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

20 years of the TL to go, lots could happen, how much detail would you like?


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Huh, this is actually important, because it means that if Spain wants to send soldiers to fight the 20 Years War in Germany, they can't ship them to Dalmatia or maybe even Italy. Especially if the Brittanic Empire wises up and sends its own fleet to take care of the Western Mediterranean. God, to have a Nelson in command of the Navy at this time... but wait. What about the Dutch Navy? Can it possibly do things like this? They apparently manged to beat the Portuguese... for that matter, does Edvard have a brother called Maurice, or is Edvard himself Maurice?
No this Edvard is Maurice as much as we would know him, but totally different parentage on his mother's side means he is very different. For now he is capable but needs time to get a handle on things. The Dutch could do that, but a lot of manpower has gone into the Navy so they don't really have an army to transport, also the Med isn't that interesting for them at the mo.
Honestly, the more I think about the war, the more I realize how bad a position the Catholics are in in Eastern Europe. In Western Europe, they're in a (relatively) great position - take a strong French and Spanish army and destroy Brittany, and then move on to Normandy and Amiens. After that, start hitting the Netherlands. I doubt Richard will get much help from any of the other European allies for the fighting in Normandy and Amiens. But in Eastern Europe... there's no HRE, so no German Prince owes anything to the Catholics. Maximilian has Hungary and Austria, but just lost Bohemia, and is facing a two if not three front war - he needs to deal with Saxony, he needs to deal with the Bocksai uprising, the Ottomans are alert for any weakness. He has Poland on his side, perhaps, but Poland has the same problems - Prussia in the middle, Hesse in the West, Sweden to the North. And they won't get any allies - the Ottomans are their enemies, I doubt Russia will ally with them (and in any case are probably too weak, given the OTL Time of Troubles), the Cossacks wouldn't either, Sweden and Denmark are Protestant, troops from Italy probably won't be enough, and troops from France and Spain will first have to take care of the Britannic enclaves in France, then fight through the Netherlands and the Western Germans states. We already know the Reich will be formed thanks to Albert Henry and Franck (I'm pretty sure John will be the first ruler of it), and it will come about as a consequence of the 20 Years War, at the end of which what was left of the HRE (Austria-Hungary) will be checked, and Poland might very well be partitioned.
Very true, I see the war going that way; Catholics strong in the West and struggling in the east. Maximillian is still to prove himself as a commander. Don't know if you noticed that the Catholics also dont have Vallenstein (he stayed Protestant) and Pappenheim is 12 at the start of the war. So Tilly and Bocquoy and the Spanish lads are about it. So it depends on what the endgame for the Catholics are. If it were left to the French and Spanish probably retake Brittany, Normandy etc and then go Netherlands. But the Pope has a say, and Cardinal Borghese too, so there is a more united strategy than before. Also the east is not a total right-off yet. Sweden are still getting their house in order, Russia is totally out of it, and Denmark have been sketchy. Sure the Bohemia-Saxon-Prussian axis looks dodgy for Poland but these are very new and dispersed acquisitions which are vulnerable on their own. In short the fat lady is not even warming up the vocals yet. I am intruiged to see how Tilly gets on. I think he was an awesome commander who was poorly led OTL, ITTL he is calling the shots and Henri the Good trusts him so I think he may be quite the threat. In short, very tasty!
 
1606: The Brabant Campaign
1606-1611 Binding and Loosing

Generals and Kings Youtube Channel: ‘Battles of Antwerp and Tommel’

Welcome to the Generals and Kings Channel, and our ongoing series on the Twenty Years War. Europe, May 1606: the continent stood on the brink. The Battle of Rip Mountain and the ascension of Albert-Henry of Pembroke-Prussia to the Bohemian throne had once again declared open hostilities in Europe. However the conflict may have been contained to the east if it were not for Jean Tserclaes, Count Tilly. The French general had for years planned his return to his homeland of Brabant at the head of a Catholic army but the Britannic sentinels had made this an impossible dream. Yet after Rip Mountain, and the Duke of Oudenberg was recalled to London to explain his actions to his Emperor, Tilly saw his chance.

The Count went before Henry IV, King of France and used Rip Mountain as justification for war. If the Protestants were not going to abide by their spheres of influence, then the Catholic Holy League would be mad to allow them to go unpunished. France declared war on the Kingdom of the Netherlands on the 31st of May and Spain joined them a week later. Even before the official declaration, Tilly had planned well. Since the middle of winter, Charles Bonaventure, Count of Bucquoy had been in Brussels with 3000 French soldiers disguised as Walloons to ferment rebellion. This had drawn out the Dutch who lost their King William II to dysentery in the subsequent siege and were forced to pull back.

Brabant was still in rebellion, but Richard II’s inaction allowed Tilly to set his sights even higher. On the 4th of June Tilly himself crossed into Brabant with 20,000 French soldiers behind him and the Seigneur de Villeroy raising the Dixiem Levee en Masse back in France. Within a week Brussels had been joined by Mons, Namur and Liege in rebellion against the Dutch King. The Low Countries had been badly served by the French and Spanish Kings in the Low Countries War some 30 years previously, having been abandoned to their fate once their tactical use was spent. Now though, Tilly’s presence at the head of the army, not to mention the support of Bishop Jean Richardot of Liege, encouraged a general rising. Tilly marched into Brussels on the 8th of June to a hero’s welcome.

In the Netherlands, King Edvard I responded to this news with grim determination. He may have been King for only a few months but was almost 50 and had spent a lifetime at court and on the battlefield. The Dutch King had been desperately trying to cajole the stadtholders and burghers into supporting a renewed campaign into Brabant with little success. The French declaration of war and Tilly’s invasion gave Edvard the justification he needed to gather an army. Unfortunately, the majority of the Dutch strength lay at sea, and without Britannic help they were exposed on the battlefield.

The Netherlands only had around 15,000 men to hand and these included around 5,000 Englishmen under Johan of Bruges and the Orange Free Company. Franck of Hesse, though dithering over a final decision on what to do, sent a further 2,000 men and the states of Westphalia and Hannover together provided another 3,000 mercenaries. By mid-June Edvard thus had 20,000 men to throw into the fray but they were not a united force, and he was still gathering men.

Tilly had known this, and had already begun a swift advance north towards Antwerp, leaving Bucquoy to guard his rear. Tilly arranged his army around the city walls and began negotiating with the Burghers to surrender the city. Antwerp had always been Catholic, and even after 30 years under Dutch control had remained so. More importantly Antwerp was an all important harbour on the channel. France had lost all ports north of La Rochelle through the last century of war and Antwerp would be a crucial coup for them. Therefore Tilly chose the diplomatic route whilst his army dug emplacements at Schoten east of the city facing north and east.

King Edvard had to move, and was heartened by the news that Tilly seemed to only have 20,000 men himself. Gathering his own force of 20,000, Edvard crossed the Meuse and marched for Antwerp. If he could reach the city before they capitulated he could still maintain his realms’ integrity. The Dutch reached Hoogstraten on the 29th of June a dozen miles from Antwerp and immediately moved to the attack. Edvard’s army may have been cobbled together, but it did not lack for firepower, the majority of the soldiers were armed with Snelbus or Dutch copies. Nor did it lack experienced commanders. Edvard himself was no slouch but his right wing was commanded by the veteran commander Anthony Schetz, Baron Grobbedonk, his centre – including the Germans – by Phillip de Hohenloe-Neuenstein and his left, the Orange Free Company, by Johan of Bruges, brother to the Earl of Oudenberg. Where Schetz was cautious, Johan was champing at the bit and Phillip in the centre was just trying to forge a coherent command from his units. Nonetheless Edvard trusted them to break the French line and was in reserve with a further 2,000 himself

The Dutch army’s hasty preparations meant that they were light on heavy cannon and heavy cavalry but they had brought around 3,000 light cavalry commanded by Giovanni II Hartson in the manner of his great grandfather; fast fierce and brutal. Accordingly, the Dutch army drew up in double lines on the morning of the 30th of June in sight of the French earthworks east of Antwerp. These earthworks would have prevented a cavalry charge at any rate and so Edvard planned to mount a general advance with infantry hoping to sweep the French from the field, prove his worth to the citizens of Antwerp and gain their help with a flank attack from the city itself.

Count Tilly had chosen his defensive positions well. The flat land around Antwerp offered few vantage points but he had found a shallow rise running south east from the village of Schoten and had drawn his men up along this more or less parallel to the modern Nord Canal which now stands on this spot. Tilly gave himself the left flank and fortified Schoten itself. The central redoubts, studded with light cannon built on the Brittanic model, Tilly gave to the Duc de Lesdiguières, Francois de Bonne who had been his mentor earlier in life. Finally Tilly took a risk on his right; lacking in cavalry as the Dutch were, Tilly treated his right flank like his cavalry wing and gave it to his heavy Grenadier companies under the command of the relatively inexperienced but headstrong Henri de Chivre, Marquis de Barre. Tilly admired the young man’s fearlessness and ferocity in the face of enemy fire and trusted him to make his own decisions of when to move.

Given their lack of cannon, the Protestants moved first. The open and marshy ground meant that they were dangerously exposed to de Bonne’s cannon in the centre and the Westphalian infantry suffered casualties before they could close. Fired up for battle, the Orange Free Company saw this difficulty and moved to their right as they charged catching the far eastern end of the French earthworks unexpectedly in the flank. This brave move by Johan of Bruges allowed for the Dutch centre to close and engage at point-blank range. Tilly may have dug earthworks and trained his men, but the French soldiers were outmatched by their Protestant opponents and soon de Bonne’s men began to buckle.

