THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC.

Otago Witness, Issue 2456, 10 April 1901, Page 22

THE BATTLE OF THE BALTIC.

(Daily Times, April 2.) To-day, amidst circumstances that emphasise alike the pathos and the irony of history, we celebrate the 100 th anniversary of the Batye of the Baltic. A century ago to-day, on the second of April, 1801, Briton and Dane fought outside the City of Copenhagen with such awful ferocity and such equal valour that, whilst the fortunes of war

left. the victory with the British, posterity has never been able to award to either belligerent an honour which it was csibpelled to deny to the otner. The dawn of the nineteenth century found the people of Britain alert and suspicious. The brilliant intellect of Napoleon was doing its very best — or worst — to multiply the power of the allied forces with which he hoped shortly to crush the envied supremacy of Britain. Russia, ruled by a Czar whose mental powers were clouded and deranged, and Denmark, groaning under all the disadvantages incident to an impotent Government, were easily ensnared, together with Prussia and Sweden, into Napoleon's subtle and fatal "league of armed neutrality." In these menacing circumstances a bold stroke was imperative, and, happily indeed for Britain, she had the means and the man to make it. Horatio Nelson, literally the " hero of a hundred fights," was given the practical — although Sir Hyde Parker held the nominal — command over a fleet of 18 battleships. To the surprise of nobody, one of the most terrible, as well as one of the most dramatic, of Britain's naval experiences was soon in progress. Thomas Campbell was never so successful in any of his national battle songs as in his famous and throbbing lines descriptive of this engagement : Of Nelson and the North Sing" the glorious day's renown, Whrti t» battle- fierce carae forth -JT AH the might of Denmark's crown, And her arms along the deep proudly shone? By each gun the lighted brand In a boldj determined hand, And the prince of all the land Led them on! A fight so short, so deadly, and so terrible has rarely been recorded. There were " crowded moments '' during which the ships that participated could only be described as veritable shambles. Fire and blood dyed everything a ghastly and glaring crimson. The doggedness of British pluck was face to face with the obstinacy of Danish determination ; and it was doubtful, almost up to the last moment, as to which of the two could fcold out the longest. Indeed, the British commander, Sir Hyde Parker, who, in his flagship, lay four miles out to sea, actually signalled to Nelson to " discontinue the engagement." And, had it not been for the quick wit of " that greatest sailor since the world began," the Battle of the Baltic might have had a very different termination. As every schoolboy knows, Nelson put the telescope to his blind eye, and swore that he could not see the signal ! The fight proceeded until, during the afternoon, the Crown Prince of Denmark was compelled to sue for an armistice. Two days later, on April the 4th, Nelson was able to land and arrange terms of peace. On that very day, by a striking coincidence, the news reached Copenhagen of the assassination of the Czar of Russia, and thus the famous " league of armed neutrality," which Napoleon had been many months in building up, crumbled suddenly to pieces in the course of a few hours. A hundred years ago to-day the naval power of Napoleon lay hopelessly shattered, — a melancholy monument to the splendour of his genius and a terrible prophecy of the world that " might have been."

On February 26, 1863, that self-same City of Copenhagen was en fete at the departure of the Princess Alexandra of Denmark to become the bride of the Heir Apparent to the British Throne. Then, too, it was that the great Poet Laureate of England revelled in claiming for the people of Britain the name of the most stubborn foe with whom they had ever crossed a sword. Sea-kings' daughter from over the sea, Alexandra! Saxon and Norman and Dane are we, But all of us Danes in our welcome of thee,

Alexandra ' Welcome her, thunders of fort and of fleet' Welcome her, thundering cheer of the street' Welcome her, all things useful and sweet! Scatter the blossoms und,er her feet! 0 joy to the people and joy to the throne, Come to us, love us, an-d make us youi own: For Saxon or Dane or Norman we, Teuton or Celt, or whatever we be, We are each all Dane in our welcome of thee, Alexandra ! And now it comes to pass that the daughter of that nation with whom a hundred years ago we struggled in the fierce embrace of battle is seated upon our ancient throne, and is firmly established in the love and reverence of the whole wide Empire! And* afe this ver^

hour, the people of Denmark are preparing a magnificent address of congratulation to be presented to King Edward the Seventh and his Danish Queen on their accession to their splendid heritage ! Nor must the present close and felicitous friendship between the two peoples be regarded as a reaction from, much less as a reflection upon, the fearful conflict of a century ago. It was that that led to this. That was but the rough foundation on which this delightful superstructure has been reared ; and without that, this would have been impossible. It is because we prize our present happy relations with Denmark so highly, and because we love our present Queen so well, that we turn aside to-day to do honour to the name of Horatio Nelson. A Greater Britain, which he made possible, rises to-day to pay homage to his memory. And, as its subjects cast a retrospective glance over the striking changes that are electrified into a more vivid significance by the recurrence of this anniversary, they will probably echo the fine words of " the Wizard of the North," and say : Deep graved in eveiy British heart, O never let those names depart' Say to your sons, — Lo, hers his giave, Who victor died on Gadite wave , To him, as to the burning levm, Short, bright, resistless course vva<= given. Where'er his country's foes were' found, Was heard tiie fated thunder's 'ound, Till burst the bolt on yonder shore, Roll'd, blaz'd, destroy'd — and was no more.