The Sun.
London, England, 1864-04-07 00:00:00

THE WAIL IN DENMARK,

(From the Times Special Correspondent et the Danish.
Head-quarters.)
DANISH HEADQUARTERS, SONDERBORG,
April 1.
7-•,,Should the present war ever come to an end, and
should those regions ever be allowed to breathe from
the fearful storms that ravage them, perhaps the in-
terest awakened throughout Europe about them will
bring hither those shoals of idle wanderers who ex-
plore the most untried or forgotten corners of the
globe in quest of a sensation. Those who might
thus be tempted to come and see the theatre of war
will find here what nature intended to be the most
blessed abode of peace. The handbooks a traveller
supplies himself with on a projected tour in Den-
mark do not even mention such spots as the Isle of
Alsen, or its Sound, or Fredericia and the entrance
to the Little Belt. Yet the country has peculiar
beauties and charms of its own, and during the sum-
mer months it would be well worth not only a pass-
ing visit, but a prolonged residence. Indeed, lam
not sure any part of the Continent, or even the most
favoured rural districts in England, can combine
such a variety of pleasing homely scenery, such a
general aspect of ease and plenty, such a perfect
haven of security and contentment.
We have now got beyond the equinox, and the
sun begins to woo those northern lands with greater
assiduity than he bestows on the lower latitudes
with which possession makes him familiar, and
which he rather snubs as a husband than courts as
a lover. The days are lengthening out, advancing
towards that period of the year when the evening
and the morning make but one cycle of daylight.
"What a morning it was yesterday ! What a loveli-
ness of heaven and earth ! I walked along shore
from Sonderborg to Horup Hay, and saw before me
the Dybbol Heights topped with their far-famed
windmill, the fair bay of theWemingbund, the woody
coast of the Broager Peninsula, and further on the
mouth of Flensburg Fiord, the broad opening of the
Gelting Bucht, and the low shore of the Schleswig
mainland, far away to the narrow inlet of the
Schlei. There was a stillness in the air, a brightness
and purity in the sky, a calmness over all that broad
extent of water, which would have soothed the nerves
of a lion in the first fit of fever. The blue trans-
parency of the unrippled sea, the purple tints of the
distant woods, the silver hem of the fleecy clouds,
seemed to belong to happier Southern climates; but
for the comparative tameness of the scenery, and the
absence of rocky peaks or bluff headlands, I might
have fancied myself amid the shores of the Mediter-
ranean, coasting the Straits of Banifacio, or thread-
ing the channel of Piombino.
Opposite, at a little more than one English mile's
distance, the white sandy cliffs of the Broagerland
glance in the sun, and lining all those clan by
scores are the Prussian 24-pounders, at whose mercy
lie Sonderborg and its Ladegaard, and the whole
shore till very nearly the mouth of Horup Hay. Very
keen eyes can easily descry the mouths of those for-
midable engines, and the artillerymen lazily loung-
ing about them. Behind the breastwork of the Castle
or Windmill Battery on this side a Danish officer
stands, tablet in hand, taking down every shot and
shell hurled against the devoted Bastions 2 and 6,
on the Dybbol line. For a long spell in the night,
and since the breaking of morning, those batteries
have been at rest, as if humanised by the unspeak-
able repose of all created things. But presently the
ominous puff of smoke arises from the embrasure.
You count 16 seconds, and the deep booming re-
port awakens all the echoes of the abrupt Wemming-
bund shore; yet a few more seconds, and another
muffled report tolls of the bursting shell, of the
scattered dust of the earthworks; possibly, of a
crushed Dune, too unwary to be on the look out for
the death messenger, or too slow in seeking the
shelter under which his comrades are crouching.
Such is the morning sports of the Prussians.
Such, with little or no variety, are their manoeuvres
for the best part of the day. The real harm done is
but trifling—the noise either supremely beautiful
or hideously appalling, according to the peculiar
constitution and fancy of him who hears it.
On my left as I proceed on my path, still within
easy reach of the Prussian 21-pounders, agricniture
plies her industry with the happiest disregard of
danger. Farmer Petersen, the father of 12 daughters,
mentioned in a former letter, drives his team afield
with perfect trust, though he is aware that the
thatched roof of the Ladegaard is by no means bomb
proof, and that a single stray shot can at any mo-
ment set his straw lofts in a blaze. The 12 damsels
and the remaiuing female portion of the household
have quitted the premises; but the head of the family
abides, and the work of the farm goes on, notwith-
standing the encumbrance of men and officers,
troopers and chargers, cannon and ammunition
waggons, encumbering, trampling, upsetting every-
thing. The farm lands must be til ed, though the
farm-yard is a camp ; the corn must grow and ripen,
though it may be a matter of doubt whether Danish
or German scythes are to reap it, whether native or
foreign bakers will tarn its fruit into the staff of
life.

