The Sons in Splendor Vol IV: The Eclipse of the Sons

[CrepedCrusader]

With Heaven in the Balance: Britannia 1581-1626, W O’Reilly (2003)

London was already a powder keg on the 3rd of April 1607. The years and months of attacks on Parliament and Richard II’s refusal to go to war had come to a head with the arrest of Henry Tudor and the newly announced tariffs, without any recall of Parliament. However on that day news finally reached London of the twin disasters in Eindhoven and Vendee and the tensions finally spilled over.

Much of what occurred in the subsequent week is complicated and subject to multiple accounts with varying degrees of accuracy and hysteria.

It is at least clear that the unrest in London had two centres of origin: a clearly political centre around Westminster and a more vaguely defined one around the City of London itself. The Westminster unrest began on the 4th of April when, again, a group of MPs, led by Judge and former speaker Thomas Richardson, gathered outside Westminster Hall, demanding entry. There were over 100 men in this group including John Field, Robert Naunton, William Whitmore, Robert Payne, Lionel Cranfield, William Ames, Edward Barrett and John Selden. The majority of these MPs were conspicuous in representing either London or counties in East Anglia, ergo most of them tended towards religious reform as well as being politically minded.

Richardson and his fellow MPs were unequivocal in their demands: a recall of Parliament in order to grant taxation for war. This latter point was however vague, ‘war’ could simply have meant Richard II’s planned expedition to arrest Oudenberg and his co-traitors or it could have been that the MPs also wanted a declaration of war against the Catholic powers. Given the situation by the 4th of April, the latter suggestion is far more likely.

It is hard to know the MPs’ ultimate end-goals. Words such as ‘democracy’ and ‘constitutional’ – which would have meant little to them – are often bandied about. Indeed, given the turmoil, and Richard II’s hitherto indifference to the demand of his Parliaments, a simple need to respond to the crisis in Europe was surely most pressing. Richardson and his associates may have had a score to settle for the previous years of mistreatment, but it seems their presence at Westminster on the 4th of April was to provide support for a coming war and little else.

Where the situation becomes muddied is the second centre of unrest. Concurrent with the MP’s demonstration outside Westminster Hall, there was another gathering of malcontents in the City of London. Originally spread across the old City from St Paul’s to the Tower of London, by around noon on the 4th of April these smaller bands had coalesced into a large crowd on Goodman’s Fields. It is estimated that this crowd was at least 10,000 people, mostly men. However the composition and demands of this group is much harder to come by. There were certainly a number of sailors and tradesmen who would have been affected by the simultaneous collapse in trade and increase in tariffs. A number of merchantmen, seemingly led by Hugh Audley, were also present. Audley alone is an interesting character; one of the Trustees of the Aldermen Bank but with also significant holdings in the East India, Royal Barrow and Grand Colombian Companies, he is known to some as the ‘first capitalist’ and was motivated by money and not political or religious ideals.

Whilst it is true that many members of the Goodman’s Field group were in some way related to the economy, many more were simply ordinary folk who had finally lost patience with the Emperor. The arrest of Tudor – the peoples’ hero – had been the last straw for many, but the cancellation of the York Day celebrations on the 29th of March disgruntled even more. This cancellation had been a wise decision on Richard’s part to save money and prevent large gatherings in London at a tense time, but coming on the heels of his own attempts to disestablish the celebration of the York dynasty in favour of his own victory at Hartlepool a decade before, it was interpreted as another attempt by the Stuart monarch to undermine the Yorkist legacy. To these commoners were added soldiers and unemployed mercenaries. London always attracted this sort of person, and war would have been just the thing to change their fortunes.

To the soldiers, traders and commons, we must add the question of how many Presbyterians and other opponents of the regime were present that day. We know that Frances Cromwell, son of the Earl of Essex was present in Aldgate on the 4th of April, and that Robert Devereux arrived in London on the evening of the 5th having heard of the disturbance. Furthermore William Boleyn, Earl of Wiltshire, as a trustee of the Ludgate Bank, was present in the city too. Given the high percentage of Presbyterians and Puritans in the south east of England, it would be safe to suggest that around half of the crowd were of this persuasion religiously too, though whether their concerns were primarily economic or religious is open to debate.

It is at least possible to make some safe assumptions about the 4th of April. The first is that Emperor Richard II and his inner circle were completely out of their depth. Richard II had made his position on war against France – or more accurately in support of the Netherlands – very clear: it would only occur when Melville and his fellow Presbyterians were returned to London. Furthermore Richard would not order Parliament recalled until they acquiesced to the strict terms of the Limberg Conference which allowed Richard to claim taxation without their permission. The issue of Brittany and the Vendee surely would have complicated matters, but given the Emperor’s slowness to reach a decision, he did not immediately declare war in support of his Feudal subject. The reason for this has puzzled historians, but it seems that, as with the issue of Puritanical Church reform, Richard believed that to give way in one regard to opposition would be to capitulate to all demands wholesale. He could not declare war over Vendee, without seeming to be supporting the Netherlands.

With Richard holding firm on the demands of his opponents, this gave Lennox – for surely it was he – the task of clearing the streets of London. This was not an easy task; the city watch, under the control of Mayor Sir Henry Rowe, numbered less than 500 men and at any rate were of dubious loyalty and capability. The various London regiments were much more capable, but again their commanders would have been sympathetic to many of the oppositions’ demands. To further exacerbate matters, the Master of Arms William Stewart was in Scotland at the time and so could not command the Regiments which were called up. This left Lennox with 1,500 Scots Guards from the Imperial retinue and his own 1,000 Lennoxmen bearing his red Saltire. Lennox called up a further three regiments from the home counties, but it would be a day or two at least before they arrived.

The second certainty with the 4th of April 1607 is that Lennox moved against Westminster first. With rumours and misinformation flying across the city, it is not even known if Lennox knew about the crowd gathering near the Tower, but arriving from Limberg to the south-west he surely knew of the MPs trying to gain entry to Westminster Hall. Concurrently Lennox took his own men to Westminster and there arrested the leaders of the MPs for disturbing the peace including Richardson, Ames, Selden and Field. With 11 ringleaders in total Lennox and his men marched east to convey his prisoners to the Tower. The time was roughly 3pm.

The third certainty is that around 4pm, the demonstration on Goodman’s Field turned violent. That is the only real certainty we have with this event. It seems that Mayor Rowe had sent around 100 men of the city watch, armed with older muskets, to observe the demonstration which had grown throughout the afternoon and was now probably over 20,000 people. These men, however, did nothing and indeed some of them disposed of their jackets and disappeared into the crowd carrying their weapons with them.

What happened next has sadly been lost to history. Something stirred the crowd. Whether it was an errant discharge from a musket, or news that Lennox was on the way, or that he had arrested almost a dozen MPs we shall never know. The London rumour mill was by now in over-drive and it seems possible that the crowd had gotten the impression that they were about to be dispersed by force. In either case the chant of ‘Richard or Richmond’ went up across the crowd. The implication was that the people either wanted Emperor Richard to come and meet them personally, or for Henry Tudor to be released, or both. Interpretations that this cry was intended to presage the downfall of the Emperor and his replacement with the Earl of Richmond are far-fetched and bear little resemblance to fact.

Very soon after this parties of men, some of them armed, began to depart westwards in the direction of the Ludgate through which Lennox would have to pass. Shortly, a shot rang out in Goodman’s Field. Again we shall never know the who or the why but this galvanised the remaining crowd and they rushed to arm themselves. A gunsmiths was ransacked, as too an iron-mongers, and this descended into an orgy of looting which consumed the area around Aldgate. The remaining members of the city watch were either over-run or removed their uniforms and either escaped the crowd or joined them.

By early evening on the 4th April, London was in a state of riot. The Earl of Lennox had passed through Ludgate by the time his party heard and saw signs of unrest ahead of them. Lennox had already dispatched troops to Westminster and a smaller number to the city, but he quickly sent for more. He also dispatched a number of his own soldiers into the city along the line of his march. This was to prove a fateful mistake. The rioters may have been dispersed and untrained, but they knew the alleys and narrow streets of the city of London well. The Lennoxmen, for all their fine livery and training, were little use in urban conditions against a larger and more motivated foe who knew the territory.

The column of arrested MPs had passed Cornhill, no more than a mile from the Tower of London, when they came under attack. Again we shall never know who exactly attacked Lennox’s column. Conventional wisdom would suggest that it must have been members of the Goodman’s Fields group which perpetrated the attack, but military analysis has shown that the attack was far too coordinated to have been the work of mere rabble. This has led to speculation that either professional soldiers in the crowd had taken control, or perhaps that one of Lennox’s many enemies had chosen this moment to strike. Indeed, by this point Lennox was estimated to still be in command of 200 Lennoxmen with 11 MPs in their centre. Lennox’s position may have been vulnerable but he should have been far from mortal danger.

Lennox’s column came under fire from the front, rear and northern flank with the Church of St Mary Woolnorth enclosing him on the southern side. In a brief skirmish, Lennox’s column was first surrounded and then annihilated. A small number of men made it inside St Mary’s itself with the MPs but after a matter of minutes, with the sun setting over London, the Earl of Lennox, Lord Protector of England, and the closest confidant to Emperor Richard II lay bleeding to death in the street. In the end Thomas Richardson was able to convince the mob to allow the remaining Lennoxmen to flee and he and his compatriots moved to St Paul’s to monitor the ongoing situation.

One of the many mysteries of those April Days is why Richardson went unmolested. The man was a judge, and as such would have been anathema to a people in riot. Instead, he was escorted through the streets of London surrounded by a huge crowd. He and his fellow MPs feted as heroes of the people. We do know that when the MPs reached St Paul’s they found the Dean treating the wounded but the Cathedral otherwise unmolested. Whether Richardson tried to take control of the situation and bring an end to the riots is unclear, for they continued overnight.

Dawn rose on the 5th of April over a bruised and battered city. Much of the City of London itself had been looted, and anyone in a position of authority had been beaten and murdered. Crucially this did not include Richardson or his group of MPs or the Lord Mayor of London who had unsuccessfully tried to call the crowd to order in the middle of the night, but had been allowed to retreat from them unharmed.

If the crowd could have said to have had a motive in these hours – beside looting and wanton destruction – it must surely have been ‘justice’ as they termed it. Lennox was not the only victim. Members of the Emperor’s regime were targeted wherever they could be found. Lord Maxwell had narrowly escaped to the Tower in order to evade the mob, but a number of his retinue were beaten to death. It seems that years of injustice, cronyism, economic hardship and indifference had finally boiled over into out-right violence. In the midst of the turmoil the Tower of London was under siege. Though no longer a military installation, the Tower was still a potent symbol of Imperial control in east London. The Tower guard numbered just 200 – the rest having gone into the city to restore order - but were not well equipped. The Tower did possess around half a dozen cannon, but the garrison did not have the manpower or munitions to use them effectively. The Tower of London was after all, a glorified prison with little military value – which enemies were going to strike this deep into the heart of the Imperial capital.

For his part, Richard II had been told of the death of Lennox in the early morning hours. The Emperor had been in bed, confident that Lennox would deal with the problem, but this news had shaken him from his reverie and sent him pelting down the Thames with all haste. Thankfully for his own safety, Imperial Justice Hatton had intercepted the Emperor at Westminster and had been able to convince him to go to ground inside Westminster Abbey. For his trouble, the Justice had – according to legend – been slapped in the face and then awarded the role of Lord Protector with responsibility for solving the mess in front of him.

This was not easy. With Lennox’s losses, the Emperor could hope to command the loyalty of around 2,000 men in and around London on the morning of the 5th of April. Best guess put the ‘rebels’ numbers closer to 25,000 by this point. Thankfully two of the regiments called up by Lennox had finally arrived: the Middlesex Regiment under Sir Robert Bertie and the Hertfordshire Regiment led by Sir Henry ‘Hal’ de la Pole. These were both very capable and well-equipped units each comprising of 2,000 men accompanied by a dozen light cannon. Hatton ordered the Middlesex men to push on Newgate whilst the men from Hertfordshire moved east and attempted to relieve the pressure on the Tower of London.

Meanwhile, the areas under ‘rebel’ control had descended into a weird sense of order. Thomas Richardson and his companions had left St Paul’s and were moving east bringing fires under control and collecting the wounded to be sent back to receive medical attention. Their requests and orders were respectfully listened to by all but a small number of the rioters, and it seems that London had been restored to peace, even if it were not the Emperor’s peace. The one exception was the Tower of London where opposition forces had been trying to breach the walls all night. A brave charge with gunpowder in the early morning had damaged the Devellin gate on the eastern end of the Tower’s curtain wall, but the rioters had been unable to breach it completely. The chants of ‘Richard or Richmond’ continued throughout the night as the crowd made their demands constantly clear. All of this changed when Hal de la Pole arrived.

Henry de la Pole was the son of Edward, Earl of St Albans. His grandfather on his mother’s side was the Earl of Essex. Imperial Justice Hatton could not have known this, or he would not have ordered the Herts Regiment to carry out such a delicate task. Hal’s grandfather on his father's side had been good friends with Magnus the Red, and his family bore little love for Emperor Richard. Yet the young leader had won his position through his own skill and determination – finishing top in his year at Limberg College, Cambridge (the dedicated military college) – and having been appointed to the Herts Regiment as its commander only the previous autumn.

Hal’s orders that day have been lost to History. According to the man himself in the years which followed, Hatton had ordered him to lift the siege on the Tower of London and garrison it himself. Most controversially, Hal claimed that he had been ordered to pre-emptively execute Henry Tudor himself. Whether this latter claim is true, or a mere cover for Hal’s actions that day is another of the great mysteries of the April Days. What did happen, as much as we can work out, is this: the Hertsmen marched east around the city and entered through Aldgate trampling over the remains on Goodman’s field. The 2,000 man regiment and their guns went unmolested by the mob, either through fear, respect, or a pre-arranged plan. When the regiment reached the Devellin gate with their commander at the head they were admitted without a moment’s delay. Then shooting broke out. Eyewitness accounts report that the Hertsmen butchered any of the garrison who refused to surrender and emerged minutes later with Henry Tudor raised above them and freed from his confinement.

The response of the assembled mob, exhausted and injured from their nocturnal attempts to free their hero, was nothing short of rapturous. Only a few snuck into the Tower to loot the remains, despite the Hertsmen now garrisoned there. The crowd dragged out Lord Maxwell and brought him along behind Tudor. Accompanied by Sir Henry de la Pole, Henry Tudor rode westwards through the damaged city to St Paul’s where he was reunited with Richardson and the other fugitive MPs. Fighting was still going on around Newgate, but much of the city turned out to see the Earl of Richmond deliver what has become known as the St Paul’s Address.

Seeming overwhelmed and weakened from his time in captivity, Henry Tudor hesitantly thanked his liberators and declared his innocence of all charges against him. Tudor, however, declared himself guilty on the charge of seeking to uphold his oath of office. He said he was guilty of seeking to protect the Britannic Empire and its subjects. He was guilty of seeking to uphold the cause of law and order. And most of all, he was guilty of seeking to defend Britain and Europe from the evil designs of the Pope and his subjects. He could not have said anything better. The crowd, already willing to die for him, were now willing to kill for him. A number of men pulled weapons and moved towards the Lord Maxwell to kill him, only Tudor’s intervention saved the man’s life.

It was at this moment, late afternoon on the 5th of April that the Earl of Thetford arrived in London. He only had his personal guard of 50 men, but was taken immediately to St Paul’s where he greeted the liberated Tudor. The two men, plus Richardson, conferred privately on their next move. Tudor is said to have lamented the death of Lennox, partly out of respect for the man, but also out of a realisation that it would now make parlay with the Emperor impossible. The reality now was that the ‘rebels’, for that is surely what they were, stood little chance of holding London indefinitely. The weak barricades around Newgate were already starting to buckle. Hal de la Pole left with his regiment to hold the line, but a few of his men deserted rather than fire on other Englishmen.

Getting desperate, and with light fading, Tudor made a momentous decision. His freedom and the events of the riot had drawn a line in the sand. Richard II had to be brought to the bargaining table, or removed from power entirely. The time-worn Earl did not even attempt to parlay this time, however, he correctly knew that Lennox’s death would have sent Richard over the edge. With more forces arriving from the west, Tudor, Devereux and Richardson decided to quit the city and seek refuge in East Anglia until further military or diplomatic moves could be made. Before they departed, they sent Lord Maxwell safely back to Westminster with the Dean of St Pauls to safe-guard his passage.

The April Days were in reality just two days at the start of April 1607. In these two days over 2,000 soldiers loyal to the Emperor were killed and countless citizens of London also died. In these two days the Earl of Lennox was killed and the Earl of Richmond, alongside another 11 MPs were freed from captivity. In these two days these men went from popular heroes (on the part of Tudor) and relative unknowns to leaders of a popular insurrection against Emperor Richard II.

For most of the leaders, they went unwillingly into rebellion, having exhausted all alternative options. None appeared more reticent than Tudor, but months of imprisonment and then armed insurrection on the streets of London had clearly shown him that any further words were useless. The role of the Triumvirate is much debated. Wiltshire and Thetford were present during the April Days, though whether they instigated or supported the rising is unknown.