Henri de Chivre saw his chance and charged left into the Orange Free Company. Johan of Bruges had miscalculated, he had taken the French right flank for auxiliary forces, having never encountered Grenadiers in the field before. The white-crossed straps of the Grenadiers may have made them appear to be Engineers, but the English mercenaries soon discovered that they were anything but. Tilly’s new Grenadier tactics, using Grenades and hand to hand weapons such as axes, worked wonders on the English rear and soon they began to break just as the French centre had. On the French left, Tilly continued to hold Schoten; he had placed his best marksmen and a further five cannon in the village and they turned the streets into rivers of blood as Anthony Schetz’s men were ground down and the Baron himself was killed in the hail of fire.

For all of this time Giovanni II Hartson had prowled the battlefield with his light cavalry, Schragbus primed and ready, but had been unable to spot the reported French Cavalry. Late in the afternoon Johan of Bruges signalled to his cousin for aid and Hartson took his men into close quarters, blowing holes in the Grenadiers of the French Right. These caused grievous wounds, but the short range of the weapon brought Giovanni’s cavalry into Grenade range which badly unsettled the horses and caused some to bolt.

With the Protestant cavalry retreating in disarray, Bishop Jean Richardot made his move. The 36-year old Bishop had been part of Tilly’s delegation in Antwerp and had managed to gather around 500 men of the city, mostly the poor and desperate, but including some poorer artisans sons and the like, into something resembling a fighting force. These men did not officially represent the City government, still undecided, but Bishop Richardot led them out of the city gates on horseback and into the flank of Anthony’ Schetz’s force.

King Edvard was at this point taking his reserve over the bodies of their comrades into the French earthworks hoping to break the line once and for all when he saw the Lion and Griffin banner of the city sally from the gates. For a moment it must have seemed that the city had sided with him, only to have the Antwerpian forces attack his own army. This tiny force scored a huge morale victory as Schetz’s demoralised army cracked and ran with Tilly in pursuit. Fearing the city lost, Edvard ordered the general retreat.

The Battle of Antwerp was a relatively even affair. The Protestant army lost around 7,000 men, mostly to Schetz’s force though the Free Company also took losses on the left. Tilly’s army lost 6000 general infantry and a further 500 Grenadiers from an original count of 3000. Crucially, however, the battle turned into an overwhelming French victory when the city of Antwerp capitulated. Their hand may have been forced by Richardot’s group of vagabonds, but with their nominal King in retreat, the Burghers of Antwerp had little alternative and signed an alliance with Henry IV 'the Good', King of France. With a protestant army beaten for the first time in a generation, and Antwerp in Catholic hands, the rest of Wallonia arose in favour of the Catholic Holy League.

The Summer’s campaign was far from over and Bucquoy arrived in Antwerp in mid-July with another 30,000 French troops. These were from Tilly’s conscripted army, but they still swung the balance of power firmly in Tilly’s favour. Secondly Luxembourg also declared for Tilly and the Holy League with Ernst von Mansfeld pledging 4,000 infantry and 2,000 much-needed cavalry to the cause. Tilly could now field 50,000 men, with more on the way. Never being one to relinquish the initiative, the French commander launched an audacious invasion of the northern half of Brabant centred on the City of Turnhout.

The Battle of Antwerp may have been a crushing morale blow for the Netherlands, but it had not cost them greatly in terms of manpower. King Edvard retreated back towards Hertogenbosch to gather reinforcements which arrived in their plenty. The Dukes William of Guelders and William of Julich-Cleves-Berg and Richard of East Frisia straggled over the Waal and Meuse Rivers throughout July with their forces and Duke Franck of Hesse sent his brother Paul with a few regiments having decided to declare war on France himself. The Dutch contingents numbered around 25,000 men but were mostly relatively inexperienced soldiers, though well-equipped. The Hessians, by contrast, were only 4,000 men but Franck had dispatched some of his finest soldiers of the Dorsten College. These Dorstensoldaten added a much needed kernel of strength to the disparate Protestant army.

King Edvard nonetheless still had two problems. The first was command; his 42,000 men strong army had a number of capable commanders; himself, Johan of Bruges, Giovanni II Hartson, Phillip of Neuenstein, William of Guelders, Richard of East Frisia, William of Cleves and Paul of Hesse, but none of these 8 men really stood out as having the necessary experience or skills to command a disparate and sprawling army. Anthony Schetz had been that man, but his death at Antwerp had left a void of command no one person could easily fill. King Edvard himself took command, though his meetings were often long and fractious.

The second Dutch problem was one of tactics. From Hergotenbosch King Edvard knew that Tilly was marching north east from Antwerp towards Turnhout. He also knew that Tilly had 50,000 men and could go anywhere south of the Meuse: Breda, Rosendaal, Eindhoven, all were open to him. Unsurprisingly Johan of Bruges advocated for an aggressive approach, closing with Tilly and destroying him before he could prepare the ground as he had at Antwerp. The Dukes of Cleves and Guelders, uncertain of the viability of their forces suggested their own defensive positions around Hergotenbosch and Eindhoven to hold Tilly in the south and west of the Netherlands.

By the 23rd of July, Tilly had reached Turnhout and placed the Protestant town under siege. This forced Edvard’s hand and he marched on the city in force. Unbeknownst to the Dutch, Tilly had planned this. The Catholic guns; a dozen light pieces and 5 heavy guns, had not even been unlimbered outside Turnhout, and siege works had only been haphazardly begun. Instead, Tilly had hoped to catch the Dutch in the field and destroy them. Therefore he immediately broke off the siege and marched north to where King Edvard had chosen to give battle outside the village of Tommel.

Today Tommel stands on the border of the Netherlands and Wallonia, the twin towns of Baarle Hertog and Baarle Nassau speaking to the complex history and borders in this part of the world. To Edvard, Tommel represented an adequate place to hold Tilly’s advance and to break his army. Modern forestry has changed the face of the battlefield but in 1606 the fields south west of Tommel were open and flat, rising gently to the village itself on a low ridgeline. To the western end of this ridgeline the Protestant line was anchored by the Heimolen Forest into which Edvard placed his Britannic contingent; 3,000 Orange Free Company infantry under Johan of Bruges, 6 light cannon and 2,000 light cavalry again commanded by Giovanni II Hartson.

From Heimolen across to the hamlet of Schaluinen Edvard arranged his Dutch infantry, all 30,000 of them. Taking the Dukes Williams’ concern over the quality of these men, Edvard had broken them into two deep lines of infantry. Each line could stand and fire in volleys and in this way Edvard hoped to bring up the second line to support the first when the time was right in order to destroy the French in withering fire. To this he added his dozen cannon interspersed between the ranks to increase the damage at long range. In order to further bolster the line he broke it into four sections and gave command to William of Guelders, Phillip of Neuenstein, William of Cleves and himself in order to allow for closer control. To the Protestant left Edvard sent his trump cards: Schaluinen became the billet of the Dorstensoldaten and Paul of Hesse whilst Richard of East Frisia commanded the 2,000 heavy cavalry which Edvard had been able to scrape together.

When Tilly arrived, he saw Edvard’s depositions and had no intention of playing ball. The obvious decision would be to advance over the flat open ground in front of the Protestant positions and close on them before the hail of gunfire tore the French army to shreds. Tilly did not do that. The French field marshal instead divided his combined forces into two unequal halves. The 30,000 less-experienced conscripts he placed on the left flank under Francois de Bonne who had held the line so well at Antwerp. Here at Tommel de Bonne’s job was again to fix the Protestant right flank and main line whilst the Marquis de Barre, again in command of the Grenadier contingents and a further 10,000 men on the right crushed the Protestant left. In support, de Barre had the Count of Bucquoy and Ernst von Mansfeld further to his right. Mansfeld had the heavy Catholic Cavalry and Bucquoy controlled the 3,000 or so light cavalry and a further 2,000 Luxembourg infantry as a rapid reserve to exploit any gaps with de Barre created. Tilly remained in the centre behind Francois be Bonne’s conscripts with the 12 light cannon, again as a rapid reaction force, the heavy cannon had been left with the baggage train.

The Battle of Tommel began on the morning of the 28th of July as a thin morning mist cleared from the battlefield. The sight which met the Protestant army was a confusing one; Tilly’s army was advancing obliquely and out of line to their own position. Assuming this was a mere mistake brought about by the mist Edvard reordered his right flank moving up Neuenstein and Guelders’ divisions and displacing the Orange Free Company from their forest positions to stand in open country. This was exactly Tilly’s plan, and he ordered his extreme left under Guilliame II de Lamboy – a Walloon declared for his cause – to move up his own cannon and disrupt the Dutch movements. Whilst this was going on the Marquis de Barre had closed the distance to the hamlet of Schaluinen on the right. De Barre had not known that the crack Hessian troops were holding the village until this moment and he immediately swung left to avoid the strong point. Francois de Bonne, in command of the French left now ordered a general advance and for around an hour his forces exchanged volleys with their Dutch counterparts across the open fields.

Around the flanks, Giovanni II led a probing attack against de Lamboy’s flank, but was repulsed by disciplined fire before he could get within Schragbus range. At the opposite flank Mansfeld and Richard of East Frisia’s heavy cavalry drove into each other hoping to annihilate their opponents. Bucquoy committed his own cavalry reserve to this fray and the balance immediately swung towards the Catholics. In the centre, the Marquis de Barre had finally reached a decision. Completely ignoring the entrenched Hessians in the village, he launched his entire command at the Dutch line just to the west of it. This was the Duke of Cleves division, and some of the greenest soldiers in the Dutch army. De Barre unleashed his and Tilly’s new tactic: The Grenadier Column. Infantry columns were not new, Sigismund III had attempted one at Nybro, but Tilly and de Barre had thrown in the Grenadiers as a hardened point supported by mobile artillery.