APRIL 1, P.M.

We have had a restless night. The Prussians have
been digging and erecting parallels very dangerously
close to the Dybbol bastions; and the Danes, aware
of their intentions, opened fire upon them soon
after midnight, and are at it even now. Should the
Prussians carry their purpose into effect, and fire at
the bastions from their new batteries in front, their
projectiles could hardly fail to reach the town, and
our position would become untenable. The very
headquarters would have to be removed to Ulkebol
or Angustenburg.

THE BOMBARDMENT OF DUPPEL.
GRAVEN STEIN, April 3.
The following account of the first day's bombard
meet of the Danish position at Duppel is derived
from a Prussian source ;
The bombardment of the forth began punctually at 2.30
yesterday afternoon from the eight batteries before Duppel
and from Gammelsmark. The morning was clear and fine.
Officers came in at 9 o'clock from all the brigades and regi-
ments to receive the orders for the day. Artillery trains
passed the cattle along the Sonderborg road. It soon be-
came known that the enemy, who had endeavoured to in-
terrupt the trench work and batteries recently constructed
by constant fire during the night, had requested a truce.
It was granted until half-past 1, the bombardment being
ordered to commence an hour later.
At 2 o'clock Prince Frederick Charles, with the general
staff, rode at a sharp trot to the Felhernberg, the elevation
between Vemming and Broacker, on the bank of the Vem-
mingbund, whence the entire line of the forts and of our
batteries can be overlooked ; thence the party went through
Freudenthal to the trenches. From a distance one could
see the puffs of smoke, followed by the flashes of the guns,
but without hearing the report, carried by the wind towards
the sea. Soon, however, this changed, and the roll of the
artillery became audible in the pauses of the military music,
to which a wounded man who had died in hospital was
being buried in Broacher churchyard. The bright sun
shone over the scene; the birds sang high in air above the
fields; in front spread the broad Vemraingbund, with its
waves of a clear blue. On the right were the steep heights
of the Gammelemark, whence the Feldzeugmeister battery
and its comrades sent shot after shot thundering into Forts
No- 1 and 2, occasionally reaching even No. 4. The white
smoke rolled slowly over the blue water, and we could see
the heavy balls strike into the forts, No. 1 of which was
remarkable for returning hardly any fire, where every now
and then a tongue of flame shot out of No. 2. A. dash of
spray and a cloud of smoke upon the water showed where
a ball fell short. On the left the thunder of the guns
rolled merrily along the whole line of the forts upon the
northern bank, occupying the heights around the wind-
mill. From the ground in front of the forts where the
trenches have been dug came a puff of smoke above the
spurt of flame from eight places at least every three or four
minutes. These were the Prussian trench batteries, whence
shot after shot thundered into the earthworks.
After a time the Danes began to bestir themselves more
actively,
and pay less attention to repairing damages. Eco -
noutY
of ammunition did not appear to have produced much
advantage. The smoke clouds rose slowly into the air, and
we could see the shells burst immediately above the forts.
With a good glass we could clearly discover the rows of
palisades in front of No. 1,
and it was even possible to dis-
tinguish the D inish soldiers running to and fro. Hero the
eye turned involuntarily towards the V
• erurningbund to
search if the Rolf Krake was anywhere to be seen. Yes,
there she was cruising before the entrance to the creek, her
low, black hull hardly visible above the surface of the
Water. A few white sails circled round her like gulls, but
maintained a respectful distance.
The 40 guns in cur batteries noW sent shot after shot,
and the forts replied, though not so rapidly. Ths batteries
fired none but hollow balls, and these with so much preci.
Sinn that many were seen to strike in exactly the same
spot. The rush of the heavy balls through the air, the