The objectives of the rebels at this time were as clear as the events of the April Days themselves. Their dislike of the Emperor was clear to see, but what would they replace him with? Indeed, could they or should remove him at all? Secondly a desire for some kind of freedom for Presbyterians and Puritans was baked into the riots from the beginning, they were after all centred in the heartland of Reformism in the Empire. Thirdly a need for war against the Catholics was evident, though how realistic this would be for the rebels is another question. It seems likely that even by distracting the Emperor, Tudor and his supporters could allow Magnus and Oudenberg to wage war in Europe. Finally, was the need for Parliamentary representation of some kind. Certainly not the constitutional monarchy we enjoy today, but clearly something which prevented the Emperor from ruling through sheer tyranny was needed.

The first week or so after the April Days saw Tudor and the others go to ground in East Anglia while messages swept across the country assessing levels of support. For his part Richard II swept into the City of London and hung over 100 men from the battlements of the Tower of London for their part in the rebellion. The aftermath kept Lord Protector Hatton busy for days, trying and executing rebels. Richard’s wrath was certainly up and he attainted over 300 people for treason in the next week alone. Top of the list were Richmond, Thetford, Essex, St Albans (for his son’s misdemeanours), all 11 of the arrested MPs, another 50 or more MPs and then other assorted gentry, nobility and merchants whom Richard held responsible for the rising.

Most tragic was the fate of Phillip de la Pole, Earl of Lincoln. Cousin of the Earl of St Albans and Uncle-in-Law to the Earl of Oudenberg, Phillip was nonetheless – as much as we can tell – entirely innocent of any involvement of the April Days and indeed had entered retirement on his manors in Berkshire. Nonetheless he was summoned to Westminster on the 6th of April, tried for treason and executed on the same day. His son John III de la Pole was barred from inheriting his father’s land and immediately went east into hiding and to find the Earl of Richmond. For those who still doubted Tudor’s actions on the 5th of April, the death of the Earl of Lincoln just a day later expelled those remaining reservations. For all intents and purposes Britannia was at war.

 

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Of Madness and Piety: Europe 1597-1627, A Thompson (2009)

After his victory at Eindhoven, Tilly pulled back to Turnhout leaving a sizable garrison in the captured city. The commander then sent a diplomatic mission to the Protestant camp at Hergotenbosch to sue for peace. Tilly had clearly targeted Brabant, his homeland, and had only branched out to Brittany and Bohemia at the request of Cardinal Borghese and the other Catholic Monarchs. Tilly’s initial entreaties suggested a cessation of hostilities and a vague surrender of all Catholic areas to ‘faithful Princes’ meaning those of the same religion.

King Edvard rejected these terms out of hand, wasting only a few days of the campaign season in deliberation. Tilly had perhaps been optimistic in requesting peace, but he was not naïve. By the second week of April his army had split into two detachments and were besieging Breda and Tilburg led by de Bonne and himself respectively. Grouped close together, these two armies could support each other. Meanwhile Tilly had sent Mansfeld south-east to Liege and Luxembourg to strengthen defences and patrol the border with Hesse and the Palatinate. Tilly was still at Tillburg on the 6th of April when news of the Dutch rejection of peace and the April Days arrived on the same day. To Tilly this was both a challenge and an opportunity; he knew that with Britannia in turmoil, Edvard could not maintain war indefinitely. He also knew that to attack Bruges or Calais would run the unlikely risk of war with Richard II but more likely it would pressurise Oudenberg into peace talks. Nonetheless, Tilly could still not be seen to be waging war on the Britannic Empire and so he used his secret weapon.

For the last decade Thomas Stanley, Earl of Derby had lived outside Paris on estates provided by Henri IV where he formed the nucleus of a small Britannic Catholic group of exiles. Edmund Whitelocke, Francis Hay, George Calvert, and Richard Beaumont were other key leaders and together they commanded around 500 Catholics exiled from England. In Spring 1607 these 500 men – equipped with rough and outdated weaponry were sent over the border west of Saint-Quentin where they began to burn and pillage as they moved north. The Maid’s men – as Stanley’s new nickname led them to be called – would wreak havoc across Normandy-Picardy all summer. As English speakers, they could move with relative impunity across the countryside, and their movements were concealed by the legitimate bands of soldiers moving around also. Furthermore, the houses of Oudenberg and Hartson were unable to identify just who was plaguing them. It could have been partisans loyal to the Emperor, regular bandits, or French raiding parties, the Maid’s men were just too hard to pin down.

Whilst Tilly played shadow games, William of Oudenberg hatched his next plan. Eindhoven had been the Englishman’s first encounter with Tilly and it had taught him caution. Oudenberg had also realised to only fight on a field of his choosing. Thus in May Oudenberg took 10,000 men east and then south from Hergotenbosch. These men were almost entirely Britannic in origin with Georg of Boleyn, Giovanni II Hartson and Magnus the Red as fellow commanders. They were also the most professional soldiers which the Protestant army had to spare, Oudenberg having left the remaining conscripts with King Edvard and William of Guelders with orders to remain in Hergotenbosch and hold the river crossings to the north.

Skirting around the now-occupied Eindhoven to the Meuse and then following it south, Oudenberg aimed for Liege. The English column did not have the weapons to besiege the city, but from there they could easily cut off the French supply routes and starve Tilly out. Oudenberg reached Maastricht on the 19th of May when Tilly finally discovered that his rear was in danger. He immediately broke of the siege of Tillburg and instructed de Bonne to place Hergotenbosch under siege in order to hold the 12,000 Dutch army in the city. Meanwhile, Tilly took his 18,000 men south at speed to destroy Oudenberg.

William of Oudenberg had learned from Eindhoven. Giovanni II now controlled a wide cavalry screen running from Maastricht to Antwerp and so was well warned of the Catholic advance. The Duke of Oudenberg prepared his positions north-west of Hasselt at a ridgeline called the Zolder. The ridgeline faced to the north west with low-lying wetlands at either end which would funnel the French up the shallow slope and into the English lines. This was one of five battlefields which William had pre-selected in conferences with Edvard and his nobles.

The Battle of Zolder began on the 22nd of May 1607, almost 2 months after Eindhoven. Both Tilly and Oudenberg believed that they could trap and destroy their opponents and arranged their forces accordingly. William of Oudenberg had 18 guns, 7,000 infantry including 4,000 from the Orange Free Company, and 3,000 cavalry which was mostly light horse armed with Schragbus. Tilly had only brought 6 light guns with him for the chase but had 5,000 cavalry and 13,000 infantry of which 3,000 were Grenadiers commanded by de Barre. Given the disparity in forces and artillery, Tilly knew that he had to break the English line quickly and bloodily. He therefore gave de Barre 9,000 men in the centre and kept 4,000 as a reserve. On each flank Tilly placed half of his cavalry under the overall command of Henri Duc de Joyeuse. With his regular cavalry commanders off commanding other detachments, Tilly had to make do with Joyeuse, an ageing and inexperienced commander.

The battle began as Tilly had planned it: de Barre, his 3,000 grenadiers anchoring the left of the infantry line, moved up the slope at a quick pace with the regular infantry folding around behind the grenadiers into a column targeting the right flank of Oudenberg’s line. Magnus the Red had placed his banner at this end of the line with Georg Boleyn at the other and Oudenberg commanding a small reserve in the rear. Giovanni’s cavalry was kept on the reverse slope behind the English lines to make use of any breakthroughs. Duke William had spotted the Grenadiers on the French left and immediately targeted them with the majority of his cannons as soon as they came within range. This encouraged de Barre to order the charge and the whole of the Grenadiers launched up the slope with their lighter comrades following them.

A wave of shot and smoke poured down the Zolder onto the advancing column as Oudenberg’s choice of battlefield paid off. The Grenadiers may have been a ferocious force, but even they could not march into a wall of gunfire. The column first slowed and then stopped as Frenchmen fell over their dead and dying comrades. This was Giovanni’s moment. At a prearranged signal, Magnus created a space in his ranks, and the young buck charged through with 2,000 Schragbus aimed at the remains of the column. The French infantry, their shots already expended in the charge, were helpless as these vicious weapons tore into them at close range. The Duc de Joyeuse took his own cavalry in and drove off Giovanni, but by now a huge gap had been created in the French lines.

Tilly withdrew and reformed his men, who still enjoyed numerical superiority. Without De Barre, who was receiving treatment for a wound in the rear, Tilly took command and led a general assault. Despite their success, the Englishmen on the right were exhausted after repelling the entire French column. Thus when Tilly’s new attack landed, Magnus himself had to steady his line. The man may have been close to 70, but he was at home on the battlefield, and it was here that he held the line amidst fierce gunfire and another cavalry charge. This second attack by Tilly almost broke the English right wing, but it held, and the Duc de Joyeuse got himself killed, sending his cavalry into disarray. Leaderless, they were easy pickings for Giovanni’s next charge through the English lines.

With his losses mounting, and night closing in, Tilly decided to withdraw. The French commander was content to call it a draw. In reality he had lost almost all of his remaining Grenadiers, half his cavalry and more infantry to leave him with 11,000 men from his original 18,000. However, Oudenberg had less than 8,000 though he had claimed the field. On the morning of the 23rd he pulled his army east to Maastricht, crossed the Meuse and returned to Nijmegen at the end of the month. The Battle of Zolder may have been a minor affair in the grand scheme, but it gave a vital lift to Protestant fortunes when they needed it most.

Tilly and de Bonne were forced to reunite their armies and withdraw to the relative safety of Antwerp. They still had 30,000 men, though having begun the campaign with close to 50,000 these were not inconsiderable losses. Tilly chose to consolidate and reinforce the front in Brittany whilst also sending reinforcements to Lorraine. Save for Eindhoven, the Netherlands had actually lost little territory in 1607, but they likewise had to take a pause for breath. A Dutch fleet attacked La Rochelle in July and burnt the port there, but aside from that the Low Countries fell into an uneasy calm in the summer of 1607. Following the reports of banditry around Calais and Amiens, around 3,000 Englishmen and Magnus made the short journey by sea to reinforce the local garrisons.

Further west, Lerma and Bucquoy were laying siege to Nantes. The former had crossed the Loire at Angers and moved to surround the city from the north. Bucquoy kept a small force south of the Loire to prevent a break-out, but given Henri D’Gaspard’s preparations on the Ile D’Nantes, the only hope of taking the city lay to the north. To this angle the Franco-Spanish army brought 35,000 men against a city garrison of around 12,000. Edward Al Mann had disappeared into the northern Bocage with 2,000 cavalry and kept raiding French supply lines back towards Angers, but this was little more than a nuisance.

Throughout April and May, the Catholic armies built siege works whilst demanding that the city surrender. A battery at Saint-Herblain kept the Loire closed to sea-ward vessels meaning that the city was cut off from the outside walls. Henri D’Gaspard, however, refused to surrender. On the 2nd and 7th of June, attacks against the northern and western gates were repulsed whilst gunfire from the castle kept the east clear of attack. Throughout July the siege wore on with the health of the citizens of the city suffering in the intense summer heat and with little food or water.

Finally, on the 29th of July, relief arrived. Edward Al Mann was spotted marching from Rennes at the head of almost 15,000 men. Lerma and Bucquoy were taken completely off-guard; Brittany surely had no more than 3,000 men left in the field? Indeed they did, but Normandy had provided around 12,000 men. The April Days and Richard II’s blanket attainter of many lords had also caught the 59 year old Duke of Normandy, Arthur Hartson. With his ports protected, the Warden of France felt confident enough to call up his regiments and march south. As well his Nephew, Sir Matthew Hartson and Edward Al Mann, Normandy was also accompanied by Duke Henry of Brittany and Jacques de Caumont, a French Huguenot who had settled in Normandy and sold his services to the Duchy.

As miraculous and welcome as this relief force was, they were still outnumbered almost 2:1. The issue for Bucquoy and Lerma was what to do next: they could not lift the siege for fear of being attacked from behind, but nor could they remain beneath the walls of Nantes when the Dukes arrived. Lerma favoured the cautious approach of retreat and hoping to entice the enemy to destroy themselves against the Catholic lines whilst Bucquoy typically favoured a cavalry-based approach to slow and destroy the northern relief army. Since Ancenis fractures had appeared between the two commanders. Bucquoy felt that his Spanish counter-part, who was in nominal command, had been too slow and cautious in pursuing Edward Al Mann and that the heir to Brittany could now have been in their custody.

Instead, on the night of the 1st of August, Bucquoy left the siege-camp with 2,500 cavalry and went north hoping to intercept the Norman-Breton army near Chateaubriant. This enraged Lerma, who felt that he had no choice but to lift the siege and march east. Having been couped up for months, the citizens of Nantes rejoiced this sight and demanded that D’Gaspard give chase. The veteran, however, refused and chose to reinforce the defences and gather much needed supplies.

Though perhaps a wise move to stay put, D’Gaspard could not have known how exposed his liege was. By the 3rd of August, the advance party of Duke Henry’s army had met Bucquoy’s cavalry who staged hit and run attacks on the Breton-Norman column. Having taken a few losses, the allied army slowed to a crawl in the tight, hot, lanes of Brittany. Sensing a chance to cut the head off his enemies, but lacking the strength for the killing blow. Bucquoy left his force under Jean de Pas and he galloped south to gather reinforcements from Nantes. Bucquoy was enraged to find that Lerma had already left the city, but nonetheless caught up with the main column after two days in the saddle on the 5th of August.

An incredibly tense council of war continued, full of recriminations and blame. Lerma accused Bucquoy of treason whilst he accused the Spaniard of cowardice. In the end it was a pair of Bishops who took the initiative. Charles Miron, Bishop of Angers and the new Bishop of Lucon – Armand Du Plessis – used their powers as Papal Representatives to levy forces for the defence of the former’s diocese. This was technically invalid and completely exaggerated the two Bishops’ authorities but it worked. Lerma continued to retreat to Angers in disgust, but gave Bucquoy 20,000 men, mostly French conscripts, with which to destroy the Norman-Breton force.

This incredible delay meant that it was the 8th of August before an exhausted but positive Bucquoy reached Erdre to find that Edward Al Mann had fortified the crossing over the river at Nort-Sur-Erdre. Furious that his chance had gone, Bucquoy nonetheless made a half-hearted effort to force the stream. Unfortunately, Al Mann had brought the Rouen Regiment with him. Though inexperienced, these 2,000 men and their dozen newly cast guns turned the gentle banks of the river into a muddy and bloody quagmire. Leaving 1,000 bodies behind him, Bucquoy retreated east.

Like Zolder, the Battle of Erdre was by no means a decisive victory. Following a spring of disastrous reverses, it was a minor strategic victory which checked the Catholic advances. As in the east, the Breton front of the war settled down for the rest of the Summer, though Vendee remained resolutely lost to the Duchy. Bucquoy gave the young Bishop of Lucon the job of consolidating the region whilst he flounced off to Paris in a rage to complain at Lerma’s conduct.

Here Bucquoy met Tilly, who recalled all of his senior commanders in late October to discuss the course of the war and to reissue his demands for peace. The Maids men continued low level disruption in Normandy-Picardy though they were finding it much harder to move. Tilly’s peace terms were for France to re-absorb the Vendee and Brabant but otherwise cease all hostilities. This would have been a great deal for France, and even Brittany would not lament the loss of Vendee, but Edvard again refused, undoubtedly influenced by William of Oudenberg. With the war destined to stretch into a third year, Tilly was forced to convene another conference with his commanders and Papal representatives.

Despite the earlier losses, 1607 had not been a complete loss for the Protestant forces, Catholic expansion had been checked, and Edward Al Mann had emerged as a very capable commander. Furthermore the situation in the east was stabilising in a fortuitous manner.

 

[Meneldur]

Getting desperate, and with light fading, Tudor made a momentous decision. His freedom and the events of the riot had drawn a line in the sand. Richard II had to be brought to the bargaining table, or removed from power entirely. The time-worn Earl did not even attempt to parlay this time, however, he correctly knew that Lennox’s death would have sent Richard over the edge. With more forces arriving from the west, Tudor, Devereux and Richardson decided to quit the city and seek refuge in East Anglia until further military or diplomatic moves could be made. Before they departed, they sent Lord Maxwell safely back to Westminster with the Dean of St Pauls to safe-guard his passage.

Huh. Not much to say about the April days, except for this - why did they not try and get Richard? It sounds like he didn't have much of a force protecting him in Westminster, and that there wasn't any real danger of immediate attack. Capturing Richard would have left their enemies leaderless and given them an ability to actually win without too much fighting.

Thus when Tilly’s new attack landed, Magnus himself had to steady his line. The man may have been close to 70, but he was at home on the battlefield, and it was here that he held the line amidst fierce gunfire and another cavalry charge.

Loved the Battle of Zolder, and loved the image on a 70 year old Magnus still fighting his hardest physically on the battlefield. His last battle in England may have been a loss, but he seems determined to avenge himself in Europe.

A Dutch fleet attacked La Rochelle in July and burnt the port there, but aside from that the Low Countries fell into an uneasy calm in the summer of 1607

Nice stuff, preventing further French forces coming from the sea (probably), though maybe burning Antwerp's port should have also been done? On the other hand, getting a force to Antwerp will probably require marching over France anyway, now that La Rochelle was burned.

Here Bucquoy met Tilly, who recalled all of his senior commanders in late October to discuss the course of the war and to reissue his demands for peace. The Maids men continued low level disruption in Normandy-Picardy though they were finding it much harder to move. Tilly’s peace terms were for France to re-absorb the Vendee and Brabant but otherwise cease all hostilities. This would have been a great deal for France, and even Brittany would not lament the loss of Vendee, but Edvard again refused, undoubtedly influenced by William of Oudenberg. With the war destined to stretch into a third year, Tilly was forced to convene another conference with his commanders and Papal representatives.