Tilly was able to bring up his guns to unnerve Cleves’ infantry just as de Barre’s men changed from line to column. The French Grenadiers, in the centre of the line, ran into a trot and the conscripts to their flanks followed behind to create a column. Thus 12,000 angry Frenchmen, with the Grenadiers as a hardened spear-point crashed into the inexperienced Dutch line. The first line was entirely broken and fell back into the second. Seeing the danger, Paul of Hesse sent 3,000 of his own men to fire into the middle of the French column and King Edvard turned his own light cannon on the same spot. Bucquoy’s reserve may have plugged the gap, but he was engaged in the cavalry duel and the opportunity was lost.

With the column’s momentum broken, the Grenadiers were forced to retreat back to their own lines under the Hessian gunfire. The column charge may have failed to break Cleves’ line entirely but he had suffered around 45% casualties and was seriously weakened. However the battle had allowed Mansfeld and Bucquoy to drive off the Frisian cavalry exposing the Protestant’s flank around Schaluinen even more.

Meanwhile, on the left flank, a co-ordianted attack by the Orange Free Company and Giovanni’s cavalry had encircled and destroyed de Lamboy’s division killing the Wallonian exile in the process. His 16 year-old son, Guilliame III would survive to torment the Protestants another day.

Around noon, Tilly pulled his own line back and called in his commanders to decide on their next course of action. King Edvard did the same, but his conference was a good deal less unified. The morning had only confirmed the Duke of Cleves fears, and he wanted to retreat from the field. A shouting match ensued in which Johan of Bruges called the Duke out for cowardice. Edvard, quickly losing control, relieved Cleves of command and had Johan take over the beleaguered Dutch left with around 300 Britannic mercenaries to steady the line. This left the Orange Free Company under the command of Sir Georg Boleyn, son of the Lord of Cambrai. This ill-tempered debate had robbed the Protestants of any chance to change tactics, and the French army began to advance once more causing the commanders to scurry back to their positions.

For his part, Jean Tserclaes, Count Tilly, did not need a debate to decide his next moves; he gave his orders and his army obeyed him. De Bonne again had command of the left and centre, though he had placed the Duc de la Force in the deceased de Lamboy’s position to bolster the left and had also given him von Mansfeld’s Cavalry to hold off Giovanni. To the right Bucquoy and de Barre had their orders and they implemented them to a tee.

Again De Barre sent his Grenadiers towards the Protestant left and what had been Cleves’ division, with Tilly’s cannon to his left and Bucquoy to his right in reserve. However, just outside of Snelbus range, De Barre halted his charge and turned his entire force of 8,000 men to the right to face the Hessian positions in Schaluinen. With the conscripts firing volleys, Tilly firing over their heads, and the Grenadiers now charging into the more lightly defended western edge of the village, Paul of Hesse was caught completely off guard. Concurrently, Bucquoy’s infantry arrived from the south to fix the defenders whilst his cavalry swept around the east and north to encircle the strongpoint.

In the tight confines of the village, Tilly’s new weapons and tactics paid dividends. The use of Grenades and hand to hand weapons prevented the elite Dorstensoldaten from forming infantry lines of fire and allowed them to be picked off piecemeal. As Paul of Hesse’s command was hacked apart his call for aid was answered by Johan of Bruges. Bruges had the Dutch conscripts engage their French counterparts and silence their flanking fire whilst he took his own 300 men from the Orange Company into Schaluinen to try and salvage the situation.

As the battle hung in the balance on the right flank, the left was grinding into stalemate. The Duc de la Force continued to fix Georg Boleyn’s infantry while von Mansfeld dealt with Giovanni’s cavalry. Mansfeld knew he need to close to defeat Giovanni, which his heavier cavalry could not do. Instead he settled for drawing Giovanni away from the battlefield which allowed la Force to close on the remaining infantry with impunity.

By early evening the battle was balanced on a knife-edge, with both lines of infantry locked in a bloody tussle. Edvard had long ago committed his second line to the fray but the French conscripts were proving more resilient than he had believed possible and de Bonne’s competent command kept them in the fight. Meanwhile, Tilly sensed his opportunity. The over-stressed and leaderless remains of Cleves’ command were successfully holding the 5,000 conscripts of De Barre’s column, but they were vulnerable after their commander had run off into the fire of Schaluinen. Tilly turned his cannon on them, and commanded de Bonne’s right division, under the command of Guilliame III de Lamboy, to charge into the leaderless Dutch flank. The young man, eager to avenge his father, did just this, and with Tilly’s support, broke this wing entirely.

King Edvard’s own division, the next one in line, saw this but were themselves engaged and could do little to stem the tide. With Giovanni off chasing Mansfeld, Johan of Bruges and Paul of Hesse in the village, and the rest of the line in combat, there was no-one left to commit to the hole in his line. Accordingly, Edvard ordered that his infantry disengage and retreat, sending frantic orders for Giovanni and the remnants of the Frisians to cover him. By now Schaluinen had been entirely surrounded, and the most experienced elements of the Protestant army were left trapped inside, and were being slowly strangled by Bucquoy and de Barre. Edvard had no choice but to leave them to their fate. With darkness looming, and their army in retreat, the Protestant forces in the village finally surrendered.

Paul of Hesse was taken into custody but Johan of Bruges would die of his wounds within two days of the battle. If the Battle of Antwerp had been a setback for the Protestant cause, then the Battle of Tommel had been a complete disaster. King Edvard had lost 19,000 men from his army, including most of his cavalry and experienced infantry as well as three of his best commanders; one dead, one captured, and one in disgrace. The Dutch King left garrisons in Maastricht, Eindhoven and Hertogenbosch before withdrawing all the way back to Utrecht with only 15,000 men.

In contrast, for Tilly, Tommel had been the vindication of all of his efforts. It had proven the value of the Dixiem system of conscription, the power of Grenadiers and column tactics, but most of all the Brabant Campaign had given hope to the entirety of Catholic Europe. Antwerp had joined their cause, the whole of the Netherlands below the Waal, save a few cities, had been captured, and the Protestant armies had been forced into retreat. Tommel had cost Tilly 9,000 men, but this still left him with over 40,000 men with yet more on the way from France, Spain, Portugal, Savoy and the Italian cities. The battle had also confirmed the positions of a number of commanders. Henri IV made Tilly Duke of Brabant for his efforts and the Marquis De Barre became Duc de Liege. The young Gulliame III de Lamboy had avenged his father and regained his ancestral territory near Liege itself as well as the title Seigneur de Lamboy. Most of all Tilly had become the undisputed Catholic Marshall; it had been his plan and tactics which had regained Brabant for the Holy See, and there were none now in Christendom, save the Pope himself, who could argue with him.

Thanks for watching the Generals and Kings channel and we will catch you again on the next one.
 
Ooooof, that sucks for the Protestants. I can't see how they get back from this without Britannic support, which I highly doubt will be coming. Eastern Europe probably has its own problems. So... seems like the Dutch have lost Wallonia for good. The question is, can Edvard hold? I think with enough luck and good troops, he can. The real question is how many Grenadiers Tilly has left. It seems clear that those are the strongest force he has, and from 3000, I doubt more then 1500 are left given the way they were fighting... Another question is whether Tilly keeps his army together. He might very well be tempted to split it given he could outnumber the Dutch... but I feel like that might be a mistake, since his commanders all have flaws (too cautious, too headstrong, too young) and probably don't have his tactical and strategic grasp of a campaign and battlefield.

Also, what the heck is the Dutch fleet doing that it allowed 30,000 troops to arrive in Antwerp, apparently all the way from La Rochelle? How the hell does that happen? For that matter, has the Britannic fleet totally abandoned the Channel? That was an unprecedented blunder, which probably cost them this campaign. If the majority of Dutch strength lies at sea, why the hell aren't they using it? They might have lost this, but I'd be raiding the coast of France in retaliation and in the hope of drawing away forces (since they probably have nothing to defend themselves if they sent 50,000 troops into the Benelux). For that matter, Brittany might be part of the Brittanic Empire but it has autonomy... maybe the Duke of Brittany could be persuaded to launch raids on France too? Obviously the other Britannic possessions on the continent won't be doing anything until the Duke of Oudenburg returns, which will probably not happen... unless he escapes 'house arrest' and decides to ignore Richard II completely.
 
Ooooof, that sucks for the Protestants. I can't see how they get back from this without Britannic support, which I highly doubt will be coming. Eastern Europe probably has its own problems. So... seems like the Dutch have lost Wallonia for good. The question is, can Edvard hold? I think with enough luck and good troops, he can. The real question is how many Grenadiers Tilly has left. It seems clear that those are the strongest force he has, and from 3000, I doubt more then 1500 are left given the way they were fighting... Another question is whether Tilly keeps his army together. He might very well be tempted to split it given he could outnumber the Dutch... but I feel like that might be a mistake, since his commanders all have flaws (too cautious, too headstrong, too young) and probably don't have his tactical and strategic grasp of a campaign and battlefield.

Also, what the heck is the Dutch fleet doing that it allowed 30,000 troops to arrive in Antwerp, apparently all the way from La Rochelle? How the hell does that happen? For that matter, has the Britannic fleet totally abandoned the Channel? That was an unprecedented blunder, which probably cost them this campaign. If the majority of Dutch strength lies at sea, why the hell aren't they using it? They might have lost this, but I'd be raiding the coast of France in retaliation and in the hope of drawing away forces (since they probably have nothing to defend themselves if they sent 50,000 troops into the Benelux). For that matter, Brittany might be part of the Brittanic Empire but it has autonomy... maybe the Duke of Brittany could be persuaded to launch raids on France too? Obviously the other Britannic possessions on the continent won't be doing anything until the Duke of Oudenburg returns, which will probably not happen... unless he escapes 'house arrest' and decides to ignore Richard II completely.
Oh aye. Tilly wanted Brabant back. Now he has it, his next moves are many. Remember he is only fighting with French forces so far, there are more to come. The French forces came by land, all the way to Antwerp, there was really no alternative, the Spaniards are having to do the same. As for the Dutch fleet, I am sure now they are heading south but remember they are already at war with Portugal and most of the ships are south or east.

As for Brittany, I havnt really decided what they will do yet. They are technically Britannic sure but could raid France. The real question is whether they will risk it without the Brits ready to come and help them.

The Low Countries have not seen the end of war, alas.
 
1606: London
With Heaven in the Balance: Britannia 1581-1626, W O’Reilly (2003)

The mood in England in the summer of 1606 was rather sanguine. Parliament had not met that spring, as had been customary, but everyone knew that Richard II had rejected the call to war. The Emperor himself merely focused on his reforms and protecting himself from the outside. Lennox, the new Lord Protector, handled the majority of the day-to-day business whilst Chief Justice Hatton and Archbishop Whitgift took care of the legal and clerical changes respectively. In the main, Richard II remained publicly silent and most people continued with their lives.

Was there any opposition to this benign tyranny? Well the Triumvirate of Essex, Thetford and Magnus remained free, but after the previous few years were treading very carefully. Likewise, the rest of the MPs from the previous Parliament were keeping their heads down. Given the educated and Reformist nature of the most out-spoken critics, these tended to be from London, the south-east and East Anglia and so were closest to Parliament. This allowed some to make their feelings known, especially through illicit printing presses in London, but these handbills were not circulated beyond the city limits.

Consequently, for most people in the Empire, who at any rate never had recourse through Parliament, day to day life continued as before. Of course they had their heroes; Tudor and William of Oudenberg to a lesser extent, but until they came to grief the masses were happy with their own little worlds. It may seem hard to believe now, but Richard II actually had his fans and supporters. Scotland of course favoured him as did the Welsh and West Country after he had abolished the old Councils and replaced them with more limited and benign Lords Paramount. In general, regions with few Presbyterians, or with limited connection to the continent, had little to complain about. Even the far north, often the thorn in London’s side, was indifferent after the recent wave of evictions and the grants of land to the Lords of March.

Nonetheless the Empire did not operate in a vacuum, and the events in Europe that summer did not escape the notice of Richard and his subjects. As ever, London and the south-east were most clued in to the events in Brabant and Bohemia and it was they who reacted most vociferously to them. The first news came in May with the victory of Rip Mountain and Albert-Henry’s ascension to the Bohemian throne. Richard II had already accepted the young man’s fealty for Pembroke-Gloucester but had regarded his European adventures as an irrelevance until this news arrived. Not only had Albert-Henry upset the balance of power, bringing Calvinist/Presbyterian ideas to Bohemia in the process, but he had done so with the assistance of Magnus the Younger.

Richard II immediately sent heralds to Prague demanding Albert-Henry’s presence. These were destined to be ignored for a long time as the new King defended his realm, but the man’s cousin and backer, Magnus the Red, was summoned to Limberg to explain his actions. Surprisingly, William of Oudenberg was not yet summoned himself, his role in the eastern rebellions could not yet have been known, but he remained at his apartments in St Pancras where Richard had left him. In his typically truculent style, Magnus dawdled and delayed to come the 40 or so miles from his estates in the Home Counties until mid June when William Stewart – Master of Arms and Horse – was dispatched to bring him.

Magnus the Red pleaded his ignorance before Richard II; he could not be held responsible for the actions of his son, no matter what the charge. Of course it was hard to come up with charges as Magnus the Younger had been under the employ of a ‘foreign’ Prince and had not been at war with the Empire. Imperial Justice Hatton, a long-time enemy of Magnus the Red, tried desperately to make something stick against his rival but his subordinate in the Star Chamber, Sir John Coke, allowed Magnus to leave Limberg. So it was that Magnus was still in London at the start of July when news arrived of the fall of Antwerp.

Tilly’s victory sent certain sections of London society into fits of panic. Many of the merchants relied on the city as an entry-point to Europe. Even those which didn’t hated the idea of the Catholics having a Channel harbour; it could only mean bad things for trade. The Imperial Exchange – a kind of Stock Market – collapsed into something approaching a riot as investors tried to get their money out of continental trading companies. Nonetheless the reactions was still limited to these mercantile classes. The common people could not really comprehend the gravity of the situation, and after all there were only a few English mercenaries fighting over there, wasn’t there? There was little danger. We know that Magnus and Oudenberg met around a week after this, and were joined by Essex and Thetford in St Pancras.

The mood in London was to boil over, however, after the Battle of Tommel. When the news arrived on the 1st of August, including the personal tragedy for Oudenberg of his brother’s death, even the common folk failed to miss the significance this time. The Catholics had won two battles and had taken much of the Netherlands below the Meuse and Waal. Never mind that Tilly was carefully avoiding Britannic territory around Bruges, in the atmosphere of hysteria it seemed that Bruges, Calais, even London could be next. At this point, Richard II summoned Oudenberg to explain the actions of his dead brother Johan, but like Magnus, William had nothing he could say.

A few MPs had begun to drift into London throughout July, hoping to be re-called to grant taxation for a declaration of war, after Tommel this trickle turned into a flood. Meeting around Limberg Square beside the Halls of Westminster within a week of the Battle, these MPs and the triumvirate plus Oudenberg debated what to do. Henry Tudor had resumed his aloof retreat from affairs and refused to come to London. William of Oudenberg, desperate to get over to Calais and salvage the situation, suggested that they again go to Limberg Palace and request that Richard II declare war. In the end, with no better alternative, this is what they did on the 11th of August, followed by over 5,000 MPs and concerned Londoners and merchants outside the city to the Imperial Palace.

William of Oudenberg volunteered to go before the Emperor but he was refused entry. To the Earl of Lennox, Oudenberg seemed to be at the head of a small mob, and he was ordered to depart and return to his apartments and await the Emperor’s summons. Dejected, the party returned to London, but undeterred the MPs tried to force their way into Westminster Hall on the 13th to discuss the situation in a formal capacity. They found the doors chained, locked and guarded by the Scots Guards. Only the Earl of Essex’s personal appearance and appeal for the MPs to prevent bloodshed forced them to go home.

Four days later Richard II finally spoke: Magnus ‘the Red’, Viscount Don, was hereby accused of treason for consorting with foreign Princes against the security of the Britannic Empire. Forewarned, Magnus was able to escape arrest and flee into the fens west of Benfleet. The arrest warrant was accompanied two days later by a Public statement by the Earl of Surrey on behalf of the Emperor. Whilst Richard II regretted the loss of life in the Low Countries, the Kingdom of the Netherlands had shown an unwillingness to help the Empire and was even now sheltering the Emperor’s enemies. Richard II pledged to help them after Andrew Melville and his colleagues were returned to England to stand trial. Until then he would do nothing. Furthermore, Magnus’ flight into hiding was being taken as his admission of guilt. Accordingly, his lands and titles were forfeit, as were those of his son Magnus the Younger. They were to pass to the 8 year old son of the younger Magnus, but were to be held in trust by the Emperor until he reached his majority. In effect Richard II had absorbed Magnus' land.

These developments reached William of Oudenberg on the 19th of August, still practically under house arrest. The Duke had been threatened with the same attainder and disinheritance as Magnus if he left London without the Emperor’s permission, but William of Oudenberg was not easily scared. His father, and now brother had been lost in battle to Catholics. His father had died at Dunstable fighting beside the now outlawed Magnus. For all the potential for anger with the fugitive Lord for his father's death, Oudenberg respected the old man and his attainder for treason was the final straw. William of Oudenberg owned significant lands in England and Europe, the former would be lost if he left England, but Richard II had given him little choice. William was the Imperial Constable, his job was to protect the Empire from external threats, and one was stirring right at that moment in Brabant. He could not ignore it.

On the night of the 24th of August 1606, William of Oudenberg escaped London and reached a boat – the demi-caravel Caroline – at Tillbury where Magnus was waiting for him. Men loyal to the Earl of Essex had arranged the flight into exile. The Caroline slipped into the Medway and reached Ostend on the evening of the 25th of August. Within a day word came from London to the commander of the Ostend Garrison, Sir Edmund Bowyer, to arrest the two fugitive Lords and return them to the capital. For Bowyer this was an easy decision; William of Oudenberg was his patron, and Bowyer himself was the son-in-law of Arthur Hartson, Duke of Normandy and long term friend to William and Magnus. The two men remained free and unmolested throughout the Winter.

Richard II was said to be furious, but an expedition to Oudenberg would have to be a veritable invasion to recover Magnus and William, and not something the Empire could afford without raising taxes through Parliament. The Emperor was therefore stuck and returned to brooding in his chambers. Archbishop Whitgift had pro-Richard and anti-Oudenberg/Magnus sermons preached in Churches across the realm, but beyond that and other Propaganda there was little that could be done. At least public order remained intact. Justice Hatton kept a tight lid on proceedings and any sedition was immediately charged. Besides, Oudenberg and Magnus had slipped away like thieves in the night rather than incite a mob. For now the Emperor’s minions were able to control the situation, but Magnus and William’s actions had set an eventual Civil War into motion.
 