Another great campaign, and of course it founders because the French and Spanish can't work together. To be fair, of course Bucquoy wants to attack and win more land for France, and of course Parma wants to preserve his army so he can take it to fight where he actually cares about, the Spanish (or Habsburg) possessions beyond France. Interesting that Brittany (who is willing to give up the Vendee) didn't agree to a separate peace. I'm also not sure what Edvard is fishing for - does he really think he can retake Brabant and Liege when they've obviously easily fallen because they had large Catholic populations? Or is he playing for time until the Protestants in the east win and can reinforce him, or England comes to its senses?

Furthermore the situation in the east was stabilising in a fortuitous manner.

Ooooh, sounds like great news for my new favorite descendant of York, can't wait to see it!

 

[CrepedCrusader]

Generals and Kings Channel ‘The Battles of Konigsberg and Žatec’

Welcome to the Generals and Kings Channel and our ongoing series on the Twenty Years War. In the early months of 1607 Albert-Henry of the House of Pembroke-Prussia was a man who had too many problems, and not enough solutions. King of Bohemia and Duke of Prussia on paper, as well as in de facto control of Saxony, Albert was torn between enforcing his various claims. 1606 had seen him confirm his place as King of Bohemia but at the expense of Prussia.

Since autumn 1606 a Polish army under the command of Stanislaw Zolkiewski and Jan Sapieha had been active in the Duchy of Prussia. This had brought a number of Catholic nobles to its side including Jurgen Von Karensbach and Friedrich Kettler, Duke of Courland. In Albert-Henry’s absence he had placed Achatius von Dohna in command. Achatius was a capable administrator, but not a fighter, and all he could do was gather Prussian forces in Konigsberg and withstand the siege. With the Baltic by now a Protestant lake, there was little to prevent resupply by sea and so the capital did not suffer starvation. Nonetheless, the Duchy returned to de facto Polish control throughout this long winter.

The ambition of Albert-Henry was matched only by his martial skill. As a descendent of the house of York, Albert-Henry retained a ferocious and forth-right attitude upon the battlefield, even if he was sometimes more reluctant to commit at the campaign level. The siege of Konigsberg gave the Duke of Prussia little choice, and in January he left Bohemia in the capable hands of Count Thurn whom he had appointed as Pan Ochrance – the Czech equivalent of Lord Protector. Duke Albert departed with 3,000 mercenaries, mostly Englishmen under Magnus the Younger, but gathered more on route. This included a further 1500 from Saxony and another 500 New Canaanite mercenaries which had landed in Brandenberg throughout the autumn in response to Albert’s requests for help to the New World.

Braving winter storms in the Baltic, Duke Albert and his cobbled together force of 5,000 men landed in Konigsberg on the 27th of January. He was greeted by Von Dohna and the commander of Konigsberg, Ulrich Von Bartenstein. The situation in Konigsberg was tense but stable. A Polish-Pomeranian army of 22,000 men were besieging the city led by Zolkiewski. King Sigismund III had been with the army for much of the autumn but was still to return from his Christmas festivities, along with Sapieha, by the end of January. Any attempt to storm the city walls had failed, and the Polish King was content to strip the Duchy whilst Konigsberg withered.

In response Albert-Henry had perhaps 9,000 men; a mix of English, Prussians, Saxons, Brandenbergers and New Canaanites, and was unlikely to be receiving new reinforcements any time soon. Duke Albert would have been forgiven for returning to Prague and relative safety, but he vowed to fight for his Duchy and he put his plan in motion. The Protestants inside Konigsberg were given a huge advantage by the geography of the city itself. In 1607 one half of the city sat on an island in the Pregel River with the other half on the northern bank surrounded by a curtain wall. In total the two halves of the city were connected with each other and the outside world by seven bridges. This meant that Zolkiewski’s besieging force had been split into two. He himself had the main siege camp to the north of the city with 12,000 men whilst Jurgen Von Karensbach commanded the southern siege works with 10,000 men.

By the first week of February, the temperature had dropped considerably and by the second week the Pregel had frozen over enough to be crossed by small groups of men. In the early hours of the 11th of February the Battle of Konigsberg began. Duke Albert’s army may have been a motley collection of men, but they had their specialities. His Englishmen were all veterans and could stand almost to the last man whilst delivering ferocious Snelbus volleys, for example. The New Canaanites were a speciality all to themselves. Raised in the New World of the New Canaan Republic, these 500 men could trace their heritage back through English, Scot, Huss, Jew, even Iroquois and Aztec for a few of them. In New Canaan a standing army was not needed as much as a band of cutthroats who could move quickly and quietly in all weathers and at all times, either by foot or horse, this made them perfect for Albert-Henry's requirements. Led by Volchek Hamzel, these 500 men lowered themselves from the city walls and crossed the frozen river south of the island and came ashore within range of Karensbach’s southern camp.

Moving quietly, they eliminated sentries and began to burn tents, which was the signal for stage two of Duke Albert’s plan. The Duke himself and Magnus the Younger led the 3,000 Scarlet Boars from the southern gate and formed up in double ranks with bayonets fixed. Even in the almost total darkness the experience and discipline of the English soldiers kept them steady. With the way all cleared by Hamzel’s men, this rank of infantry merely marched straight into the Polish camp and began firing in sections wherever stubborn resistance looked to be presenting itself. The camp was almost half destroyed before Karensbach realised the threat, and with Zolkiewski too far away to help he was forced to retreat, running straight into the third stage of the Duke’s plan. Charles of Mecklenberg, in command of 200 cavalry, had successfully led his army east onto the larger island in the river and then south crossing the river to the east of the Polish camp. Therefore, when Karensbach tried to flee, he was easily captured.

When dawn weakly arose on the morning of the 11th of February the Polish Commander Stanislaw Zolkiewski saw smoke to his south and realised that the siege had been broken. The Poles still had 12,000 men, to the 5,000 the Prussians still had in the north of the city, but Zolkiewski did not know this and he feared being totally encircled. When scouts returned to report that Karensbach’s force had been annihilated, the Polish commander only had one option: retreat. After almost 5 months the siege of Konigsberg had been lifted and Prussia had been given some much needed breathing room.

Albert-Henry may have expected a retaliation from King Sigismund, but the Polish ruler was preoccupied with plans to the south. As Marshal of Europe, Count Tilly was technically in control of the entire Catholic war effort, though in reality his influence could barely extend beyond Brabant where he himself was. Nonetheless, Cardinal Borghese had encouraged the Marshal to do more for the wider cause, especially in the east, and so in late March 1607 an Allied army arrived in Salzburg under the command of Paul-Bernard De Fontaines. Fontaines was a life-long friend of Count Tilly and knew the man’s military philosophy, but most importantly for the Marshal of Europe, he knew that he could count on Fontaines to lead the army competently. Fontaines had around 4,000 French infantry and 2,000 cavalry but he had been joined by Charles-Emmanuel I of Savoy who brought another 6,000 infantry and 4,000 cavalry and an Italian contingent under Romboldo Count of Collalto with 12,000 infantry and 2,000 cavalry.

This force of 34,000 men was Tilly’s concession to the wider Catholic community of Europe and intended to supplement Archduke Maximillian’s forces which numbered around 18,000. With the Bocskai Rising entering another year and the mountains still firmly in their grasp, Maximillian wanted to use this army to first smash the Kingdom of Bohemia and then turn it to the east. For Sigismund of Poland, though, Fontaine’s army also represented the solution to his Prussian problem, he did not want it chasing around the Transylvanian mountains. In the hopes of showing cooperation and willingness and winning use of the army next, Sigismund therefore ignored the reversal at Konigsberg and had Jan Sapieha and Jan Chodkiewicz prepare an army of 19,000 men to invade Bohemia from the north. On the 4th of April therefore, the Catholics were poised to invade Bohemia from two directions simultaneously with over 50,000 men.

On the Bohemian side, they could not hope to repel such a force. A year of Albert’s rule had brought some degree of loyalty and sense of unity to the Bohemian countryside, but there was still a lack of men willing to fight for this regime. At best estimates, on the 4th of April, Thurn could command around 24,000 men, but the vast majority of these were untrained and located around Prague. The Pembroke-Prussia connection meant that there was at least not a lack of arms nor Gold – generously loaned by London’s Saxon Bank – but Thurn struggled for experienced soldiers. The only exception to this were Valdstejna’s Hussars; 4,000 light cavalry equipped in the Czech/Hartson style of Lances, light armour and Schragbus.

The invasion began as planned on the 5th of April, St Vincent’s Day. Maximillian and de Fontaines advanced from Linz heading for Prague by the easier route through Tabor. Sigismund, Sapieha and Chodkiewicz cut through the mountains at Liberec and found themselves on the Bohemian plain by the morning of the 6th also heading for Prague.

Albrecht Valdstejna was in the north watching the Polish border for such an attack and immediately sent word to Thurn in Prague and west to Saxony, hoping to get a message to his King who was still in Prussia. The Poles, by nature of geography, were much closer to Prague, but with Valdstejna in their path, their march became a tortuous slog as hit and run attacks and ambushes from local partisans plagued Sigismund on his way south. By the 14th of April, though, it had become clear to Thurn that he was outnumbered and outgunned on two fronts. Thurn was brave, but he was not stupid. Furthermore the entire Kingdom of Bohemia had come about because of his stand at Rip Mountain and his prior decision to abandon Prague. Thus on the morning of the 15th of April he left the city marching north-west with as many men as he could muster for Lovosice once again keeping the Elbe between him and his enemies.

The month of April ground down into a time of marching and attrition as the two Catholic armies sought to trap Thurn’s army whilst he sought to evade them. Prague finally surrendered to Fontaines on the 2nd of May, but Thurn was able to escape into Saxony with around 20,000 men, Valdstejna guarding his retreat. The Bohemian people responded in one of three ways to these events. A small number, mostly the wealthy of Prague, followed Thurn into exile. The vast majority remained passive, but as much as 10% of the population took up arms in the fields and hills of the country to resist the Catholic invaders.

For the Bohemians in Saxony, they did not exactly receive a hero’s welcome. The Saxon nobility had already had New Canaanites flooding in from the north and now they had a further 20,000 mouths to feed. Furthermore, Albert-Henry had still not returned from Prussia. Brandenberg – and their overlord Franck of Hesse – were likewise unimpressed with Albert-Henry. The Canaanites had similarly upset the delicate balance in their land too and Albert-Henry’s campaigns were becoming burdensome as he kept having to march across their land. Thus when the Duke himself landed at Stralsund on the 5th of May with 5,000 infantry and 1,000 cavalry in tow, he was met by John of Saxe-Weimar who barred his path on behalf of Duke Franck. Ever the opportunist, Albert-Henry was eventually able to have Charles of Mecklenberg negotiate his safe passage, and the Duke eventually met his Hessian counterpart at Drseden in the middle of May.

With Thurn still camped to the south, Albert-Henry did not really have time to parlay with Franck of Hesse, but he needed some kind of deal to make his strategies easier to implement. The final Dresden agreement was a marriage alliance between Hesse-Brandenberg and Prussia-Saxony. The Saxon Duke John would marry Elizabeth of Hesse, Franck’s eldest daughter and her dowry would be 8,000 Brandenberg soldiers to assist Albert-Henry in the coming campaign. Furthermore, Albert’s armies would be permitted to march through Brandenberg in exchange for defending the Duchy against any kind of Polish incursion or aggression. This solved some of Franck’s needs whilst Albert-Henry was probably willing to protect Brandenberg anyway, we know he hoped to capture Pomerania and Polish Prussia from the Poles in future campaigns by this point.

Whilst Franck and Albert negotiated in Dresden, the situation in Bohemia was far from unstable. Maximillian had retaken his place as King of Bohemia, but his ‘subjects’ were still in open rebellion against him. It didn’t help that the Catholic army was incredibly disparate and hard to control. Furthermore the mostly foreign troops, and their arrogant commanders, made keeping order even more difficult. Arguably the biggest liability were the Savoyard contingent who felt aggrieved at having been ‘relegated’ to this ‘back-ward’ part of the world and whose Duke, Charles-Emmanuel haughtily refused to heed the majority of orders given to him. A massacre of Protestants in Tabor on the 9th of May by Savoyard cavalrymen only angered the populace more and Maximillian and Fontaines were forced to bring them to Prague to keep a close eye on them.

By the 17th of May, the Catholics knew of the Dresden negotiations, and the army massing in Saxony. Fontaine thus gathered his forces west of Melnik ready to repel them. The Catholic army which would fight the Battle of Žatec was as eclectic as the army which had fought the campaign: French, Savoyard, Ferrarese, Venetian, Tuscan, Milanese, Austrian, Bavarian and even some Bohemian all made up the army. Fontaine had 9,000 Cavalry, 34,000 infantry and 22 guns.

Opposed against him was an equally international force led by Duke Albert-Henry, in Bohemia known as King Albert I. Albert had 27,000 infantry, 7,000 cavalry and more than double the number of Catholic guns with 48. The Protestant army was almost two thirds Bohemian, and relatively inexperienced but was bolstered by 3,000 Englishmen, 8,000 German and almost 1,000 Canaanite who had been folded into Volchek Hamzel’s command.

The Protestants finally invaded Bohemia on the 29th of May 1607, crossing the border where Thurn had earlier in the spring and moved south-west to avoid the rougher terrain, entering the central plain west of the town of Most. Fontaines moved to block them and was only 12 miles to the south east of the Protestant army on the 2nd of June. The battlefield at Žatec was an open plain split west to east by the course of the Ohre River. To north and south were clusters of hills, shallower but more wooded to the north.

Fontaines arrayed his army facing west, anchored by these hills. Given the huge array of languages, he tried his best to apportion divisions under a commander with the same language. Fontaines himself took the main bulk of the French and Savoyard infantry on the right, northern flank whilst Archduke Maximillian had the German and Italian-speaking infantry on the left. The centre was given to the Poles of Jan Chodkiewicz and King Sigismund, who had only agreed to take orders from Fontaine after Maximillian and Archbishop of Vienna ordered him to. Finally the flanking cavalry fell to Duke Charles-Emmanuel on the right and Romboldo, Count of Collalto on the left. Fontaine hoped to follow Tilly’s tactics at the Battle of Tommel and use his own personal divisions, supported by the Poles to smash through and then encircled the Protestants whilst the Austrians held the left flank.

Across the field, Albert-Henry arrayed his forces in a more conservative manner. This was the largest battle he had ever fought, and his entire Kingdom and Duchy were on the line. Accordingly he placed Magnus and the English infantry on his left flank whilst Thurn and himself held the centre with the inexperienced Bohemians. Finally on the right came John of Saxe-Weimar’s infantry and Charles of Mecklenberg’s heavier cavalry. Initially the Canaanite light infantry and Vladstejna’s Hussars were kept in the rear.

On the morning of the 3rd of June the Battle of Žatec began with a huge artillery bombardment from the Protestant guns. The Catholic gunners responded, but they were outnumbered and out-trained, their only saving grace was that the wind blew smoke in the eyes of the Protestant gunners and obscured their targets. During this exchange, there were a few light skirmishes in the meadows between the two sides but neither army got the better of them.

Finally, around noon, Albert-Henry gave the order to advance. He hoped that the artillery had done enough damage to the unmoving Catholics to give him the advantage. The Protestants advanced in a steady, organised line with even the Bohemians holding relatively good shape. When they had passed the hamlet of Postoloprty, Fontaines gave his own signal to advance. At this, his own divisions shot ahead of the rest of the army, with the Poles in the centre hurrying to keep up. This was part of Fontaines’ plan, and his own divisions met the English infantry first, outnumbering them 2:1, both sides exchanged a volley and whilst the English reloaded, the French and Savoyards charged. This broke the English line and Magnus the Younger and his men began to retreat. Fontaines ordered a brief chase and then signalled the halt, which was ignored by the Savoyard infantry and their Duke’s cavalry. Charles-Emmanuel refused to reign his men in, sensing victory and glory for himself.

In the centre, the Poles crashed home into the Bohemian divisions, only being stopped by Thurn’s personal, professional, units which he had maneuvred to take the charge. Meanwhile further south, the German speaking opponents began to exchange volleys at distance whilst the guns continued to pound away. Magnus the Younger was able to steady his line, just in time to receive the Savoyard cavalry, and it was now that Albert sprung his trap. Only someone as skilled as Magnus the Younger could feign flight from battle to lead in the enemy. The Catholic thrust on the right had played into his hands; the Protestant Hussars emerged from the wooded foothills to the north and closed in on the heavy Savoy Cavalry, whilst the Canaanite infantry made for the exposed Catholic guns lying in the rear.

Though outweighed by their Savoy opposition, the Hussars were expertly led by Albrecht Valdstejna who used his superior numbers, and the Schragbus to break Charles-Emmanuel’s force and to send the Duke fleeing to the west. Fontaines saw this ambush to his right, but his forces had already engaged Thurn on the flank. Between the professional French and Polish attacks, the Bohemians started to take grievous casualties. Thurn had little help from his south – John of Saxe-Weimar had charged into Archduke Maximillian, and his expert Brandenbergers were making ground, but locked in combat. Denied a target by the terrain, Charles of Mecklenberg's cavalry circled north around the Protestant rear.

The weight of the battle swung in the centre. Though fighting for their homeland, the Bohemian volunteers could only do so much against professional soldiers, and their rear ranks began to waver. Just at this moment, Magnus and Albert I arrived in the French rear and Polish flank and began to take pressure from the beleaguered Bohemians. Simultaneously, the Poles began taking fire from their own guns in the rear as Volchek Hamzel’s men finally captured them. King Sigismund had been about to throw Jan Sapieha’s Winged Hussars at the English flank, but made the decision to split them in half, sending 50% of them to retake the guns. This proved to be an unwise decision.