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Four days later Richard II finally spoke: Magnus ‘the Red’, Viscount Don, was hereby accused of treason for consorting with foreign Princes against the security of the Britannic Empire
Called it!
They were to pass to the 8 year old son of the younger Magnus, but were to be held in trust by the Emperor until he reached his majority. In effect Richard II had absorbed the Duchies of Gloucester and Pembroke
Wait.... Magnus was never Duke of Gloucester or Pembroke. He was merely holding those lands as de facto regent (honestly, not even this - just a caretaker, since Albert-Henry wasn't a minor) for Albert Henry, who is the rightful duke, and whose fealty was already mentioned as being previously accepted. True, he didn't answer the king's summons, but it didn't sound like he had been attainted as a consequence. Those lands should never have passed to Magnus's son, except as caretaker. Practically, this should have the same effect - because obviously it still means Richard took them over, but if it was declared that lawfully they would pass to Magnus's son, that's a hell of a precedent, disinheriting without attainder... the only lands Magnus's son should get are the Viscountship of Don.
Magnus and William’s actions had set an eventual Civil War into motion
No surprise here. The question is what forces other than those inside England can actually be involved with this - the New World is far away and has its own problems, and the people who would be most against Richard - Oudenburg, Albert Henry, Edvard (next in line after Richard and his kids) - have their hands full with the Catholics.
 
Called it!

Wait.... Magnus was never Duke of Gloucester or Pembroke. He was merely holding those lands as de facto regent (honestly, not even this - just a caretaker, since Albert-Henry wasn't a minor) for Albert Henry, who is the rightful duke, and whose fealty was already mentioned as being previously accepted. True, he didn't answer the king's summons, but it didn't sound like he had been attainted as a consequence. Those lands should never have passed to Magnus's son, except as caretaker. Practically, this should have the same effect - because obviously it still means Richard took them over, but if it was declared that lawfully they would pass to Magnus's son, that's a hell of a precedent, disinheriting without attainder... the only lands Magnus's son should get are the Viscountship of Don.

No surprise here. The question is what forces other than those inside England can actually be involved with this - the New World is far away and has its own problems, and the people who would be most against Richard - Oudenburg, Albert Henry, Edvard (next in line after Richard and his kids) - have their hands full with the Catholics.
Oh aye sorry changed that, just the viscountship was taken, my mistake. But yeah you definitely called it!
 
1606: The East
Of Madness and Piety: Europe 1597-1627, A Thompson (2009)

King Albert I of Bohemia was an energetic young man. It could be said that as Duke of Prussia, father to the Duke of Saxony and King of Bohemia, Albert-Henry had stretched himself too thin. Yet this scion of the House of York was not one to miss an opportunity, nor one to shirk from hard work. As 1606 moved into summer, the new King set about reforming his Kingdom. Thurn was immediately made Lord Chancellor and Valdstejna given further land in the north marches to defend against Polish incursion. Wilhelm Slavata was removed from the Council as was Chief Justice Raphael Minishevsky, both Catholics. Aside from these changes, Albert-Henry pledged to respect the Catholic Church and would not confiscate the land of anyone, unless they actually rose in rebellion against him.

It helped that there were no shortage of volunteers to the new regime. Many Protestants emerged from the woodwork, as too did those who were simply hoping to take advantage of the new ruling dynasty. Albert-Henry was well aware of the need for more support however, and in June 1606 he summoned the New Canaanite preacher Henry Bydlinsky to Prague. The new King of Bohemia knew very well of the ties his realm had across the Atlantic, and the Canaanite Republic’s willingness to help the weak and defenceless. He therefore asked Bydlinsky to carry out a mission to New York to gather supporters and supplies. Not long after Bydlinsky left Prague, Albert-Henry himself was on the move to secure Pilsen and Tabor in the south; both cities admitted him as their rightful King.

While Albert I was nation building, his opponents tried to get their house in order. Sigismund III of Poland and Maximillian III of Austria had both been taken by surprise by Albert-Henry’s arrival in Bohemia. Maximillian especially hoped that Rip Mountain would be the beginning of the end of the rising, and it instead had become the foundations of a much larger threat. For the time-being, Maximillian had returned to Austria and then moved to Transylvania hoping to crush Stephen Bocskai and then return to Bohemia in swift order. Here again the Archduke was frustrated. Not only had Bocskai been bolstered by the arrival of over 1000 Britannic Snelbus, accompanied by Sir William Hartson and Sir Henry Thornhaugh, but by the uprising of Gabriel Bethlen.

Bethlen had actually supported the Bathorys until the assassination of Boldiszar. Following the death of his patron, and the general uprising behind Stephen Bocskai, Bethlen joined the rebels hoping to advance his own ambition by riding their coat-tails into power. With all of this extra firepower, Bocskai felt able to move beyond the mountains and in June 1606 he attacked the town of Oradea which guarded the entrance to the Hungarian plain. The town swiftly surrendered and the rebels moved into the plain itself. In July and army led by Giorgio Basta cornered them near Debrecen, and after an inconclusive battle, Bocskai was forced to retreat. Sensing a victory, Maximillian rushed to aid Basta himself, and confronted with this overwhelming strength, the rebels pulled deeper into Transylvania.

Maximillian advanced throughout August, retaking Oradea, but as his army entered the mountain passes he found the typical guerrilla tactics of Bocskai and his men impossible to deal with. Of the 22,000 men who left Oradea for Cluj, within 3 weeks 17,000 were left through desertion, garrison or attrition, forcing Maximillain to turn back.

As summer drew to a close in Transylvannia, the upland regions were for all intents and purposes free, but the lowlands still under the control of the Archduke of Austria. Maximillian would need greater resources to make a break through in the next campaign. With the war by now having spread to the Low Countries, Cardinal Borghese left for Rome to co-ordinate the wider effort, and hopefully send help to the east. The fact remained, however, that Maximillian had lost around 40% of his remaining territory and was struggling to retake it.

Further north, the lack of Maximillian was not a complete let-off for Albert I of Bohemia. Brno remained in Catholic hands, and Augustus, Duke of Bavaria lurked in wait with around 10,000 men. As a tense staring match began in the south, Sigismund III moved in the north. Taking full advantage of Albert-Henry’s split domains, the Polish King sent 15,000 men under Jan Sapieha to Prussia to harass the Prussian nobles and lay siege to Konigsberg whilst he and Chodkiewicz invaded Bohemia from the north-east with a further 20,000. Sigismund III hoped that the Catholics around Hradec would rise in support of him, but he was to be disappointed.

Almost twenty years of war – with very little to show for it – had already begun to disquiet the Polish nobility who were becoming reluctant to fund their King’s never ending dynastic ambitions. The people of Bohemia were likewise suspicious and Albert-Henry’s pledge to respect their Catholic faith meant that they were willing to stick with the new King rather than join one known for his profligacy and military stupidity. This of course played right into the hands of Albrecht Valdstejna who spent much of July and August engaged in hit and run battles against the Polish Hussars. As at Rip Mountain, the sheer power of the Polish cavalry was certainly something to be feared, but the swiftness and lightness of their Bohemian foes made them hard to catch, and Valdstejna had the best of the engagements. The final straw for the Poles came when Hradec itself barred their gates to the Polish army. With Thurn on his way with a relief force, Sigismund was forced to retreat.

For all of the drama of earlier in the summer, Bohemia, Moravia and Transylvania settled down into an uneasy stalemate. Neither side had the forces to press their advantage and it would take a winter of strategizing and scheming with allies to try and break the deadlock. Meanwhile, in Constantinople, Sultan Ahmad IV watched the situation to his north with growing interest.
 
Narrative 7: Strategies
Limberg Palace, south-west of London, 16th September 1606

Servants scurried to get out the way. Emperor Richard II was not often seen in the lower courtyard of Limberg Palace, and they knew better than to be seen by him. A beating may very easily follow for even the slightest infraction, if they were lucky. The Emperor stalked across the rough cobbles of the courtyard, heading diagonally for the gate into the Orchard. He went there regularly to think, or to calm down, and today he didn’t have time to take the long way.

‘Your Grace!’ a voice shouted from behind him. Richard whirled, hatred in his eyes, the last sight of a maid’s skirts disappearing behind a wall was the only sign of a servant he could see. Instead, striding out from the small door below the long gallery was Lennox himself. Richard’s shoulders sagged just a little. He turned and continued his stalking.

‘Leave me be Esme’ he muttered to his shadow behind him. The Emperor had no desire for talk just now, he needed to think. It had been Hicks who had done it, damn that man. Maybe Hatton had been correct, and Richard couldn’t trust the Imperial Chancellor either. Richard wanted to blockade Calais and Ostend, force the traitors to surrender. He could not have dissent in his Empire. No-one disobeying his orders. Magnus was always a traitor, but to have Oudenberg, and now Amiens and Normandy as well, giving aid to the Dutch and Germans, without his permission, was beyond reproach. He would smoke out the lot of them dammit! He would have their heads on spikes! And here was Hicks, the bean counter, telling him that such a move would destroy them!

His breathing was short now. His temper was seething still. Without realising it he had already swung open the door towards the orchard. The large square of tress with its high wall lay before him. And there was the Empress Margaret. Shrouded and distant she might be, how Richard liked it of course, but she was here! In his space!