No sooner had Sapieha’s half of the Hussars engaged the English flank than Mecklenberg completed his circuit of the field and fell on the Winged Hussars in turn. Sapieha would be the first commander to die at Žatec. With Hussars in flight and Fontaines’ force becoming surrounded, he attempted to withdraw too and reform the line. In this action he himself was also killed and all semblance of order in the Catholic ranks collapsed. Fontaines had avoided political squabbles by not designating either Maximillian or Sigismund his second in command. This role fell to the Count of Collalto who had brought his own cavalry to the melee in the centre of the field. Seeing Fontaines’ banner fall and his men begin to flee, Collalto requested Jan Chodkiewicz to take command of the centre and rally the men. This order, however was overruled by King Sigismund who decided that no more Polish blood would be spilled in this battle. Sigismund ordered his men to withdraw.

In anger and frustration, Collalto threw his own cavalry at the English line, causing more grievous damage but being unable to sway the tide of the battle. Seeing their tormentors in the French and Poles beginning to withdraw, the Bohemians were emboldened and rallied, forcing Collalto to withdraw too. Seeing this Maximillian had no choice but to withdraw as well. Hamzel’s Canaanites, seeing their entire enemy fleeing towards them merely spiked the guns and disappeared into the undergrowth to await the end of the battle, they were not equipped to hold the whole Catholic host.

The Catholic army retreated around 20 miles to Zlonice before Maximillian, Collalto, Chodkiewicz and Sigismund were able to meet and discuss their next move. The Poles still had around 11,000 men and the Austrians 9,000 with Collalto possessing around 2,000 Italian cavalry and a further 3,000 infantry. No-one knew what had become of Charles-Emmanuel and the remaining Savoy contingent. He would clatter into Nuremberg three days later with hysterical tales of a monstrous Protestant horde. The meeting at Zlonice was full of recrimination and blame, which even the assembled Bishops and Archbishops could not solve. Maximillian commanded the Poles to stay and defend Prague whilst their King Sigismund ordered them to return home. In the end, a bad tempered row on the night of the 8th, and news from Žatec that Albert was still to move, sent Sigismund marching off into the night with his army following behind.

Demoralised and furious, there was little Maximillian and Collalto could do with 14,000 men to hold Bohemia, even when they recalled their garrisons. Reluctantly, the Archduke decided to return to Austria by way of Tabor, with the Italians in tow. This march was not a calm one, and the Catholic survivors were forced to clear the roads of angry peasants and blockades in numerous towns, the only saving grace was that Albert I did not pursue them.

The reason for Albert I’s hesitancy was obvious; Thurn was injured. The pillar of Bohemian loyalty to their new King had taken a musket ball to the collar bone. Out of respect, and the need to care for the other wounded, Albert dispatched only Valdstejna to shadow and harry the Catholics until they left Bohemia. King Albert finally entered his city in triumph on the 13th of June. For the second time in a year Prague – though wounded – celebrated the arrival of its King. From the steps of the Cathedral, Albert promised to remain in Bohemia for at least 12 months to rebuild and secure the Kingdom. There he could rebuild his strength and prepare to defeat Poland, and unite his realms, once and for all.

Thank you watching the Generals and Kings channel, we will catch you on the next one.

 

[CrepedCrusader]

Thanks as ever for continued support and encouragement, lots of interesting stuff coming up, I hope. Thanks also for the votes, just so you know that I will put as much detail in as I can but try to give more on politics. The battles will be on average shorter going forward, but only for minor ones, Zatek was not a minor battle and so it took up a lot of space! This battle, more than any other, will secure the east for the Protestants, though it is not a strait road by any means.

 

[CrepedCrusader]

Huh. Not much to say about the April days, except for this - why did they not try and get Richard? It sounds like he didn't have much of a force protecting him in Westminster, and that there wasn't any real danger of immediate attack. Capturing Richard would have left their enemies leaderless and given them an ability to actually win without too much fighting.

Mixture of reasons, the main one being that Henry Tudor is in command, and it takes the old loyalist time to actually consider fighting his Emperor. Also Hatton had forced Richard into Westminster Abbey so it's not like he was wandering the streets of London (that isn't Richard's style)

Nice stuff, preventing further French forces coming from the sea (probably), though maybe burning Antwerp's port should have also been done? On the other hand, getting a force to Antwerp will probably require marching over France anyway, now that La Rochelle was burned.

Oh yeah, hadn't given Antwerp much thought. My only idea was the Britannic fleet makes Antwerp useless for the Catholics in times of war. Burning it would only upset the city they want to win back.

I'm also not sure what Edvard is fishing for - does he really think he can retake Brabant and Liege when they've obviously easily fallen because they had large Catholic populations? Or is he playing for time until the Protestants in the east win and can reinforce him, or England comes to its senses?

Edvard is simply hoping for something to change, maybe the English or maybe the east? Just something would be nice. The main thing with Edvard is that he doesn't want to be the one to sell away his father's legacy: his brother William also died for it.

Ooooh, sounds like great news for my new favorite descendant of York, can't wait to see it!

Oh aye, hoped you enjoyed tonight's update!

 

[Meneldur]

The Saxon Duke John would marry Elizabeth of Hesse, Franck’s eldest daughter and her dowry would be 8,000 Brandenberg soldiers to assist Albert-Henry in the coming campaign

Ha, called it again! But man, if Franck has no sons, John would rule a realm that would be the equal of the Britannic Empire in Europe.

Whilst Franck and Albert negotiated in Dresden, the situation in Bohemia was far from unstable

I think you mean 'far from stable' given what you then describe

entering the central plain west of the town of Most

Albert Henry commands the Host with the Most~!

This battle, more than any other, will secure the east for the Protestants, though it is not a strait road by any means.

Oh, yes, I can see that. I loved the detailed decriptions of these battles, Albert-Henry is a worthy successor to his ancestors. And this is him without as many professional troops and commanders as his ancestors had, they must be very proud of him

Mixture of reasons, the main one being that Henry Tudor is in command, and it takes the old loyalist time to actually consider fighting his Emperor. Also Hatton had forced Richard into Westminster Abbey so it's not like he was wandering the streets of London (that isn't Richard's style)

The first reason makes sense, but the second reason... on the one hand, it's a sanctuary, so they might not be willing to seize him. On the other hand, it means it's completely undefended. But I guess it works, you need someone to be willing to breach sanctuary, and Henry isn't that kind of guy (ironic, given Henry VIII's otl dissolution of monasteries).

Oh yeah, hadn't given Antwerp much thought. My only idea was the Britannic fleet makes Antwerp useless for the Catholics in times of war. Burning it would only upset the city they want to win back.

Guess that makes sense, it's probably blockaded well enough, it doesn't seem like the Catholics have much of anything in way of a fleet

Edvard is simply hoping for something to change, maybe the English or maybe the east? Just something would be nice. The main thing with Edvard is that he doesn't want to be the one to sell away his father's legacy: his brother William also died for it.

Ah, that does make a lot of sense. Poor Edvard, fighting so hard and having lost so much, while to his east Albert Henry is making it look easy and to his west Richard is not doing anything, while Edward all Mann also makes it looks it easy. I get the feeling Edvard will be very much underappreciated as a commander compared to these two, when the truth is that he probably faced the strongest armies with the best commanders (Tilly) compared to them.

Oh aye, hoped you enjoyed tonight's update!

I did, and I can't wait for more!

 

[CrepedCrusader]

‘The search for a cause: political justification in the First Britannic Civil War' by Prof. RJ Evans in Political Science Review 1997

The First Britannic Civil War officially began on the 6th of April 1607 following the days of riots, unrest and politically motivated murders in London known as the April Days. This essay will analyse the development of political justification for the cause against Emperor Richard II, primarily on the part of Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, and his contemporaries.

Political unrest was easy to motivate in the early modern period, but incredibly hard to sustain and to achieve the stated goals. The Great Catholic Rebellion, the Ware Rebellion and the Connacht Rising are just three Britannic examples from the later 16th century. All three of these risings, however had some degree of religious motivation and all were ultimately failures, despite initial successes. Being Catholic rebellions, this trio of rebellions were necessarily limited and on the back-foot immediately from the Protestant ruling elite. Even smaller rebellions such as those in Cornwall, Wales and Yorkshire all had some kind of religious contention or occurred in times of economic upheaval, most often caused by the enclosure of farmland.

The Tudor-Parliamentary cause in the First Civil War was noticeably different from these earlier, failed, rebellions. First it was not a Catholic rising. Indeed it could be said that the rebels were more Puritan or Presbyterian in outlook and did not appreciate the Emperor’s continued monopoly over the Britannic Church. Though present, however, religious motivations were only ever a supporting factor for the Parliamentary cause. Many of the MPs who joined Tudor early on – Thomas Richardson prime amongst them – were Presbyterians, but their primary aim was the restoration of Parliament.

Secondly, the Tudor-Parliamentary cause enjoyed a fairly broad social base, if not entirely geographically broad. In the spring of 1607, supporters of the rebellion were largely limited to East Anglia and London, the latter only becoming overt after Richard II left the city in June. This region was most politically aware, and most affected by the exorbitant tariffs which the Emperor had placed on imports to pay for his army. Yet in this corner of England, the rebels were represented by almost every social class: nobility, gentry, merchants, craftsmen, burghers, yeomen and landless commoners.

From this base of disparate people and grievances, Henry Tudor had to build a cause in order to remove Richard II. It had to be as broad as possible and have enough legitimacy to win over ample support. To understand the choices he made we must look at the context he existed in during the spring and summer of 1607. Henry Tudor was an attainted traitor throughout 1607, accused of consorting with the Emperor’s enemies. His ‘escape’ from the Tower during the April Days was taken by the Stewart regime as proof as his guilt. In this regard Tudor led a band of ‘traitors’. The Earls of Thetford, Essex, St Albans, Lincoln, Wiltshire and of course Richmond were all attainted traitors, not to mention over 100 MPs and a further 200 others. This number included the ‘European Lords’ of Amiens, Normandy, Oudenberg, Pembroke-Gloucester and Magnus the Red who, though attainted, played little part in the Civil War as they had their hands full on the continent. Tudor’s status handicapped him and simultaneously gave him his first bargaining chip.

The St Paul’s address had already been Tudor’s insistence of his innocence, supported by his astronomical reputation with the commons, and so he could claim that these bogus charges against him and his companions were evidence of Richard II’s tyranny. In this regard the execution of the Earl of Lincoln was another prime weapon in the Tudor arsenal. To Richard II’s detractors he had become a tyrant, murdering his subjects without legal cause, just like his English namesake in the 1390s. The first plank of the Tudor manifesto was thus the illegitimacy of Richard II’s rule and his treatment of law and order. The issue with this plank is that it was, by its very nature, narrow. Why should a poor farmer in Cheshire, or fisherman in Northumberland, risk his life for a bunch of high-born nobles and gentry falsely accused of treason? In London and the south-east there were enough people connected to the attainted traitors to gather support in their defence, but this reason became weaker further from the capital.

The second plank of the Tudor manifesto was Richard’s high taxation and tariffs. Again, in London and the south-east, and in Bristol to a lesser extent, these high taxes on New World imports and Chai were especially hated. Furthermore, they had a deleterious effect on trade and the economy threatening merchant houses and sailors who served on their ships. Once more, however, the issue with this cause was that it only really affected a narrow part of the realm socially and geographically. It certainly brought Tudor much needed support and funds from the city of London, the likes of Hugh Audley in the lead, but it did little to motivate the kind of numbers of people which Tudor needed.

The third issue was the closure of Parliament. Strongly connected with high taxes and Richard’s tyrannical behaviour, the chaining of Parliament touched an old and sensitive nerve in the political currents of England, but again only in certain circles. TB Macauley and others, known as the ‘Whig’ school, cited Richard II’s downfall as coming from his disregard for Magna Carta and the slowly evolving constitutional monarchy in the Britannic Empire. Yet in classic ‘Whig’ style they have put the constitutional cart before the metaphorical horse. Parliament’s closure was certainly felt keenly by the MPs and those few politically enfranchised who keenly felt the loss of their one limiter upon their unruly Emperor, but no one in 1607 was lamenting the loss of constitutional monarchy or the rights of Magna Carta – they were not political realities. Instead, Parliament became a means to an end for the rebels; they felt that with a return to Parliament they may have a better chance of reducing taxes.

It must also be said that Tudor was not a Parliamentarian. Certainly, he enjoyed their support, and courted their popularity when he needed it most, but in this regard Tudor and Richardson’s Parliamentarians were natural allies against a common foe. It is also true the Parliamentary cause was useful in broadening the appeal of Tudor’s cause to a wider audience, and he thumped that tub accordingly, but he was not a visionary of a Parliamentary Monarchy as some have painted him.

Such was the lay of the land in April 1607. Before we consider Henry Tudor’s actual actions we must ask ourselves what his possible aims would have been. The big question is whether Tudor wanted to depose Richard II. Tudor perhaps had an outside chance of taking Richard prisoner during the April Days and chose not to take it. Though tactically exposed, this retreat from London is often taken as Tudor’s reticence to directly raise arms against his Emperor. Tudor, however, had limited options by the end of the month. With himself outlawed and a bounty placed on his head, Tudor’s only hope for a return to the status quo must have been to bring Richard to the negotiating table. Tudor had already failed to do this twice and must have realised that doing so without force of arms was pointless. Reluctantly then, Tudor must have hoped to leverage Richard into negotiations in order to clear his name, and those of his fellow ‘traitors’.

Lurking in the background of all of this was the European War. Many of the rebels, and neutrals in England, wanted war with the Catholic powers, something Richard II was unwilling to do. However, after the April Days this aim was entirely impractical. Oudenberg and his compatriots were rendering what assistance they could to the Dutch, and even Richard II could not send aid to Brittany until he dealt with the insurrection in South-East England. To help in Europe, first the division in England needed to be resolved.

So from these narrow beginnings, how did the Tudor-Parliamentary faction create a cause which was able to contest the Britannic Civil War? For the first two months of the rising, Tudor and his fellows merely kept to East Anglia trying to reinforce and consolidate their power base. East Anglia was one of the wealthiest rural parts of the entire empire and had some of the best agricultural land. It was also one of the most politically aware regions and had deep roots in both Puritanism and Presbyterianism. Furthermore, the region was flat and criss-crossed with water courses making defence relatively easy, it also enjoyed easy access to the continent and with the Britannic Navy’s neutrality in the early stages of the war, and the clandestine support of Admiral William Monson, the rebels could bring in supplies by sea. As locations to begin a rebellion went, it was not bad.

The situation improved even further in early June 1607. London, which had been restless since the April Days, firmly declared for the rebel cause. This was perhaps inevitable. After the April Days, Richard II and Lord Protector Hatton had been constantly touring the capital with groups of soldiers to keep the peace and intimidate the populace into silence. It was not a strategy which could last forever, and apparently Richard and his Lord Protector agreed. On the 3rd of June both men and their retinues, along with the other Lords of March, marched north for Leicester and the oncoming army of William Stewart in the dead of night. The Mayor of London, Sir Henry Rowe, declared for Tudor the next morning and the counties of Kent and Sussex followed within a week. These new areas brought Tudor easier access to the coast, further men and material, but most importantly they brought London’s industrial base and printing presses into the Parliamentarian fold.

These printing presses were especially helpful. Pamphlets and handbills began to be churned out and distributed across the south of England with all haste. These espoused the Tudor-Parliamentarian cause: that of just rule, fair taxes and a defence of the faith. By the middle of June, with Emperor Richard marching on Northampton with close to 25,000 men, Tudor finally found the cause for his rebellion. These three aims were eloquently summed up by the demands of the rebels: a disbandment of the Emperor’s army, a recall of Parliament and Tudor’s appointment as Lord Protector. This last demand in particular was surprising. Tudor had never been fired as Protector but had resigned voluntarily as Richard’s demands became more challenging. His request to return to the role must have surely been pragmatic and shown his desperation to reach a solution with minimal bloodshed.

What other choice did Tudor have? These three demands enjoyed broad support and were hopefully acceptable to even moderate supporters of the Emperor. By midsummer 1607, Scotland had of course declared for their King, but so too had Wales and much of the north who were generally suspicious of London’s political elite and their radical new religious ideas whilst not really being affected by tariffs on Chai and similar goods. This left the midlands and west country still largely undecided, and Tudor was clearly attempting to appeal to them.

The radical alternative: deposing Richard entirely, was not really a realistic option. Who would replace him? His heir, Richard Prince of Wales was twelve and would merely be a proxy for the wishes of his father and his gaggle of Scottish Lords. Richard’s eldest daughter Anna was married to Arthur Tudor, now aged eighteen and Henry Tudor’s heir. Any chance to rule through the daughter would be scotched by claims that the Tudor’s were trying to seize power. The third Stewart child, Margaret, had died in a riding accident aged eight.

Beyond Richard II and his progeny, the dynastic alternatives were no more appealing. The only other surviving grandson of Edward VI, through his mother Joanna, was Edvard King of the Netherlands, who had enough on his plate in 1607. Moving even further back, the rebels would have been looking at the descendants of Richard III which would have been (in order) the Duke of Brittany and his offspring, the King of Ireland, or the present Earls of Huntingdon, allies of Richard II. The dynastic door was firmly closed.

Henry Tudor was left with his manifesto, first published in mid-June 1607 and updated throughout the summer. It may have been fairly pedestrian, but it was enough to forestall Richard’s advance through Northamptonshire and forced him to return north where he established court in Nottingham. Meanwhile, Tudor began to marshal forces and to train an army, not seeking battle, but being ready to face one if Richard once again tried to advance upon the capital. All summer and on into the autumn, a cautious shadow game broke out where Richard and Tudor both tried to sway neutral or undecided factions to their side.

A brief note on the Columbia Secession. On the 19th of August 1607, Sir Francis Bacon, leading academic at the University of Hartsport in Grand Colombia published his ‘note of secession’ and within a month the administration of this colony had completely broken from London in all but name; tariffs were not collected, and officers of the Crown were chased from Hartsport and Tettington. This note was the first practical application of Bacon’s philosophical ideas which would become Baconism. In these early days, Baconism was not the rounded political philosophy of representation and responsibility which we know today, but simply the belief that Colombia should not pay its obligations to the Emperor in the light of his war against his own people. These actions in Colombia would only make a tiny ripple in England to begin with, though they would shock the New World.

Fundamentally, the Colombia Secession was a none-event to the Tudor-Parliamentary faction for at least a couple of years. They could not merely cut off tariff payments to Richard II and be done with it, they had to contend with his agents and his army massing in the midlands. At any rate, it would be the depths of winter before news of Colombia’s Secession from the Empire arrived in England and the situation for the rebels would have already changed rapidly by that point.

The Battle of Billesdon on the 17th of October 1607 was the first battle of the Britannic Civil War (not counting the ‘Battle’ of Newgate during the April Days). It was a short and inconclusive affair. Both sides had around 20,000 men and the battle was cut short due to heavy rain. The battle is instead remarkable for Tudor’s justification for it. Since June, Richard II had repeatedly and loudly demanded Tudor’s surrender and refused to bow to any of his demands. Tudor thus declared that he was moving to Leicester in force to parlay with the Emperor. Richard II instead turned up with an army and the brief skirmish ensued before the weather forced a withdrawal. Tudor was still publicly being pragmatic and as peacable as he could, and it is known at this stage that St Albans and Thetford in particular were pushing for a more belligerent stance.

Billesdon signalled the end of the campaign for 1607. The weeks of torrential rain which followed made moving armies incredibly difficult. Both side instead focused on fortifying a rough line from Gloucester-Stratford-Leicester-Lincoln whilst trying to win support on either side of the line.

The problem was that in the autumn and winter of 1607 both sides still seemed evenly matched. Richard II enjoyed the unconditional support of the Scots as well as the tacit support of much of the northerners and midlands including the Earls of Humber, Northumberland, Westmorland, Derby and Huntingdon whilst the majority of the north and west were willing to support him in exchange for promises of concessions. For all of his propaganda and efforts, Tudor could only call on half of England for support. Aside from Colombia’s secession and the European Earldoms going their own way, the rest of the Empire had remained neutral so far, including Ireland. In the New World, silver continued to pour north from Potcham whilst only Raleigh and Goughton declared for the Emperor.

The House of Hastings were a small but powerful family in Lincolnshire. They had risen to prominence through service to the first Yorkist King Edward IV but since then had lapsed back into relative obscurity. However, their powerbase lay on the informal border between the two factions and so they were a plump prize. Furthermore, the land to their south was owned by the Earls of Lincoln and St Albans, both attainted, it would be a fine addition to the family’s wealth. Both Tudor and Richard tried to court the Hastings family but they remained neutral and undeclared into the winter of 1607. It was the pursuit of this family that changed the fate of the entire World.

In November 1607, Henry Tudor himself was returning from another unsuccessful parlay at Tattershal in Lincolnshire when his small party travelled through Corby Glen in the south of the county. The rain, which had fallen almost unabated throughout the last month, had reduced visibility and manoeuvrability. In this narrow valley it seems that Tudor’s party was attacked by bandits. Whether or not they were acting alone, or with orders from Richard II or Lord Hastings, at the end of the small skirmish Tudor’s men had scattered and the Earl himself was found on the field, alive but unconscious. These brigands brought the rebel leader first to Grantham and then to Nottingham before the Emperor on the 25th of November 1607. Tudor never regained consciousness and died the next day.

Where Henry Tudor had failed in life, he had been incredibly successful in death. Regardless of the real circumstances of the ‘Battle’ of Corby Glen, to the moderate and undecided it seemed from every angle that Richard II had conspired to murder his opponent. Hastings eventually would join Tudor’s faction, citing outrage at the latter’s death, but it does not exonerate him from involvement in the ambush, It only demonstrates that Hastings had read the room.

With the death of Henry Tudor, the Parliamentary cause lost their greatest cheerleader but gained a martyr. Thomas Richardson and Thomas Cromwell II, Earl of Essex took over leadership responsibilities, and the presses of London began churning out eulogies to Henry ‘the unfortunate’. William Shakespeare even wrote a play about him, entitled simply ‘Richmond’ which would become a favourite of the rebel arts scene.

Whereas Henry Tudor had been the moderate voice of opposition to Richard II, his death inevitably led to a radicalisation of the cause. All of the charges against Richard II still stood, but he was now engaged in political assassinations to boot. The calls for all out war against the Emperor in London, Cambridge, Norwich and elsewhere only strengthened.

Most of all, the death of Henry Tudor opened the way for a clear cause and solution to the Ricardian problem: a dynastic solution. After a month of silence, on Christmas Eve, Princess Anna and her husband Arthur Tudor appeared at the rebuilt Imperial Hall accompanied by the Bishop of Norwich, William Helyar, who had become the religious face of the rebels after John Whitgift had fled north with his Emperor. Surrounded by the rebels, with Richardson and Essex at the fore, Anna and Arthur declared that they together would rule in her father’s stead, fulfilling the role of Protector and Empress together. They pledged to recall Parliament, and make Arthur Lord Protector as Anna herself acted as the figurehead of government. This was a radical solution, but it had merit.

Richard II was by now seen by many as a poisoned chalice, and his son and heir likewise hopelessly caught under his father’s influence. Just as Edward IV had back in 1461, Anna and Arthur together claimed the throne as the only viable alternative to a hopeless tyrant and his helplessly compromised son. The parallels did not stop there. Arthur, like Edward IV before him, demanded justice for his father and pledged to clear his own and his father’s name. The London printing presses swung into overdrive once more as pamphlets and other propaganda in support of this arrangement were churned out. Chief amongst them was a new symbol: the Triple Bouquet. A Blue Thistle of Scotland flanked by a rose on either side, the white of York to the left, the red of Lancaster to the right. This was a powerful symbol of the triple claim which Anna and Arthur had to the throne of Britannia: through the Stewart claim, the old York line through Anna’s grandmother and the Lancastrian line through Tudor descent.

In the wave of sympathy and emotion which followed Corby Glen, the Parliamentary-Tudor faction had their new figure-head and their new cause to fight for. Fired up, offensives were already planned for the coming Spring.

The eight months between April and December 1607 offer an interesting microcosm into the justification for political opposition. None of the religious, legal, economic or political arguments alone were ample enough to provide support for Henry Tudor. Simply put, they were an aggregate of grievances but did not offer any real solution beyond a slight, and incredibly speculative, tweak on the status quo. - that being to bring Richard II back to the table and hope that he played ball. Whilst he was alive Henry Tudor could achieve little else. In death, however, he gave that extra push of justification needed to allow even moderates to consider deposing their Emperor. Not only that, but through the shrewd political maneuvring of Thomas Richardson and Robert Devereux, Tudor’s death provided the solution to the realm’s problems: a York-Tudor dynasty.

 

[CrepedCrusader]

Really not 100% sure on this update, so opinions would be much appreciated, CC

 

[The Professor]

Really not 100% sure on this update, so opinions would be much appreciated, CC

Seemed to go a little quick in places but reads well.

 

[Meneldur]

This number included the ‘European Lords’ of Amiens, Normandy, Oudenberg, Pembroke-Gloucester and Magnus the Red who, though attainted, played little part in the Civil War as they had their hands full on the continent. Tudor’s status handicapped him and simultaneously gave him his first bargaining chip.

So wait, Albert has been officially attainted now? Logically, that means Richard can claim all his lands, but that his men who hold his lands and castles (if they're loyal) would declare for Tudor. I'd have expected Hatton to explain this to Richard (especially since Albert has really done nothing in this conflict other than not answer summons because he's fighting a war), and leave Gloucester-Pembroke to be another portion of the country the rebels and Richard are each trying to sway to their side, with the rebels eventually succeeding by getting Magnus to send them some written support.

Really not 100% sure on this update, so opinions would be much appreciated, CC

I liked this a lot. It was a very interesting look at the political realities of the war, not just the physical ones, and tried to explain the mentality and underpinnings of why the war happened as it did, why the actors did what they did, and how it was really the only thing they could do. I think the Tudor-York dynasty is a very clever idea, supported by the historical parallels, and of course, shades of otl in the Glorious Revolution. Tudor dying the way he did also works for me, because it leaves a mystery for the ages, but is of course very convenient for everyone.

The issues I do have with it are as follows:
What surprises me is how much of the North is for Richard, because the traditional Scottish enmity would have made them natural candidates to fight him, I'd think. But maybe since the Empire started that's gone down on both sides of the border?

For that matter, the fact is that of course the Lords of March are for Richard, but you'd expect all their neighbors (who lost parts of their lands to these lords) to rise against him the moment they could, wanting their lands back and not liking the Scots. Hastings should actually be a good example of this.

Another issue is that I'd have expected Tudor to emphasize the religious angle of Protestants supporting one another. Logically, defending Brittany and the other Britannic positions on the Mainland against the Catholics would be a popular opinion among the populace, nobles and army, and Richard wasn't doing it. You'd think that such a war would be popular, and that Richard would be seen as a coward or at least weak for not going to war with the Catholics. Why didn't Tudor play on that - have one of his demands being that they support the rest of the Protestants. This is especially glaring given the Oudenburg letter to Albert-Henry. Tudor could have been garnering support by getting letters of support from the European lords, emphasizing loyalty to the Protestant ideal as a whole, to Protestant unity, and how Richard had betrayed that ideal in favor of narrow sectarian interests. You'd think such support from the European lords who do hold lands in England (which should be under control of their followers until Richard tries to take them over - Oudenburg is Duke of York, for example, Albert-Henry of Gloucester and Pembroke) might at least sway their loyalists/followers/vassals.

 

[CrepedCrusader]

So wait, Albert has been officially attainted now? Logically, that means Richard can claim all his lands, but that his men who hold his lands and castles (if they're loyal) would declare for Tudor. I'd have expected Hatton to explain this to Richard (especially since Albert has really done nothing in this conflict other than not answer summons because he's fighting a war), and leave Gloucester-Pembroke to be another portion of the country the rebels and Richard are each trying to sway to their side, with the rebels eventually succeeding by getting Magnus to send them some written support.

I liked this a lot. It was a very interesting look at the political realities of the war, not just the physical ones, and tried to explain the mentality and underpinnings of why the war happened as it did, why the actors did what they did, and how it was really the only thing they could do. I think the Tudor-York dynasty is a very clever idea, supported by the historical parallels, and of course, shades of otl in the Glorious Revolution. Tudor dying the way he did also works for me, because it leaves a mystery for the ages, but is of course very convenient for everyone.

The issues I do have with it are as follows:
What surprises me is how much of the North is for Richard, because the traditional Scottish enmity would have made them natural candidates to fight him, I'd think. But maybe since the Empire started that's gone down on both sides of the border?

For that matter, the fact is that of course the Lords of March are for Richard, but you'd expect all their neighbors (who lost parts of their lands to these lords) to rise against him the moment they could, wanting their lands back and not liking the Scots. Hastings should actually be a good example of this.

Another issue is that I'd have expected Tudor to emphasize the religious angle of Protestants supporting one another. Logically, defending Brittany and the other Britannic positions on the Mainland against the Catholics would be a popular opinion among the populace, nobles and army, and Richard wasn't doing it. You'd think that such a war would be popular, and that Richard would be seen as a coward or at least weak for not going to war with the Catholics. Why didn't Tudor play on that - have one of his demands being that they support the rest of the Protestants. This is especially glaring given the Oudenburg letter to Albert-Henry. Tudor could have been garnering support by getting letters of support from the European lords, emphasizing loyalty to the Protestant ideal as a whole, to Protestant unity, and how Richard had betrayed that ideal in favor of narrow sectarian interests. You'd think such support from the European lords who do hold lands in England (which should be under control of their followers until Richard tries to take them over - Oudenburg is Duke of York, for example, Albert-Henry of Gloucester and Pembroke) might at least sway their loyalists/followers/vassals.

Thanks Meneldur. I see those issues too, I think that is part of what made me uneasy with the update, there's a few loose threads which may be pulled. I'm going to write a brief update as if it were one of Prof. Evans' response to critics. Having met the guy, he isn't very gentle with them, so it works as a concept. Please know that its for the TL, and me developing it, not an actual attack on my critics. I appreciate the input!

 

[CrepedCrusader]

'The search for a cause: a response' by Prof RJ Evans in Political Science Review, 2001

Four years ago, I penned a brief essay for this volume wherein I analysed the political causes and aims of the Tudor-Parliament faction during the first eight months of the Britannic Civil War in 1607. Given its brevity, and limited scope, the initial essay was necessarily deficient in some respects. I accepted at the time that I had to limit the scope of my comments and generalisations. However, in the intervening time, my many critics have chosen to shoot holes in these generalisations made in a less than 4,000 word essay. This even shorter submission is intended to round out my original work and to silence my critics.

In 1997, I was unable to address the issue of the ‘European Lords'’ English Land, let me do so now. Albert-Henry controlled much of southern Wales and Somerset through his dual titles of Pembroke and Gloucester. Although he had ignored all summons by Richard II, he had not actually raised his hand against the regime. His attainting for treason after the April Days was more seen as a ‘blank slate’ by Richard who it seems could not trust someone so close to Magnus the Red and his son, but also that Richard II took the opportunity to seize valuable land. Suffice it to say that this did not go down well with many of Albert-Henry’s English staff or tenants. Sir John Scudamore was Steward of the Pembroke lands in south Wales and refused to submit to Richard’s agents when they arrived. He was not the only one, but even allied together, without a leader, there was little these men could do to resist Richard II’s actions. Scudamore was lucky in escaping first into Shropshire and eventually across to Norfolk.

Like Scudamore and the Pembroke lands, agents and stewards of the Duchies of York, Gloucester, Rutland and a number of other titles faced the choice between submitting to a new master or remaining loyal to their own, absent, Lord. The latter option was in most cases unviable. James Heydon, Steward of the York lands in Suffolk did not have to make this choice, as he was within Tudor’s sphere of influence from April, but across England and Wales, most of the land of these European Lords was absorbed and given to new men.

Whilst perhaps a wise move in 1607, Richard II inevitably stored up issues for himself. These new men were nominally loyal to him but were certainly only fair-weather friends. A prime example is Richard Cecil – no relation to the previous Keeper of the Privy Seal – of Wiltshire, who purchased some of the confiscated Boleyn land in the county from Imperial Bailiffs, but then failed to serve Richard II in any subsequent battle.

There was a similar situation in the north. The Houses of Warwick, Humber, and Northumberland had little reason to love Richard II, he had shrunk their domains after 1597 and surrounded them by Lords of March. However, precisely because of this fact the Lords themselves had little alternative but to offer visible support for the regime in 1607 whilst looking for a way to back out.

In reality, Richard II’s support came more from the commons, especially those wealthier peasants, who saw something to gain from serving their Emperor. In Wales this was a looser leash upon the region, in the North this was a chance to pay back the regime which had saved them from the Catholic menace. In the midlands, it was a chance to aggrandise themselves on the lands further south, as Hastings may have wanted to do. The truth is, that just as Tudor relied on a myriad of reasons to build a cause, Richard II relied on a range of reasons to counter him.

All of these points merely flesh out my original thesis and help us to understand more clearly who supported which side and why. However I wish to respond to Prof. Ferguson more directly. In his 1999 book ‘Britannia Rising’ he claimed that it was a ‘wave of Protestant zeal and Nationalist fervour’ which drove the Parliamentarians to war against Richard II, and that this was merely a precursor to war in continental Europe. ‘First Richard, then the Catholics’ was his refrain. I must strongly disagree with this suggestion. Not least that Ferguson’s work has been called ‘modern day Whiggery’ by some (Bayly, Johnson and Beard amongst others), but also that Ferguson often sees the ‘Anglo-Saxon Ascendancy’ he so desires in modern Britain in his reading of the past.

As I stated in my initial work in 1997, there was little sense amongst the rebels of a ‘constitutional cause’. Indeed, before Corby Glen, their demands were really a return to the status quo; any talk of constitutionalism is a latter addition to the narrative. So too is Nationalism. Unlike the Second Civil War, which had national identity and the relationship between Anglo and Celt at its heart, the First War had very little of this undertone. Even when Scots and Welsh fought for Richard II, they often fought alongside Englishmen. There was no attempt by Henry Tudor to appeal to National sentiment, it would have been a foreign concept to him.

The issue of pan-Protestantism which Ferguson also suggests is slightly harder to dispel. It is true that the Twenty Years War created a sense of solidarity amongst Protestants, at least in the first few years, but Tudor did not try to appeal to this in order to motivate his cause. In short, there was very little talk and propaganda in 1607 based on fighting the Catholics in Europe. The first order of business was bringing Richard to heal, re-establishing the status quo of the Yorkist compromise and restoring Parliament, war may have then come later.