‘OUT!’ he roared. The sound cannoning back off the tight walls around him

The hooded figure of his wife turned in fright and then made for the far exit, her two ladies rushing in her wake, one taking her arm supportively. That was no good either, Richard thought passively. He rotated his wives’ ladies in waiting every six months to prevent her gossiping about him, maybe he should shorten that to three months.

He stopped his angry pacing. He hadn’t even known he was doing it. He unclenched his fists too.

‘You too!’ he barked whirling on his friend.

The Earl of Lennox looked tired. The man was old, sure, but the lines around his eyes and his grey complexion were nothing to do with age. The treason of Magnus and the others had taken its toll on him too.

‘Easy Richard’ The Duke replied, raising his hands in a placatory gesture. He kept them there as he began counting. ‘Ten, Nine, Eight…’ It was slow and deliberate, just as it always was. Richard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He started counting too.

‘four, three, two, one.’ His eyes stayed closed as he felt Lennox’s hand on his shoulder.

When he opened his eyes, the old man’s were staring sadly back at him.

They stood in silence like that for a long time. Emperor and his father-figure. Richard mostly stared at the ground, Lennox never took his eyes off him he knew.

‘I’m sorry’ the Emperor finally said, meekly, like a child.

‘Nothin t be sorry for Dickie’ Lennox replied stroking the man’s cheek.

‘This is hard, there is no right answer’

The Emperor stepped back. Out of Lennox’s reach. ‘I know’ he admitted, again like a child who had just been reminded of his chores.

‘I want them dead Esme’ He said finally. ‘Magnus, Oudenberg, the whole lot of them. And Hicks is no better. A danger to the realm’s coffers? What is he talking about? We need to destroy Calais.’

Silence again.

‘Aye, yer right’ Lennox said, allowing his soft lowland lilt to break in. It soothed Richard. ‘But I seen the figures myself Dickie, we can’t go without the customs revenues from Calais. We’d be bankrupt in a month.’

‘Then what should I do?’ Richard said, not angrily but completely broken. He felt totally lost, and for once he could let it show. He only ever let Lennox see him like this. A tear ran down his cheek. It was safe to do that here. He hoped.

‘What should I do?’ he pleaded again, this time through a sob.

Lennox took a step forward. He placed a soothing arm around his Emperor. As the sobbing subsided he said ‘Well I was talking to Bill Stewart. He reckons we can land in St Malo and march east. Once you’re over there, no-one will dare oppose you. The Duke Of Brittany certainly can’t stop you. Then we go to Calais and take them down. I’ll be with you every step of the way, you know that.’

Emperor Richard thought for a long time. He retreated into his favourite corner of the Orchard. He could see both doors from this corner, it made him feel safe, and the sun lit the top half of the wall at this time of day. He stood pensively for a few minutes, Lennox remained rooted to the spot. Then Richard nodded. ‘When?’

‘Spring’

‘Good, thank you Esme’

Silence returned again.

‘Before you go’ Richard asked, not that Lennox had shown he was about to leave ‘dismiss Hicks for me, and ask Maxwell to get up to speed on the Imperial job, I feel our Chancellor is not long for his job.’

Inwardly Lennox whinced, another Englishman to be sacked and replaced with a Scot? Outwardly he just nodded.

‘Anything else, your Grace?’ Lennox asked, formal again now that Richard’s mood had passed.

‘Yes, one thing, do you still have eyes on the Empress?’ Richard asked, his tone level, his eyes again pointing at the floor. ‘Any further contact with our Duke of Richmond?’

‘None since January your Grace, when he asked her to intervene over the war. I will alert you if any further letters arrive from him for the Lady Margaret.’

‘Very good, thank you Lennox.’

Taking his cue, the Earl of Lennox turned to leave to make the arrangements to bring the traitors to justice. Behind him the Emperor of Britannia sunk to the ground and began to hug his knees.

Versailles, 29th November 1606

Jean Tserclaes was tired. The last year had seen success beyond his wildest dreams. Brabant was Catholic again. And his! But the job was far from done, and the last week had seen meetings and parlays with countless Princes, Bishops, Cardinals and Generals from across Christendom in order to bring the work to a conclusion. The Marshal of Europe strode through the colonnades to his rooms in the west wing of the palace. The rainy night sky outside being driven back by the dripping arched roof and the guttering torches. The Count of Tilly began to loosen his belt as thoughts of bed beckoned.

Britannia was fighting with itself, that was what he had heard. The Dukes Oudenberg and Normandy were arrayed against their Emperor. There was no better chance than now to secure the whole of the Low Countries and maybe even Normandy too, who knew? But then Borghese had arrived. Jean respected the Cardinal, he after all had the ear of the Pope, and he was stirring up enough fervour to cover France’s own land-grab. But now Tilly had to pay the piper. It seemed Hungary was in a mess. Those infernal Habsburgs, could they not go into oblivion quietly? Not a century ago they had looked to be the dominant power in Europe, now they couldn’t even deal with a pair of minor rebellions. And, of all people, they were coming to France for help.

The whole day Jean had been locked in debate with Borghese, Henry IV, and the Polish and Habsburg ambassadors. They were asking for aid, Tilly and his master were trying to evade their demands whilst Borghese gradually needled the French into helping. Wasn’t this after all the Faith Militant? The whole of Christendom in arms to push back the Protestant menace? The Cardinal was right of course, but Tilly knew that pipedreams and Holy missions were nothing compared to cold hard tactics. The east was all but lost. That was even if the Ottomans stayed quiet which they were unlikely to do. Better to focus on the Low Countries, they were much easier.

Of course Tilly needed to throw the other partners something. France could not be the sole beneficiary. He was thinking about Wurttemberg and Bohemia when a voice behind him caused him to turn. ‘My Lord!’ It cried.

‘I told you the Count Tilly is not to be disturbed he has retired for the night!’ came a curt reply. Jean recognised that second voice, it was Fauzere, his steward. The man himself came around the corner at the end of the colonnade pursuing a man in white robes. Was that, a Bishop?

‘I am sorry my Lord’ Fauzere said to Tilly ‘your excellency, please leave the Count be, you can see him in the morning.’ This last to the man in white, so he was a Bishop.

‘It’s ok Fauzere, I will see his excellency’ Tilly said re-tightening his belt and pushing the door open to his chamber.

‘Please, your excellency, do you come in’

The Bishop entered, and in the pale candle light of the ante chamber Tilly could see that he was young, very young, perhaps no more than 25 or so.

‘Thank you, my Lord’ the young man said ‘my apologies for the late hour, but I have been trying to reach you all day, and despite my office, I was barred entry.’

‘Of course, your excellency’ Tilly said, sitting down and beginning to unlace his boots. He indicated for the Bishop to sit in the wooden chair opposite him. ‘What did you hope to see me about?’

The Bishop ruffled his robes awkwardly and Tilly realised he was looking for something. Then with a jangle a large set of dark grey keys emerged from the white folds. The Bishop held them out to the Marshall of Europe.

‘My Lord, I bring you the keys to the Vendee, expressly the keys to the fortress of Talmont. The whole region is ready to rebel in favour of the true faith. The Duke of Brittany is weak, and his English masters are distracted. I give you my word as a Holy father, that should you invade tomorrow then the County shall be yours, mayhaps Nantes too.’

Tilly left his boots loosened around his ankles. He reached over and took the keys from the Bishop. There in the end of the key was the heart of the Vendee. It was true. Tilly thought about the spoils of war, and the map of Europe he kept in his head. He looked up to the young Bishop, whose eyes excitedly gazed back at him in the candlelight.

‘Thank you, your excellency, I am sorry I did not ask your name?’

‘Du Plessis, My Lord, Armand Du Plessis, recently elected Bishop of Lucon. You may know my father the Seigneur de Richelieu?

Tearmann, Tir na Gaelige, 7th January 1607

Grainne Ni Mhaille was home. After almost a year sailing across the Atlantic, avoiding the Britannic patrols and deadly storms, she had been to Paris and was now back in sight of Tearmann. As her riverboat plied up the Gearthafilli River she saw the Ui Neill Hall on the hill overlooking the sanctuary. The town was not even 50 years old but already it was the largest Irish-speaking settlement Grainne had ever seen, it made Castlebar look like a tiny hamlet.

In the dying light of sunset the chimneys of the hundred or so huts and taverns added smoke to the sky. Above them rose the Ui Neill Hall. Its pitched roof like the great palaces in the old country, save that this one was made with wood the colour of the natives’ skin. Tearmann was not organised, nor particularly pretty, not after Paris, but it was home.

On the dock she could see a huge man staring downstream at her. He was monstrous, easily a torso bigger than the next man on the dock. That and his mob of red hair cascading down his shoulders told her it could only be one man. Roe O’Donnell. As the boat touched the dock, his face remained impassive. The dark eyes lancing out from the tangle of red hair and beard. Grainne stepped lightly from the boat and strode up to the O’Donnell keeping her eyes fixed on hers, though they were at the same height as his navel.

‘Roe’ she nodded in greeting. The Red man just stared back, only a tiny glint in one eye betraying his true feelings.

‘Welcome back’ he said dead-pan. ‘He wants to see you’. He could only be one person.

‘Lead on’ Grainne responded. She and Roe spoke only few words in public, they could catch up and get drunk later, now they needed to project their image of strength to the people. It was one of the few things keeping the Kingdom alive.

Roe turned and Grainne followed. As they walked through the muddy streets of Tearmann, Grainne could see the signs of growth. New, larger houses, were being built and the children who came out to greet her seemed taller and wider than before. Clearly harvest had been good. The early evening was not chill, and the sound of insects really helped Grainne to feel like she was home. Most of the people they passed, save the children, did not meet her eye, or even look at her, walking with Roe O’Donnell did that to you.

After a while they reached the palisade around the Ui Neill Hall. The large skeleton of an alligator hung above the open gateway. Aodh had killed it himself. His guard – flanked by two huge Africans with Axes - lined the way to the hall, Roe and Grainne pushed past them and through the doors without a word. Only them on the entire earth could do so without permission.

The hall was dark and smoky. Tiny movements in the shadows the only sign that it was occupied. The great fire in the centre the only source of light.

‘So, you are back?’ Came the voice from the gloom at the far end.

Neither Roe or Grainne said a word, they just walked past the fire until they could see the throne by its light. On a raised dais it rested, twisted bronze wood. On it sat a tall dark man with razor-like features. His eyes were darker than Roe’s but they blazed in the light of the fire. Both Grainne and Roe knelt before him as he stood. Noise in the shadows told them that the few other occupants did the same.

‘Leave us’ The High King of the Gaels said. Sounds of shuffling again. Then the voice spoke again ‘rise, my friends.’

Grainne stood and looked up. Aodh Ui Neill was standing in front of her, the red paint under his eyes livid in the fire light. The dark man grinned and embraced his pirate Queen. ‘Good to have you back Grainne’ he said. As he pulled back, a meaty paw smacked into her spine as Roe gave her his informal welcome. It would have floored her had she not been ready.

‘Good to be back’ Grainne said, punching a tiny fist into a muscled bicep the size of an Oxen’s thigh in response.

‘What news from the Old World?’ Asked Aodh eagerly.

‘We have friends and allies.’ Grainne replied. ‘The French gave us money to buy weapons and ships from New York.’ They want us to cause havoc to the English this side of the Ocean.’

Her news was as welcome as she thought. Aodh’s grin grew even wider and Roe howled like a wolf. ‘And the other thing?’ He asked impatiently.

‘The Britannics are falling apart, if we are to rescue our brethren we will never get a better chance.’ She smiled and placed a hand on Roe’s arm, with the other she took Aodh’s hand. ‘This is it brothers.’

Roe howled again and looked at his King. ‘Can we?’ He asked like an excited child. Or at least, one who weighed over 140kg and stood almost 7 feet tall.

Aodh Ui Neill paused a moment, and then nodded. ‘Call up the Clans, Roe, it is time to bring our people home.’
 
For once I actually feel sorry for Richard, he's so clearly in over his head. Great writing!

And things are kicking off left right and centre now, aren't they? I look forward to seeing how everything pans out.
 
1607: London, The Henry Tudor Affair
With Heaven in the Balance: Britannia 1581-1626, W O’Reilly (2003)

The winter of 1606-7 was a quiet one in England. After the escape of Magnus the Red and William of Oudenberg, Richard II was seen very little in public. The Emperor hoped to be able to bring the traitors to heal by blockading Calais and starving them out but Imperial Chancellor Sir Michael Hicks pointed out that such a move would severely damage the Britannic economy. With Antwerp already lost, Calais was now the undisputed Entrepot for Britannic goods to Europe and was also the second largest city in the Empire. Undeterred, Richard ordered the Earl of Lennox to prepare plans for an invasion in order to arrest the fugitives.

By Christmas 1606 the list of the Emperor’s enemies had grown further. The earl of Amiens had been attainted of treason after his son surfaced in Bohemia, and the Duke of Normandy was also accused after he failed to bring the Duke of Oudenberg to justice. Yet all this antipathy was angled across the Channel. Within England itself there remained an air of unease, and the City of London was still unhappy about the disruption to trade, but the vast majority continued as before. Until Richard II implemented any unjust taxation or messed too much with the Church, then most were happy.

There were those, however, who remained unhappy with the status quo. By the new year the Earls of Essex, Thetford, Wiltshire and Kent had solidified as the new core of war-hawks desperate for Richard to declare war. These men also agitated for greater religious freedom and the return of Parliament, but after Tommel war was their greatest priority. Around them circled over 200 disgruntled ex-MPs, Puritans and other reformers and a handful of other minor gentry. There was, however, very little they could do. Richard II controlled all of the printing presses, or rather Lennox and Surrey did, and the masses were very hard to mobilise whilst taxation was non-existent and their bellies were full.

Publicly, Henry Tudor remained aloof from the whole debacle. From Yorkshire he occasionally responded to letters, but he resolutely refused to attend court or even come to London. The Earl of Richmond had tired of politics. Then in late January 1607, Henry Tudor changed his stance. We still do not know why, but a lost communication from Oudenberg seems the most likely reason. Nor do we know for certain if Tudor’s supposed letter to the Empress Margaret, imploring her to lobby her husband for war, existed or was genuine. What we are certain of, is that, following rumours of such a letter, Henry Tudor was summoned to court by Richard II himself. Ever the obedient servant of his Emperor, Tudor obeyed.

Henry Tudor arrived at Limberg on the 2nd of February 1607. According to anecdotal evidence and legend the initial meeting went well, until Tudor expressed his concerns for the Empress Margaret’s health. At this point Richard II flew into a paranoid rage. Without any real mention of the war or Tudor’s requests, the Earl found himself arrested and placed in the Tower of London. The mob had their champion. For the next week London was in a state of carefully managed tension until Chief Justice Hatton released the charges against Tudor. Hatton claimed that the Earl had been consorting with Oudenberg and Magnus and was therefore accused of treason by association.

There was no mention of the Empress Margaret. More sordid commentators suggest that she and Tudor were having an affair and that Richard had uncovered it. If this were so then there would have been more contemporary questions over the legitimacy of Richard’s children than they were. It is far more likely that Henry Tudor, in his many years as Lord Protector, had simply noticed the parlous and friend-less state that the Emperor kept his wife in and became a friendly face to her. What was actually said that day at Limberg will never be known, but it seems most likely that Richard’s paranoia and rage once again got the better of him and led him to suspect a man who had only ever served him loyally and under difficult circumstances.

Though publishing the charges against Tudor defused the tensions a little – for surely he would be exonerated – Hatton had not announced a trial date, thus leaving Tudor and his supporters in limbo. From their estates in East Anglia and the Home Counties, the opposition Lords wisely chose not to make an issue of Tudor’s arrest, they all remembered the political storm which had ultimately spelled death for Thomas Cartwright.

For Richard’s part he wisely – or perhaps Lennox advised him – decided to let the dust settle before he made his next move. Richard II wanted a campaign to Europe to dislodge and arrest the traitors. Lennox and Master of Arm William Stewart had hatched a plan to land in St Malo, technically a Breton port under lease to the Empire, where none of the attainted Lords had loyal men to bar a landing. From there the plan was to march across to Calais arresting traitors and restoring order as they went. It was a simple if ambitious plan, but it still required funds. The Royal coffers may have been substantial, but transporting and supplying an army for what could be months was still going to require taxation of some kind. But how to get it without Parliament?

By mid-March it had become obvious that Imperial Chancellor Michael Hicks was being circumvented on almost all counts, and he was eventually sacked to be replaced by the Chancellor of the Exchequer Lord John Maxwell. Maxwell may have been loyal to a fault, but he was already disliked by the English. This hatred only intensified when on the 2nd of April Maxwell announced that tariffs on goods landed in English ports would be increased to 15% and for ‘luxury’ items such as precious metals or New World Crops this would be 30%. In most cases this represented a doubling of existing taxes. Richard II could in theory raise these tariffs without Parliament’s approval, but it was considered customary to ask. The mob, already enraged by Tudor’s treatment, was raised to even greater anger. News from Europe sent them over the edge.
 
1607: The Battle of Eindhoven
Another double update! I am on a roll....but also going to bed, there should have been a second battle in Brittany, but alas tomorrow! Thanks as ever for the support!

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

If 1606 had been Tilly’s lightening war, then 1607 would be his carefully orchestrated masterstroke. Whilst the Protestants spent the winter milling around and falling against each other, Tilly marshalled the Catholic League for his next campaign. It helped that Cardinal Borghese and Henry IV had declared Tilly Marshall of Europe – the supreme commander of all Catholic forces. In reality this meant everything west of the Alps, but Tilly tried to influence outcomes in the east as best as he could.

Tilly planned to start the 1607 campaign early, in March if possible. Throughout 1606 the armies of France and Spain had been gathered and mustered and between them Tilly could command almost 95,000 men. The majority of these were conscripts from the Dixiem system who nonetheless were trained and equipped to an acceptable standard. However a third of the force were professional soldiers. Von Mansfeld’s cavalry had swelled to around 9,000 in total now that the Spanish had arrived and Tilly himself had personally trained another 5,000 French Grenadiers. The remaining professionals were standard infantry but included the French Azure Guard and the Compania de Saintiago amongst their ranks; in short, enough to harden the Catholic armies. Thus Tilly hoped to strike hard, fast and early. He hoped that one more campaign season could net the Catholics significant gains, enough to then sue for peace.

Tilly divided his forces. He sent the Count of Bucquoy under the Duke of Lerma and the majority of the Spaniards south to tie down the Bretons whilst Tilly maintained the bulk of his French conscripts and veterans from the previous campaign. This gave Tilly just under 50,000 men included 5,000 cavalry under Von Mansfeld, a further 4,000 Grenadiers, again commanded by the Marquis de Barre – now the Duc de Liege – and then 40,000 conscript soldiers led by Francois de Bonne, Duc de Lesdiguières.