It does seem odd that Tudor chose not to make a bigger issue of the Protestant cause, especially after the defeat at Eindhoven and the fall of the Vendee. There were of course plenty of people in the Parliamentary cause who wanted war. The Boleyn Earls of Wiltshire had an entire branch in Cambrai fighting the French, but their primary concern in 1607 was removing the taint of treason from their name and reclaiming their lands. Tudor’s desire for war was of course well known, it was this desire which had landed him in the Tower in January after all, but he needed to stabilise England before any European war could be considered.

Ferguson’s main error here was to assume that the idealistic unifying cause of war with the Catholics would have galvanised England to fight its own Emperor. There were certainly some willing to die for this, but England had enough issues of his own, and so Tudor kept this quiet.

Given all that transpired later, it is hard to comprehend that the forces of constitutionalism, greater representation, or national sentiment were not very important in 1607 to the rebel cause. If they were, then Tudor would have used them much more. These forces were far more common at the end of the 17th century in what we have come to call the Enlightenment. In some ways their origin lay in the conflagration of the Twenty Years War and the Britannic Civil War. Tudor could not use these forces to build his cause because he was still trapped in the pre-Enlightenment era whose political philosophy had changed little from the time of Edward IV. This can be seen most clearly in the fact that Tudor appealed to good governance and justice, very similar to what the first Yorkist had used to gather support before the Battle of Towton. It could be said that in his search for a cause, Henry Tudor was faced with a 17th century problem to which he only had 16th century – or even earlier - solutions. This explains why his cause was ultimately weak until his untimely death, and why it strengthened afterwards: it became about a dynastic struggle - an ancient idea that few failed to understand.

 

[Meneldur]

Having met the guy, he isn't very gentle with them, so it works as a concept. Please know that its for the TL, and me developing it, not an actual attack on my critics. I appreciate the input!

How dare he talk to me in this way! I fart in his general direction! His mother was a hamster and his father smelled of elderberries!

The first order of business was bringing Richard to heal

heel.

All good, I like this update, I feel like it does good work in regards to addressing the issues I raised. The observation that it was 17th century problem with only 16th century solutions rang very true. Also, sounds like there's going to be another Civil War... let's hope it happens at a less problematic time.

 

[CrepedCrusader]

The Harp and the Crow: the founding of Gaelland by Daithi Ui Mahuna (2007)

Four hundred years ago, at the dawn of the Bradbury War, Tir na Gaelige was a fragile yet proud civilisation. Numbering around 70,000 people who could trace their ancestors back to Ireland, and a further 90,000 or so from the Muscogee people group, the TNG was a fusion of Old and New World ideas. This fusion was reflected in everyday life and military doctrine.

Tir na Gaelige covered most of modern day Gaerthnafili state [OTL Alabama]. From Dundeirenach [Mobile] on the coast up the Gaerthnafili River to the capital of Tearmann. The realm of the Gaels ran as far east as the Chattahoochee River and west almost as far as the Mizzizzippi. In the north their territory petered out around the Coosa town of Tanasi. This vast area was nominally controlled by Aodh Ui Neill; known to Gaelic speakers An Uachtaran and to Muscogee as Mico of Tearmann [OTL Selma]. Ui Neill was allied to the wider Muscogee peoples and had become a vital part of the southern Norland trading network in the previous 30 years.

The Gaels had introduced metal working, cattle and horses to the area, and later cloth making. Tearmann enjoyed good links with their northern and western neighbours, and Aodh Ui Neill was accepted as another of the Muscogee Clans. It helped that his mother was Muscogee too, and their matrilineal emphasis allowed him relatively easy acceptance.

The Gaels had become an accepted part of life by the Muscogee, who felt enriched at their presence. They mostly lived agrarian and rural lives, as did the Gaels, and language barriers were relatively easily overcome by intermarrying. Even the instances of disease, which so typified first contact in the New World, were markedly reduced in areas encountered by the Gaels. This is not to say that pandemics did not occur, but that they had a lighter effect on the populace.

Religiously, the syncretic Catholicism of the Gaels was well adapted to native Animism. Irish Catholicism had long allowed for space with ‘pagan’ notions of holy trees, hills, or rock formations. By 1607 there were a number of Catholic Priests active in the TNG, and these men also provided education. However, there was little tension between these Priests and the various medicine men and shaman as Aodh allowed for co-existence and kept both in his compound at Tearmann.

The problem, of course, lay in the existential threat to the east. After the scattering of 1581, the Britannic Empire were content to ignore the Gaels who had fled to the Norland interior, but their Huguenot clients in Bradbury were less accommodating. Many Huguenots had served in the Black Summer of 1580 when so many Irish peasants had been massacred or enslaved as a means of bringing down the Connacht Rising. Their pay had been in the form of bonded slaves. It is estimated that by 1607, there were as many as 170,000 Irish slaves in Bradbury country, and a further 120,000 African or Native Norlander slaves too. The Prince of Conde, Henry II, and nominal ruler of Bradbury, was more than aware of the Free Gaelic peoples living beyond his western borders, but lacked the military strength to neuter this threat.

Bradbury slavery was both religious and racial. To the Huguenot, they had come into prime farmland, and the great crop that was Cotton, but they lacked the manpower themselves to exploit it. Instead, Catholics, Blacks and Natives could justifiably be used to extract this cotton. The Huguenot population of Bradbury by this time was around 150,000 with a small Britannic contingent in New Rochelle [Savannah] the capital and main trade port. To them, the only logical choice was to use slaves.

To Aodh and his fellow Gaels, these slaves represented the destiny of Tir na Gaelige. Whilst ever their fellow Celts were in bondage they could not rest or sleep. Despite this dream, Aodh was a realist: the Huguenots were backed by the Britannic Empire who could respond with thousands of soldiers and the latest modern weaponry. In exchange the TNG military doctrine relied on fast and silent attacks using shock and surprise and equipped with bows, spears, swords and little or no armour.

This began to change in 1582 and 1602 with the respective Treaties of Tearmann and Nieu Amsterdam. The first was merely an establishment of contact between the TNG and the New Canaan Republic in New York whilst the latter included the NCR, the Netherlands and Brittany. This later Treaty included a deal to supply weapons and ammunition through Nieu Amsterdam to the Gaels. Brittany was especially motivated in this regard by helping fellow Celts and being uneasy about Britannic actions during the Black Summer. To the Dutch this was merely mercantilism whilst to the Canaanites, the TNG was their own destiny; to defend and uphold the weak.

In 1605, the Gaellic Pirate Queen, Grainne na Mhaille, returned from Paris where she had entreated with the Catholic Holy League. To Henry the Good of France and the others, the Gaels could merely tie down the Britannic navy and colonial forces whilst they attacked in Europe. In the years that followed, Tir na Gaelige prepared for war.

Officially the Gaels had no standing army, but any adult man and unmarried woman – Gael or Native – could be expected to fight. The Gaels possessed light cavalry which they rode without saddles and could use bow, and in a few cases Schragbus, from horseback. However, mostly fighting was done on foot, and quickly.

Aodh also sent entreaties to his north to encourage his fellow Mico to join the war too. This was not a difficult request, the Huguenot had gradually pushed existing clans out of Bradbury including the Hitchiti, Eugala, Chicora, Santee, Sugree and Timucua. These peoples had mostly fled west and had either settled amongst the Muskogee of kept going. Many of these were keen to raid their former lands and the Coosa and Euchee further north in Tanasi were nervously eyeing the encroaching Europeans to the south.

By 1607 they were ready. Aodh was still respectful of the Huguenot’s strength and did not wish a full-scale occupation of captured land. Instead, he aimed for a lightening raid into the fringe of Bradbury to test their defences. The land between the Chattahoochee and Thronatesska [Flint] Rivers was sparsely populated with European farmsteads and plantations. As the Huguenot population grew, so their territory expanded west wards. The only major settlement this far west was Duboisier [OTL Cordele, Ga] which guarded the routes to the east, but was 60 miles short of the ‘border’ on the Chattahoochee.

Duboisier itself was a town of around 5,000 people but had a fort and trading post alongside a garrison of 30 men and a squadron of mounted rangers, 20 in all. These Rangers were ironically based on the new Connacht Rangers back in Ireland and were lightly equipped cavalry staffed by younger sons of landowners designed to keep the peace and to keep an eye out. Nonetheless, Ui Neill chose to avoid the town for now, and throughout May, June and July 1607 set fire to any European settlement he could find between the two rivers. His forces, and those of Sciath Roe O’Donnell, moved quickly, freeing slaves, killing landowners, and torching homes. There were a few spoils of war, most notably cattle, but Aodh outlawed the taking of prisoners or slaves.

Concurrently, Grainne once again took to the seas with around half a dozen small ships. In her flagship, the Beandorcha, the Pirate Queen returned to her old ways, preying on Britannic ships in the Gulf of Hampton and the northern Columbian Sea. As before, Grainne’s spoils were incredibly lucrative, and the traders of Nieu Amsterdam and New York were willing to look the other way and pay her handsomely.

By the time the Hurricane season forced the Gaels to their shelters, a clear message had been sent to the Empire and their Huguenot tenants. Unfortunately, there was little that could be done. The Britannic Civil War was in full swing, and over 4,000 Huguenot soldiers had already departed for contracts in Brittany. The Gaellic Dragon had awoken, and would only return stronger the next year.

 

[Meneldur]

Okay, but what can Tir na Gaelige actually do against Bradbury besides further raids? I suppose they could destroy some major settlements like Duboisier in the next campaign, but if they want to keep the current practice of outlawing the taking of prisoners or slaves, how will they do that? If you take a town of 5000 people, and you're not taking them prisoner, you can either leave them all to die, which seems to be something Aodh wouldn't be in favor of, or you need to give them enough supplies and such that they can make it to the next closest town. That's... a lot to do. I suppose it could be done perhaps for 5000, but for larger groups than that it would be very challenging... furthermore, I can't see Tir na Gaelige's allies actually supporting a full destruction of Bradbury - they do business with them too, after all... Maybe the frontier just moves further east, so Bradbury becomes smaller, but I can't see them actually rescuing all the slaves or destroying all the plantations.

 

[CrepedCrusader]

1608
Of Madness and Piety: Europe 1597-1627, A Thompson (2009)

Jean Tserclaes, Count Tilly and Duke of Brabant, had his work cut out in the winter of 1607-1608. In western Europe the Protestant forces were on the ropes. Despite the defeats at Erdre and Zolder, the tactical situation remained in his favour in western Europe. In the east, the Battle of Zatec had laid bare the worst issues of the Catholic cause. Tilly was without question one of the finest commanders of his age, perhaps the best France had produced in generations, but he was poorly served by subordinates who, though capable, could not work together without his constant supervision. Particularly egregious were the Poles and Spaniards. The former had abandoned Bohemia entirely after Zatec, and the latter – led by the Duke of Lerma – were pursuing their own agenda wherever Tilly was not giving direct orders.

The Count’s problems began in October when the Count of Bucquoy clattered into Versailles spewing dust, bile and blood in the general direction of the Spanish Field Marshal. Lerma, Bucquoy claimed, had choked at the crucial moment and had allowed Nantes to slip through his grasp. Consequently, the Breton had been able to stabilise the front and pegged the Catholics back to their gains in the Vendee. Not two days went past before a Spanish delegation arrived to denounce Bucquoy for dereliction of duty and treason.

All of this whilst Tilly was trying to stabilise the eastern theatre from a distance. Charles-Emmanuel of Savoy had finally been calmed down by the Bavarians when it had become clear that the Protestants were not about to invade, but his ignominious flight from the field at Zatec had won him few admirers. With Sigismund III pulling his entire army back into Poland, it was only the Count of Colalto that was able to hold back the Protestants from advancing into Austria, that and Albert-Henry’s reticence.

Thus as the campaigns of 1607 came to a close, Tilly found himself beset by demands on every side. For the Marshal of Europe himself, he wanted the Dutch to sue for peace and relinquish Brabant in its entirety. Militarily he had achieved this, but King Edvard was digging in his heels and refusing to surrender, not wishing to be the one to tarnish his father’s legacy. Everywhere else was even more complicated. The French delegation were broadly happy, but wanted Tilly to lead an invasion of Brittany in the coming year. The Spanish were becoming increasingly angry that their efforts were only gaining territory for France, and demanded some spoils for themselves. At least Lerma was convinced to drop his charges against Bucquoy – and vice versa – by Tilly’s personal intervention. The real issues were Bohmeia, Austria and Poland.

Maximillian II was rightly furious that his army had disintegrated around him. The Archduke of Austria, however, was a small player in the grand scheme. The Pope, on the other hand, was not and Clement VII sent instructions to convene a conference in Avignon beginning in November 1607 to discuss the next phase of the war. Philip III of Spain announced that he would be attending personally, and so Henry the Good decided to attend too. What Tilly had hoped would be a simple military plan for him became hopelessly caught up in political feuding.

The Council of Avignon opened on the 21st of November 1607 with a High Mass which took the entire day. Thereafter a never-ending parade of meetings and audiences followed where the rulers of Catholic Europe jockeyed for position. Security in Avignon was tight, and over 10,000 soldiers from various realms were present. Order was maintained by the Swiss Guards themselves who constantly had to break up brawls and duels. For all the drama and intrigue, Tilly was able to make progress.

The first decisions were taken by Pope Clement himself. The Papacy had also detected the fractious and inefficient command structure within the armies of the Holy League. Clement therefore issued the Bull 'In Pontifex Militarum' where he took the extreme step of appointing a Cardinal, and members of the inquisition to any military force numbering greater than 10,000 men. Officially the role of these men would be to support the morale of the army, but from the beginning it was clear that a Cardinal could arbitrate between commanders and, in the event of an impasse, enforce a course of action. This had almost worked in Brittany, as the Bishops of Lucon and Angers had taken decisive action between Lerma and Bucquoy, and it was hoped that such measures could prevent another disaster like the collapse at Zatec.

The east dominated much of the Avignon Council. Albert-Henry was singlehandedly carving large chunks from the Catholic domain and seemed unstoppable. Certainly Maximillian II and a coalition of France, Savoy, Italian States, Austria and Poland had not been able to stop him. A Polish delegation was present at Avignon, but it was led by the ageing Lord Chancellor Jan Zamoyski. Zamoyski was a political animal, but could not make any military decisions or pledges. His presence was akin to King Sigismund fobbing off the Catholic community and all but declaring his intentions to go his own way in the coming campaign. Indeed, after 1607 Poland was becoming increasingly vulnerable to the House of Pembroke-Prussia and Sigismund would have his hands full trying to keep his Kingdom together.

Accordingly, it was decided at Avignon to count Poland out of any future discussions, and Zamoyski was dismissed by the 11th of December for the long, cold journey home. Sigismund himself was censured by the Pope. This was not an excommunication, but was the next best thing. Poland was practically on their own.

The issue of the east remained. Clement was loath to abandon the Habsburgs, and Cardinal Borghese, his right hand at Avignon, was strongly in agreement. It may seem bizarre that the Holy See should continue to prop up a dynasty which had spent the last century or so in decline, and had failed to secure their territory for the last few years. Weak though he was, Maximillian nonetheless dominated eastern Europe for Catholicism, and with Poland cast onto the naughty-step it was only he, with the Bavarians in support, who could hold the eastern flank of Catholicism against the triple threat of the Ottomans, Russians and Protestants. A new strategy had to be devised, one which would strengthen the eastern fringe of Catholicism.

Thus, the plans for the Wurttemberg Campaign were laid. Despite his better judgement, Jean Tsercales found himself planning operations in a third region. He had been manipulated into this by Borghese and Pope Clement, who also hoped to placate the Spaniards. Wurttemberg had been a Protestant Duchy since the Palatinate War in the 1570s, but it encircled and encapsulated the smaller Duchy of Baden, which was divided between the Catholic Baden-Baden and Protestant Baden-Durlich. The former was tolerated given its isolation, but by 1607 it was a convenient cassus belli for war, having been suppressed for decades. Crucially, Wurttemberg occupied a strip of land between the Rhine and the Danube rivers. This 100 or so miles of territory separated the two halves of Catholic Europe – France and Bavaria. If Wurttemberg could be secured, and placed in the hands of a reliable Catholic, it would therefore allow forces to be shuffled to the east without the long arduous route around the Alps and the Swiss.

Wurttemberg solved many of Tilly’s problems. With vague promises to Phillip III that the seized land would be passed to a Spaniard, and Tilly’s decision to lead the bulk of forces personally over the Rhine, all attention could be placed on the Duchy. Tilly did not neglect other fronts. Antoine de Gramont was given the task of holding the Loire and Vendee whilst Francois De Bonne held the border to the north. Tilly’s most important front was still Brabant, and this he gave to Bucquoy with the charge to hold it at all costs. This would be an easier challenge than taking Wurttemberg, all Bucquoy had to do was hold the land south of the River Meuse, and the only settlement remaining in Dutch hands – Hergotenbosch – and Tilly would be able to return and complete the campaign. That only really left Albert-Henry in the east, but Tilly could not really control him, that was precisely the problem, Maximillian II was given the task of holding Austria and that was all that could be done. Hopefully, the Protestant doyen of the east would expend himself against the useless Poles.

Generals and Kings Channel: 'The Battle of Brackenheim'

Welcome to the Generals and Kings Channel and our ongoing series on the Twenty Years War. By the early months of 1608, the Marshal of Europe, Jean Tserclaes, better known to History as Count Tilly was ready to launch what he hoped to be the final phase of the war. The Avignon Conference had relegated all the other fronts in western Europe to mere garrison duties with commanders which Tilly could at least trust not to do anything foolish.

The Grand Marshal of Europe instead focused on Wurttemberg; the Duchy nestled between Rhine and Danube. To control this territory would link the two halves of Catholic Europe north of the Rhine. It would also compromise the German Princes who had been propping up the Dutch to this point. Tilly still desired peace, and he hoped a demonstration of force could secure it with the gains he wanted.

To this end a truly cosmopolitan force began to assemble in north-eastern France in the early days of February 1608. Not wanting a repeat of the previous years’ defeats, Tilly had sent solely French troops to hold the lines in the Loire and Meuse valleys. Accordingly he only had around 6,000 French Speaking infantry, but these included the 3,000 elite Companie D’Azure and the last 2,000 French Grenadiers he had trained and were commanded by the ferocious Maquis De Barre. The main bulk of forces were provided by Spain, who had been allegedly promised the spoils of Wurttemberg as payment. The Dukes of Lerma, Escalona, Marqueza and Leganes were all present with over 30,000 Spanish infantry and 5,000 Cavalry commanded by the Maquis of Bedmar.

To add to this core were another 25,000 infantry and 12,000 cavalry from across Wallonia, Savoy, and the Italian states. This contingent had a variety of commanders but Ernst von Mansfeld stood out as leader of 4,000 of his own heavy cavalry, and overall cavalry commander. Charles-Emmanuel of Savoy could not be dissuaded from attending and was given the command of the light cavalry. The infantry was to be commanded by the Italian Counts of Colalto and Roccarainola. By the end of February, this horde of almost 80,000 men, and their 112 guns was ready, and they crossed the Rhine near Mulhouse on the 2nd of March heading along the river bank towards Karlsruhe.

In response, the forces of the Protestant Alliance – the League of Copenhagen – were divided and dispersed. Word had reached them in January of the potential invasion of Wurttemberg, but their armies were spread thinly. In France, the forces of Brittany and Normandy were trying to hold back the French in the west whilst Magnus the Red was trying to pacify the Norman-Picardy hinterland from the Earl of Derby’s bandits. In the Netherlands, William of Oudenberg continued to command the Dutch armies on the Meuse whilst in the east his cousin Albert-Henry prepared for the invasion of Poland. This left the forces of the German Princes to hold the Rhine.

Between them, Franck of Hesse, Otto-Frederick of the Palatinate and Ludwig of Wurttemberg formed the trio of western German leaders and together commanded almost 25,000 infantry and 5,000 cavalry. These forces, however, were scattered and were unable to gather in time to hold back the Catholic horde.

Furthermore Augustus of Bavaria invaded from Ulm a week after the main Catholic force crossed the Rhine with around 14,000 men hoping to catch Duke Ludwig in a pincer movement. From Stuttgart, the Duke of Wurttemberg learned of this twin invasion and decided to flee. He could only muster at most 8,000 men and so he decided to flee north with all haste. His son John-Christoph took a band of loyal men south into the Swabian Alb to resist the invaders. Despite his delaying of Augustus of Bavaria, the main Catholic army under Tilly secured Karlsruhe on the 18th of March and Stuttgart on the 29th.

What followed was two months of subjugation and suppression of Protestantism in Wurttemberg. The Pope authorised a full inquisition, and elevated Franz Count of Baden-Baden to full control of the Duchy. Wurttemberg was stripped from the line of Ludwig but was held in trust by the Catholic Church for the time being. Spring saw Cathedrals restored and Masses celebrated, but it also saw outbreaks of violence as Protestants attempted to resist their lands or properties from being confiscated and given to Catholics.

Meanwhile Duke Ludwig sought aid from across Europe. His neighbours in Hesse and the Palatinate were sympathetic, but could not hope to resist the might of the full Catholic host. Franck of Hesse led a probing force as far as Heidelberg in early May but was turned back by a force three times his number. Further afield, Albert-Henry had defeated a Polish army at the Battle of Leszno, finally pushing a number of Polish nobles, especially in the east, into revolt against their hopeless King. The Duke of Prussia and King of Bohemia had then gone on to press his advantage and had seized Pomerania and Royal Prussia from the Poles, supported by a popular revolt. In the Netherlands, William of Oudenberg was struggling for manpower given the conflicts in Brittany, Normandy-Picardy and Britannia itself. He had perhaps 19,000 men of which only half were real soldiers, but these were needed to hold the line at the Meuse from Bucquoy who was trying to lay siege to Hergotenbosch.

Reluctantly, the Protestant leaders decided to leave Wurttemberg to its fate, hoping to find victories on other fronts. The summer months therefore saw a slow eroding of the Protestant population in the beleaguered Duchy as Tilly and the Catholic Church tightened their grip. What changed the situation was the Wurttemberg Rising. There was no one cause: harsh fines on Protestants, illegal land seizures, and the continued work of John-Christoph’s loyal partisans de-stabilised the territory until by late July a series of risings rocked the central Neckar valley. This rising was ferociously crushed by the Catholic army and John-Christoph was killed, his resistance group practically wiped out. Though a failure, the Wurttemberg Rising shook the Protestant leaders from their reverie, and they planned to invade the Duchy and bring Tilly to battle.

This was ambitious, but between them Albert-Henry, Franck of Hesse and William of Oudenberg were able to gather enough of a force to challenge the 80,000 strong horde, and they had confidence in their own abilities. The army they gathered in Frankfurt that August was eclectic as the one they faced. At least half of the army – 35,000 men – were German speaking and came from Hesse, Wurttemberg, Brandenberg, Pomerania, Saxony, Mecklenberg, Hannover and many other territories. The remaining 35,000 men included Dutch, Danish, Bohemian and even Swedish in their ranks, although 16,000 of these were English or Britannic in origin.

Tilly knew of this force, and it was exactly what he had hoped for. He stationed his main strength at Karlsruhe, with Lerma still clearing up the remains of the rebellion in the rear. The Protestants did not march up the Rhine from Frankfurt, as he had expected, but instead marched inland around the Odenwald and approached up the Neckar instead hoping to gather support as they went. Only George-Friedrich von Hohenlohe joined them with 2,000 men having concealed themselves in the hills. This direction nonetheless caught Tilly off-guard and he pulled back to Heilbronn in order to block the route to Stuttgart. With both armies aware of the other, and spoiling for a fight, battle was joined rather quickly on the 29th of August 1608 at Brackenheim, three miles south of the town. This was the largest battle so far of the war with almost 150,000 soldiers between the two armies.

Brackenheim was a wide meadow bordered to the east by the River Neckar and hills to the west. A small stream, the Zaber, ran from west to east across the field behind which the Catholic army formed up. To the north ran the Neiperghorn; a three mile long ridge which ran south west to north east with a particularly prominent summit directly north of the Catholic line. It was upon this ridge that the Protestants emerged around mid-morning on the 29th, having camped a few miles away the night before.

The Catholic army was facing them to the south. On the eastern, right flank were the Dukes of Lerma and Escalona with 15,000 infantry in two divisions and around 20 of the lighter guns. They were bolstered with the 4,000 Spanish and French Grenadiers resplendent in their whit cross-belts. This flank ran to the steep banks of the Neckar and so only a light cavalry screen under the Marquis of Bedmar was supplied. The centre consisted of the remaining 18,000 French and Spanish plus a few companies of Savoyard and Wallonian infantry to give Tilly, the Dukes of Marqueza and Leganes and the Seigneur de Lamboy a total of 23,000 infantry and 60 or so guns, the bulk of the Catholic artillery. Furthest west, where the Neiperghorn rolled down to the plain, the hamlet of Guglingen was occupied by the 20,000 Italians and Bavarians under Duke Augustus and the Counts of Collalto and Roccarainola. Finally, Tilly had given Ernst von Mansfeld the 11,000 Heavy cavalry which were spread in the rear between Augustus’ and Tilly’s divisions and the remaining 4,000 light cavalry under Charles-Emmanuel and Fritz of Baden to patrol the western battlefield. Tilly had arranged his forces to allow himself maximum control over the formations. He only really trusted Lerma, Colalto and Mansfeld to follow his orders and so these were given crucial locations on the field.

Above this cauldron of Catholics the Protestants deployed for battle. The Dukes of Hesse, Oudenberg and Prussia together decided to lead a battle each, with Albert-Henry confident that he could replicate his success at Zatec, this time on the left wing. The Duke of Pembroke-Prussia’s division comprised of 25,000 infantry including the bulk of the eastern German and Bohemian infantry plus Magnus the Younger and the Scarlet Boars, and Volchek Hamzel’s Canaanite light infantry. To the centre went the Hessian divisions as well as the rest of the Germans and Danes commanded by the Dukes of Hesse, Palatinate, Wurttemberg and Schleswig-Holstein with around 20,000 infantry. Finally the western divisions only had around 12,000 infantry but these included the Orange Free Company under Georg Boleyn and the small Swedish contingent led by Jesper Cruus, Lord of Edeby. However William of Oudenberg, in overall command, did have the whole of the Protestant cavalry; some 14,000 divided into light (commanded by Waldstejna) and heavy (Giovani II Hartson) divisions.

Oudenberg, Hesse and Pembroke-Prussia were commanding their own divisions independently, but they used a unified strategy; whittle down the Catholics from a distance and then close their respective opponents and destroy them through superior training and weaponry. This first part began on schedule as the 80 or so Protestant guns lobbed lighter projectiles almost a mile into the front ranks of the Catholic army. However the cloudless and limpid summer day quickly obscured the Catholic lines with smoke, even more so when their own cannons, maneuvred onto the plain began to fire up the Neiperghorn into the Hessian ranks. Around noon, with the meadow around Brackenheim increasingly obscured by smoke, the Protestants decided to move.

Here the problems began. The central slopes of the Neiperghorn were so steep as to hinder the movement of the League army down them. Oudenberg moved west along the ridgeline towards the Italian divisions around Guglingen, but the descent was still tortuous for Hesse and Prussia’s divisions. Though Albert-Henry was able to move his lighter forces to the east and the easier terrain, this left Franck of Hesse exposed in the centre as he tried to rearrange and reform his German and Danish units. This was when Bedmar and Mansfeld struck through the smoke in a twin-horned charge. This initially made ground in the disorganised units before their commanders steadied the line and the Catholic cavalry retreated.

The initial cavalry charge was merely a delaying tactic and Tilly used it to bring up his own division with Lerma on his right flank. Tilly’s division locked into combat against the reorganised German centre as volleys were traded in the middle of the field. Tilly kept his own small French force out of this first exchange. To his right, Lerma’s forces surged ahead with De Barre leading the charge in his own aggressive style. Albert-Henry saw this charge, and responded accordingly. As he had at Zatec, he sent the Canaanites to the left into the river and around the Catholic rear whilst the Germans fired volleys and the Scarlet Boars prepared to counter-charge. De Barre, however, checked his charged at the last moment and paused to reform the Grenadiers after their ferocious charge, inviting Magnus the Younger to counter-attack directly at him.

This was the moment Tilly had planned for. He had known that Albert-Henry and Young Magnus would plan such a counter charge. De Barre’s men were not in fact the French Grenadiers, though they wore the white cross-belts to draw in the Prussians and English. Instead, they were the elite Comapnie D’Azure and La Compania Saintiago, both elite units of gunners, but dressed as Grenadiers and indistinguishable through the smoke. These men now poured expert fire into Magnus’ company as Tilly charged his flank with his own reserve, the real Grenadiers. These forces tore into the Scarlet Boars, killing Magnus the Younger and opening a gap on Albert-Henry’s right flank. Tilly and Bedmar’s cavalry poured into this gap. The Prussians and Saxons pulled back, their backs to the Neckar in order to hold the line, but the central divisions received severe casualties on their left. They too pulled back under the slopes of the Neiperghorn, where at least they had their own artillery.

To the west, and oblivious to this disaster, William of Oudenberg advanced upon the hamlet of Guglingen. With his customary aggression and skill, the Duke pinned the Italian infantry whilst Waldstejna negotiated the steep slopes to go toe to toe with Charles-Emmanuel. In this rematch of Zatec, it was only going to be Waldstejna who emerged victorious, which he duly did. Unfortunately Mansfeld had since returned and forced Waldstejna to retreat with his heavier cavalry. The Italians slowly gave ground back down the slope, and the English advanced, but at the last second Oudenberg spotted the Bavarian infantry lying to the south ready to charge his flank. Instead he was forced to form tight ranks of soldiers and fire pot-shots from afar which deterred Mansfeld but tied down a third of the Protestant army as their centre came under renewed attack.

By late afternoon, Lerma and De Barre had surrounded and pinned down Albert-Henry’s divisions. The Canaanites were prevented from doing any damage in the rear by Bedmar’s roaming cavalry, Hamzel instead waded the Neckar with his men and began to snipe from the long reeds and islands mid-stream. With the Protestant left contained, their centre was vulnerable, especially the eastern most detachment – the Danes of Duke John of Schleswig Holstein, who were duly attacked by Tilly’s own reserve, killing the Duke in the early stages. With the Danes engaged on the flank, Tilly had his own centre, led by the Duke of Marqueza to generally advance. Some 20,000 men charged across the bloodied fields north of Brackenheim and clattered into the shaken German line, forcing them back to the foot of the steep slope of the Neiperghorn.

On the Guglingen flank, Oudenberg received frantic calls for help from Hesse and Pembroke’s divisions. This gave the veteran commander a difficult choice. To reinforce the centre he could either take the safe route back up the ridge, which would take an hour and give him the same steep hills to negotiate, or he could force the Catholics defending their left, march across the flat meadow and attack Tilly in the rear. Characteristically, Oudenberg chose the more daring and brutal option.

With Waldstejna screening his advance and Giovanni duelling with Mansfeld, Oudenberg placed the Orange Free Company in his rear to slow down and delay the Italians. He then moved north east with the Swedes in the vanguard. With the sun lowering to the east, Tilly saw Oudenberg advancing across Brackenheim to attack him in the rear. The Marshal of Europe made his final gamble. He recalled Mansfeld from the left and had him charge into Franck of Hesse’s right flank. Combined with a renewed charge on the leaderless Danes on the right, Tilly gradually squeezed the life from the Protestant centre. The Protestants guns on the ridge could no longer fire for fear of hitting their own men, and the advantage swung decisively in Tilly’s favour.

Against the River Neckar, Albert-Henry had been forced to defend a smaller and smaller area. With his elite Scarlet Boars obliterated, and the light Canaanites unable to help, his remaining Saxon and Prussian volunteers were struggling against the seasoned Spaniards and French before them. Eventually with about an hour of light left Lerma and De Barre ordered the final charge and the Pembroke pocket was broken. Albert-Henry of Pembroke-Prussia was one of the most daring commanders and politicians in Europe, but even he could not prevail when surrounded and outnumbered, as his forces fled, the King of Bohemia himself was cut down and killed.

Seeing the Black Cross of Prussia fall, the Hessian and Palatinate forces in the centre folded too. Their only retreat was further up the steep slope, but after a day of fighting this was an almost unsurmountable obstacle, and many of the soldiers surrendered where they stood. Oudenberg was in the middle of the field when he saw the banners of Prussia and Hesse lowered and their forces surrender. The battle was lost, no matter Oudenberg’s actions and he ordered his men to flee to the north-west and find narrow gullies up the steep slope of the Neiperghorn. The Swedes and Oudenberg made their escape, screened by Waldstejna and Giovanni, but half of the Orange Free Company were captured and Georg Boleyn killed.

The Battle of Brackenheim was the great victory Tilly had so desperately wanted. The Dukes of Schleswig-Holstein and Pembroke-Prussia were dead – throwing the whole of eastern Europe wide open for the Catholics. The Dukes of Hesse and Wurttemberg were both captured, although Otto-Frederick of the Palatinate had escaped. Of the 70,000 Protestants who had marched into the bloody meadow of Brackenheim, less than 20,000 had marched out again. Around half of the lost 50,000 had been captured, but a good number had been killed or drowned in the Neckar trying to flee. The only silver lining for Oudenberg was that around half of his remaining force were cavalry. The Britannic Marshal returned to Frankfurt a broken man, and sent word to the Netherlands advising King Edvard to sue for peace, not knowing that disaster had also struck there.

To the Catholics, Brackenheim became their Limberg – a battle of such supreme significance that it became a by-word for victory and brilliance. Tilly could not soar any higher; his clever ruse had broken the back of the Protestant army, and his victory had cost him around 15,000 casualties: he still had 65,000 men, and the only high-profile death had been the Duke of Leganes who had perished in the final charge, some say he had been hacked down trying to capture the Duke of Pembroke-Prussia. It was only three days later when Tilly received diplomats from Hesse asking for terms of peace.

Thank you for watching the Generals and Kings channel, and we will see you on the next one.

 

[Meneldur]

Crap crap crap. Albert Henry and Magnus the Younger dead? I was really rooting for the line of Gloucester. I guess John is still alive, and it sounds like Poland is mostly gone as a problem, so John can keep Prussia and maybe manage to get Bohemia too, but this is really bad, this battle was an absolute disaster for the PRotestants. On the other hand, this is the 20 year war and so it's clearly not over... And I found a few causes that can lead to a comeback:

Tilly could not soar any higher

Very true, but if you can't go any higher, you can only fall... Tilly was at the right place now, but will he be so in the future? I wonder.

What followed was two months of subjugation and suppression of Protestantism in Wurttemberg.

This is probably going to happen in any place that the Catholics take over, which will inevitably lead to discontent, and eventually rebellion or support for a Protestant invasion. Eastern Europe might be wide open to the Catholics now, but how open will it be after a year of subjugation?

What Tilly had hoped would be a simple military plan for him became hopelessly caught up in political feuding.

Alliances, it has been said, are at their weakest on the brink of defeat... and on the brink of victory. The Protestant alliance is weak because it's almost defeated, but it can never afford to actually surrender the core of its lands to the Catholics. That's why ultimately I believe they will support each other when push comes to shove. But the Catholics... well, we already saw what they did to Poland. If the Ottomans are stirring in the east, I can't see France or Spain caring about Austria having to fight them. France wants France, not Germany, and so won't care about those areas as much. Spain wants land in Germany, maybe recreating Charles V's empire, but what do they care for Brittany or elsewhere? In the end, Tilly commands an army, not a nation. Every Catholic member of the league will try to grab what he wants now that they think they've won... which will lead to conflict and an eventual sundering. There's 18 more years to this war... I suggest we strap in, but I won't be surprised if all of of the Catholic League's gains besides the initial ones in the Low Countries and the Vendee are wiped out by the end, and the Protestant kingdoms (certainly in the east) will only be more established.

 

[CrepedCrusader]

The Formation of the German Reich, C Clark (2015)

From the ashes of Brackenheim, the German Reich rose. This battle claimed the lives of over 25,000 German-speaking soldiers and Albert-Henry of Pembroke-Prussia, but in the weeks of desperation which followed, the foundations for a united Reich were laid.

The first issue was peace. With Duke Ludwig and Franck imprisoned by Count Tilly, and the strength of the Rhineland truly spent, there was little more which could be done to resist the Catholic advance. Furthermore William of Oudenberg, taking responsibility for Hesse and the Netherlands, sued for peace in the early days of September 1608. News from Hergotenbosch had left him with little room for doubt: Protestant Europe was beaten. A parlay was set for Heidelberg in October.

In the east, however, there was no such end to hostilities. John Duke of Saxony was just 16 when his father’s death at Brackenheim elevated him to the titles of Duke of Pembroke, Earl of Gloucester, Duke of Prussia and King of Bohemia. The fact that very few of these titles were secured or unchallenged was immediately apparent and John left Saxony for Bohemia to meet with Thurn in early autumn. From there he moved north through Protestant-controlled Legnica and into Pomerania where he was received with joy and sympathy by the common people. These early months were crucial to John’s whole reign. His dynamism of energy, his picture of strength and purity of heart won many to his banner where Albert-Henry’s foreign birth had not. John might have been descended from the line of English Kings, but he was a child of Prussia, born to Saxony.

In fact, the early months of chaos after Brackenheim served to strengthen what pan-German identity there was. It was not a moment of national awakening as Drexler and others since have depicted, but it forced accommodations and compromises on a desperate realm. The sight of Brandenbergers marching through Pomerania or Saxon bankers in the Rhineland became everyday where they had once been a rarity. In Pomerania and Prussia, Saxon administrators were partly utilised just as Prussian soldiery guarded the Saxon border with Poland. These were necessary measures to secure the situation, and Duke John made use of people where he had to with little attention to their origins. In peace time, or even victorious war, this mixing of personnel would have likely gotten backs up, but after Brackenheim, it was a necessary evil to be met with Saxon administrators if the alternative was Polish hegemony.

Not that Poland was all that threatening by autumn 1608. The final victory of Albert-Henry at Leszno had sent the Polish realm into anarchy. The nobility, especially in the south and east, rose in revolt after Sigismund had wasted another vast tranche of taxation on failed wars. Chodkiewicz and Zolkiewski stayed with their patron but much of Lublin, Stezyca, Livonia and Lvov rose in rebellion behind Janusz Radziwill, Mikolaj Zebrzydovsky and Aleksander Lizowski. This led to a three-year civil war which ended with the defeat of the rebels but not until the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth had been severely weakened and had large chunks carved from its western and northern borders.

The events of the east were a mere backdrop by the latter half of 1608. Brackenheim had firmly fixed the attention upon the west and when the two sides met at Heidelberg in October, the objective was to bring peace to western Europe. Tilly and Cardinal Borghese led the Catholic delegation with the Duke of Lerma being there at Phillip III’s insistence. The Protestant delegation was led by King Edvard, Otto-Frederick of the Palatinate and William of Oudenberg. Oudenberg may have been English, officially not in the war, but he was recognised as the Protestant League’s best commander and was also Prince of Anhalt-Kothlen into the bargain – he had a legal right to speak for the German Princes.

There was much to discuss at Heidelberg: the future of Wurttemberg, the release of Dukes Ludwig and Franck, the status of Brabant and Vendee and the future of the Low Countries in general. Brackenheim had firmly pulled the Protestants over a barrel. Oudenberg was able to agree that areas of significant Catholic population – Upper Brabant and the Vendee – should pass into Catholic hands in return for recognition of the continued Protestant ownership of other lands. This alone was a huge concession – Duke Henry and King Edvard only agreeing out of exhaustion – but Tilly rejected this out of hand. He wanted the whole of Brabant, Vendee and Wurttemberg.

In the end, William, Edvard and Otto could not ignore the reality of the situation. Tilly was still camped in Wurttemberg with over 50,000 men and they could together muster less than half of that. Hergotenbosch had fallen the week before Brackenheim, thus the Netherlands had lost their last redoubt below the Meuse. Antwerp was still sheepishly part of the Catholic cause. The Rhineland and Hesse lay wide open to attack with Duke Franck imprisoned. To secure him and Duke Ludwig the following arrangement was reached. France would gain the Vendee and the whole of Brabant with Tilly as Duke and overlord of the Duchy. . Baden would be re-united under its Catholic Duke whilst the whole of Wurrtemberg would pass to Duke Lerma who would pay a £6,000 a year fee, to his King in Spain in exchange for ruling the Duchy without paying homage.

In exchange the Protestant nations would receive a five-year truce and the return of Franck and Ludwig. Borghese wanted the latter executed so as not to be a threat to the new Duke, but he accepted banishment to the new world – New Lothian to be precise – in exchange for his freedom. Franck had to pay a ridiculous £500,000 ransom for his own freedom. Thus the Treaty of Heidelberg was agreed and signed on the 16th of November 1608. It brought to a close the first stage of the Twenty Years War. Both sides knew it would not be a permanent peace.

Heidelberg too brought the German Reich closer into being. It moved the balance of power towards the east. Since the Holy Roman Empire collapsed the weight in the German lands had lain along the Rhine and especially in Hesse. The need for a new union had not been felt, Hesse, the Palatinate, Wurttemberg and the other polities were strong enough to defend themselves from the Catholics, especially with Britannic help. The House of Hesse’s close ties to Britannia and the Netherlands only solidified this opinion. Brackenheim, however had proven the fallacy of these ideas. Britannia was not guaranteed to come to their aid, and the Netherlands and German Princes could not together hold back the might of Catholic Europe whilst acting in a piecemeal fashion.

Furthermore Heidelberg and Brackenheim placed the House of Hesse firmly in the debt of the House of Pembroke-Gloucester. Duke John had been too preoccupied securing his eastern frontier to go to Heidelberg, but had sent his mother. Heidelberg had completely ignored the issues of the east at Tilly’s insistence, and so Saxony need not have attended, but John saw his chance. The huge ransom sum for Franck of Hesse played into Saxon hands. Hesse had no hope of coming up with the money, but the Saxon bank – based in London but with branches in Leipzig, Dresden and Frankfurt, and chaired by John’s cousin Richard Magnusson – agreed to front the money, secured by Saxon pledges of repayment. The Saxon Indemnity thus pulled the economic and moral centre of the German states to Saxony. Franck, Duke John’s father in law, now owed Saxony his very freedom.

The subsequent meeting held at Stappelberg Castle in Anhalt that winter was thus pregnant with all of these concerns and considerations. Stappelberg was the German seat of the House of Oudenberg, and Duke William had invited John, Franck of Hesse, Otto-Frederick of the Palatinate and a dozen lesser German nobles. The agenda had one item: how to strengthen Germany against the Catholic threat. The discussion was fierce. Nearly all present were aware of the weakness of the status quo but had no desire to return to a de-centralised and anarchic system like the Holy Roman Empire.

After over a week of fruitless discussion, Saxony made its move. Chancellor Bartolomaus Scultetus suggested an Empire on the Britannic model. An Emperor, of the like of Edward V or Richard IV, could lead and unite the realm in times of war and catastrophe whilst in times of peace, the individual Dukes, Princes and Cities could run their own affairs. The Stappelberg proposal was incredibly vague, and it received a lukewarm reception at best from the assembles notaries. It was obvious who Scultetus was suggesting for the role of Emperor and even despite the Saxon Indemnity, Franck of Hesse was not willing to lash his fate to a teenager.

The negotiations continued for another week with little fruit being born. There were tentative agreements to train and rebuild forces but no hard targets were set. Before the conference dispersed, there was one final part of the story. According to legend, John and Franck met together with William of Oudenberg mediating discussions. A compromise was suggested. There would be an Emperor of Germania – John – but their would be a role similar to that of the Lord Protector who would run day to day matters and dispense justice as well as securing the internal strength of the realm. Franck of Hesse was reputedly offered this position. In short, the German Reich would have a figure-head Emperor around whom the people could rally in times of war whilst the Lord Protector – or Scheidsrichter in German – would be his right hand. The various duchies and counties would manage their own affairs with justice mediated by the Scheidrichter and their external defence marshalled by the Kaiser.

Officially, the Stappelberg Conference yielded meagre results. In reality that frozen Schloss in the depths of winter saw the seeds of the German Reich planted. The various Princes and rulers returned home to celebrate Christmas. In their wake followed subtle propaganda of the like which Luther had used to change Europe a century before. This time these writings suggested political reform. Slowly, throughout the next two years, these ideas would grow into the Reich.

Of Madness and Piety: Europe 1597-1627, A Thompson (2009)

The Summer of 1608 was quiet in Brittany. Antoine de Gramont and Gaston de Jeanin between them had 15,000 men to hold the Loire and Anjou, a similar number to that which Duke Henry of Brittany and Duke Arthur of Normandy had to oppose them. There was therefore little change or even movement along the border. Vendee had been lost, and so quickly as to lay bare the fragility of holding it once more. Quietly, Brittany wrote off the south and turned their eyes to the west.

Though separated by miles of ocean, Brittany and Bradbury had many links. French was a commonly spoken language, and the Calvinist brand of Protestantism was strong in both regions. Furthermore, those Huguenots which had not sailed for the New World, or Britannia, had settled in Brittany. Accordingly in the dark days of the previous summer, heralds had been sent to New Rochelle, Conde and Rohan [OTL Savannah, Myrtle Beach and Washington DC] to recruit Huguenot volunteers for the defence of Brittany. Throughout 1608 over 7,000 men arrived in Nantes and St. Nazaire to serve the Protestant cause.

Like in 1580, most of these Huguenot were second sons or fortune seekers and were poorly equipped and trained, if they were at all. There was one exception to this: Louis Prince of Conde. Grandson of the man who had led the Huguenot across the Atlantic, Louis was 30 years old when he stepped onto his ancestral homeland. The social scene of Bradbury had become too small and dull for him, and he longed for a return to Europe. Louis had commanded his father’s household guard, and had led a number of raids against the Creek and Gaels, but he was inexperienced in a full-scale battle.

It was a cruel irony then, that within a month of Louis’ arrival the Battle of Brackenheim was lost and the war in the west ended. Louis was said to be furious as most of the Huguenot returned home after a pointless trip. He had sought adventure and had been found wanting. An offer to join the retinue of Duke John in Saxony was rudely rebuffed – Louis wanted culture and high society, not to freeze to death in some Polish hell-hole. On Christmas Eve, Louis was introduced as a guest of honour in the court of King Henry the Good of France. He had pledged his service to the French King in exchange for a pardon, and had converted to Catholicism. To the Protestant cause this met surprisingly little response. Louis was unknown and untested, if some Huguenot Prince should want to betray his family and cause, then who was to argue? Awarded some land in Vendee, and given a place amongst Tilly’s officers, only time would tell of the gravity of this move.

.............


Though the action in 1608 centred on Wurttemberg, the Netherlands were not completely overlooked. Tilly had left the Count of Bucquoy with 25,000 soldiers – mostly French – with the instruction to hold the Meuse and prevent the Dutch from invading Brabant. Bucquoy was not the sort of man to sit on the defensive and he lay siege to Hergotenbosch at the end of April. The town was small, but was the final Protestant redoubt below the great River Meuse. Accordingly it had been strengthened with a pair of new gun emplacements and a further reinforcement to bring the garrison to a maximum of 7,000.

A battle of wills enfolded. William of Oudenberg, before his departure for Brackenheim, tried to harass Bucquoy but was unfortunately lacking in cavalry. Instead the best he could do was to lead night time raids across the Meuse into Bucquoy’s siege lines. After one such raid in June, Bucquoy counter-charged over the river on horseback and destroyed the Protestant staging posts on Kirkdriel island leaving Oudenberg to retreat over the Waal River further north in boats and giving Bucquoy more breathing room.

The siege continued into July and August. When Oudenberg was inevitably drawn to Wurttemberg, Bucquoy saw his chance. A breach had already been made into the town walls, and Bucquoy loudly and visibly prepared for an assault. On the night of the 26th of August this began as burning pitch was thrown into the streets of Hergotenbosch and the French infantry stormed the walls. Concurrently, King Edvard crossed the Meuse and launched a desperate charge at Bucquoy’s siege lines. This had been a trap, and two thirds of Bucquoy’s force lay waiting in the ditches facing east into the Dutch line of approach.

The long months of siege had made Bucquoy impatient, and he sought a way to bring the Dutch to battle without disobeying his orders and bringing down the wrath of the embedded Bishop Jean of Liege. His false storming of Hergotenbosch was the fruit of this idle musing. Bucquoy knew that Edvard was desperate to protect his legacy and would be rash without Oudenberg to hold him back.

In the early hours of the 27th of August, the Dutch force of 8,000 infantry and 2,000 cavalry was caught in the open east of Hergotenbosch. Massed ranks of infantry engaged from the west whilst Bucquoy personally led his cavalry behind the column to the east. The result was a bloody rout. Realising their encirclement, Edvard ordered the retreat but desperate men were forced to ditch their arms and armour and swim the Meuse. The Dutch king was almost killed in the melee but was able to escape. Unfortunately, in his moment of triumph Bucquoy’s cavalry was mistaken for that of his opponent in the dark and he was killed by a French musket ball which struck him in the neck.

Bucquoy’s death was the only dark note as the sun rose on the 27th. Seeing their King flee and over 9,000 of his men killed or taken captive, the garrison of Hergotenbosch surrendered. The Catholics had now captured every town south of the Meuse and Brabant was entirely in their hands. When news arrived to King Edvard at Nijmegen a few days later, telling of the defeat at Brackenheim, his only option was to go to Heidelberg cap in hand and ask for peace.

….

1608 saw the end of the war in Europe west of the Rhine for the time being. France, and to a lesser extent Spain, had regained some lost territory but most importantly they had regained their pride and confidence after a century of defeat. Tilly was overcome with rewards and support as he returned to Brabant to rebuild the Duchy for Catholicism. Only the east was left in limbo. John of Saxony had picked up his father’s mantle and seemed ready to hold onto Bohemia and take the war to Poland. Only the following year would tell whether this were possible.

 

[Meneldur]

To the Protestant cause this met surprisingly little response. Louis was unknown and untested, if some Huguenot Prince should want to betray his family and cause, then who was to argue?

...This can't be the Great Conde, on one hand, so maybe this is fine? On the other, maybe this is the alternate timeline version of him, born much earlier? Very odd, in any case. Honestly, If I was Tilly, I'd train him up, then send him to the New World to see what he can wrest away from the Britannic Empire there.

Well, 5 years (or maybe less) to prepare for more war. Honestly, on the Protestant side, they really need that. Magnus to come up with more tech and tactics to deal with the Catholics. Brittany, Oudenburg, the Netherlands and the Reich to train up companies of men. John to build the Reich. England to hopefully end the Civil War and be able to help. The Catholics... well, Louis and Tilly got what they wanted mostly, and I doubt they care about the Reich that much. There's nothing really keeping them to the treaty, obviously, but it's a bad look if they break it without cause and if they ever lose could mean no chance of a fair treaty, so I think the French won't break it unless they really have to.
Of course the Spanish and the German Catholics are going to try and run wild at the Reich, but without French support and Tilly's genius, I don't think they'll be that successful. John might be young and untried, but he's got a lot of land and men now, relatively loyal and high morale people, and good leaders/administrators for his regions - his mother for Prussia, Thurn for Bohemia, etc. He also doesn't really have any immediate threats, and allies that can probably help.
I think Sweden is in a good position too - Gustavus Adoplhus should be 14, and he was 16 when he became king OTL. With no inherited war with Denmark, Russia being very weak and likely on his side, he can probably take parts of Poland too, and in 5 years (if there's that much time) fully enter the wider war. Honestly, I see now way back for Poland.

Another interesting thought is what the military reforms are doing for Spain and France's civilian population. With that many citizens now trained for war, with arms and experience, might we get to see more democratization, something like England? If another Fronde starts up, it'll take a lot more effort to put it down. And obviously giving more power and representation in the Estates General is an option (for France, say), it could also be a liability in the future - such a body might support a war against Normandy or Brittany, but see no reason to send troops to help the Spanish fight the Reich.

I can't wait to see how these five years (or less~) pass!