In contrast, his Protestant foes were not so richly served with men . Tommel had left King Edvard with perhaps 10,000 men, but the winter had been good to him. A further 10,000 soldiers were raised from the Netherlands themselves, whilst another 9,000, of which 2,000 were cavalry, came from Denmark under Gert Rantzau. King Christian IV had decided to observe his alliances, especially after the Dutch agreed to pay 50% of the army’s running costs. Yet the biggest boon came out of Britannia’s despair. To the existing 3,000 Orange Free Company came a further 6,000 of the Oudenberg Company. William of Oudenberg and Magnus the Red may be outlaws in their homeland, but they knew how to fight and men flocked to their banner, even if they ran the risk of being accused of traitors back home.

Crucially, William of Oudenberg was the commander that Edvard had been so desperately missing. With Magnus as an adviser, Oudenberg took control of the Protestant army from Hertogenbosch south of the Meuse. The outlying towns of Eindhoven, Breda and Tillburg were prime targets to Tilly’s army, and Oudenberg knew that he had to hold them in order to stabilise the situation.

William of Oudenberg was a wise commander, but he was caught completely off-guard when a French army lay siege to Eindhoven in the second week of March 1607. Short on cavalry, Oudenberg knew that the French had around 40,000 men compared to his own 35,000. With that and the garrison of Eindhoven, he was confident that a blow could be struck. Without even waiting for his reinforcements to straggle in, Oudenberg ordered the army to march the 20 miles to Eindhoven.

The Battle of Eindhoven occurred on the 19th of March 1607. Despite the time of year the day dawned bright, enough for Oudenberg to get a measure of the battlefield. The Catholic army was drawn up to the north west of the city on a shallow plateau known as Halve Maan with a canal running to the west. The Catholics had built siege lines to the north of the city between this canal and the river Dommel. Even in a week, the soft Flanders soil had yielded easily and mounds of earth were strewn across the field. The first thing which Oudenberg noticed was the absence of Tilly’s colours. Instead the flag of the Francois de Bonne, Duc de Lesdiguières flew over the besieging army, which looked to be 40,000 strong. Not being entirely certain, Oudenberg sent Rantzau’s Danish cavalry to the east and Giovanni’s Britannic Lancers to the west to try and locate Tilly.

As dawn illuminated the battlefield, the Protestant army came under fire. Not quite obvious from Oudenberg’s vantage point, de Bonne’s men had dug siege works facing the north as well as the south, and the Catholic long guns began to harry Oudenberg’s army. His decision made for him, William of Oudenberg ordered the advance. His right flank was commanded by Magnus the Red and Georg Boleyn, his centre by William of Guelders and King Edvard, his left, mostly Danish contingent, by Phillip of Neuenstein. As the Protestants advanced, the French retreated behind their earthworks, still out of range of Eindhoven’s guns.

It became quickly apparent that de Bonne had planned for this eventuality. The siege works were in fact defensive trenches, and they were mostly facing north. But Oudenberg was close now and he knew that a general charge by his flanks could break the Catholics. Their left flank – facing Magnus – was commanded by the still green Seigneur de Lamboy, and William knew that his friend could break that and turn the entire line. He was not wrong, and the 9,000 Britannic soldiers broke into a run and smashed through the half-finished defenses and pierced Lamboy’s line at the extreme left end. On the Catholic right, Neuenstein was similarly having good fortune as the Duc de la Force’s men gave ground. Only in the centre, where the massed Dutch and French conscripted divisions traded volleys, did the Catholics hold.

Then Tilly arrived. The first sign William of Oudenberg had of this were the Danes galloping in from the east, crossing the stream of Dommel near Hooldonk, well behind the Protestant line. They were haggered, and Rantzau was lost, presumed dead, but they had found Tilly. More accurately, Ernst von Mansfeld had found them. A commander of heavy cavalry he might have been, but Mansfeld knew his ambush tactics well and they had gotten the jump on the Danes from a forest three miles east of Eindhoven. Even better, Mansfeld had pursued the Danes back across the Dommel and as the sun reached noon, his cavalry entered the Protestant rear, all 5,000 of them.

In a panic, Oudenberg immediately ordered the Danes to withdraw and turn to receive Mansfeld’s cavalry. De Bonne saw his chance, and committed his reserve to this right flank at this moment, pinning and holding the Danes. They were hopelessly surrounded and torn to pieces when Mansfeld finally charged, landing in their rear and killing Neuenstein in the process. King Edvard and Oudenberg themselves counter-charged into Mansfeld forcing him to pull back and regroup but by now Tilly and his secret weapon had also crossed the Dommel.

Tilly had waited for his moment carefully. Attached to the Marquis de Barre’s grenadier companies to inject some caution and patience into the young commander, Tilly had waited for Mansfeld to engage the Danes before he moved his men from their night-time hiding spot some 2 miles east of the Dommel. Tilly had gambled that a lack of cavalry and an eagerness to close would make Oudenberg commit his forces. The gamble had paid off.

With Tilly in his rear, Mansfeld reforming, and the Danes all but obliterated, Oudenberg still had 25,000 men trapped between the canal and the Dommel. He had to get them moving and fast. The Dutch had disengaged the fastest but were slow and inexperienced, Oudenberg had them immediately march north west and aim for Hergotenbosch whilst Magnus came across from the right flank. Given the strength of his charge, Magnus had put de Lamboy out of commission, and so his only real threat to his rear were the French conscripts. Magnus sent the Orange Company to hold them off with hit and run tactics in the smoke and churned muddy ground whilst his 5,000 Oudenberg Company stared down the French Grenadiers in what had been William of Oudenberg’s command post.

Magnus had never fought Grenadiers before, but he knew enough about them to abandon the idea of a static defence. Instead, his professional soldiers fought small actions, trying to keep the Grenadiers at range and moving in groups of around 20 to stand, fire and then reload on the run. Given the Model III Snelbus, and his men’s training, this was something Magnus' men could do. The Oudenberg Company fired and moved back into the smoke before the Grenadiers could pin them down with grenades, or close with axes.

To the shrewdness of Magnus, Tilly had become rather rash. He had seen his enemy trapped before him and was eager to close for the kill. However the confused lines of battle, and the drifting smoke in the calm spring day, meant that his Grenadiers, for all their ferocity and training, got confused and were in danger of charging de Bonne’s conscripts. Mansfeld too kept up his harassment of the Danish remnants as they retreated, but the broken ground and sight lines did him no favours.

Over the night of the 19th and 20th of March, the Protestant army staggered back into Hergotenbosch. Giovanni II had been recalled from his wild goose chase to the east and had been able to defend the retreat, but by morning it was clear that Eindhoven had been another defeat for the Protestants. It was only Magnus’ quick actions which had prevented a complete rout. Oudenberg now commanded around 22,000 men, only around 9,000 of these were considered professional soldiers with the rest being from the conscript army. Tilly wasn’t entirely pleased either, his trap had almost worked but he had over-relied on the Grenadiers to crush the Protestants and instead they had been able to escape. De Bonne’s conscripts had lost about 6,000 men between them which gave Tilly a force of 42,000 or so remaining to take Tilburg and Breda, Eindhoven having surrendered after the battle. Even that was not the best news for Tilly. After all, the entire Eindhoven adventure had been a mere distraction.
 
1607: The Fall of The Vendee
Generals and Kings Channel ‘The Battle of Ancenis’

Welcome to the Generals and Kings channel and our ongoing series following the events of the Twenty Years War. In the winter of 1607, Jean Tserclaes, Marshall Tilly, had formulated a plan to regain territory lost by the Kingdom of France over the previous century. His campaigns the previous year had regained Brabant, but he now set his sights on Brittany.

For almost 40 years the Duchy of Brittany had controlled the Vendee region and the Loire Valley. This rich farmland not only denied the French access to the Atlantic, but provided a deep buffer for the Breton before their historic territory. Whilst Tilly himself held down the Dutch in the Low Countries, he gave the Duke of Lerma and Count of Bucquoy 40,000 men with which to take the Vendee by storm.

Equipped with the support of Vendean Catholics, led by the young Bishop of Lucon – and future Cardinal Richelieu – Bucquoy and Lerma took the Breton garrison by surprise. Invading in two columns from the south and east, the Castle at Talmont surrendered without a fight, the Castellan having agreed to turn his coat in advance of the invasion. Bucquoy and Lerma then marched north and by the third week of March had swept the Vendee save a small garrison at Challons and the main Breton force at Montaigu under Edouard Al Mann (Edward the Younger), son of Duke Henri I.

Al Mann, as Count Vendee, had the responsibility of holding back the Catholic advance. This, however, was an impossible task, and at the age of 22 and with only 7,000 men scoured from the entire region, there was little he could do against the 40,000 strong horde arrayed against him. Duke Henri, for his part, had been horrified at the sheer collapse of the Vendee. The native population, despite a fairly benevolent rule from Brittany, had declared for the invaders more or less to a man. It seemed that the Breton had overestimated the level of their own control and the Duke was now scrambling to salvage something.

Brittany had been part of the Britannic Empire for over a century, but they had always been a tenuous member. Unlike England and Normandy-Picardy, Brittany had not fully embraced the military reforms of Magnus the Red and his father before him. The Breton army could thus number a total of 20,000 men, around a third of which was south of the Loire. Furthermore, the Breton army still fought with the outdated tactics of pike and shot, much of their recent trade earnings being invested in their navy instead.

Desperate, Duke Henri dispatched emisarries to London to call on his overlord Richard II to send help. In the meantime he called Henri D’Gaspard out of retirement. D’Gaspard had once been Marshal of Brittany, but now was now in his 70s. D’Gaspard answered his Lord’s call and made for Nantes. D’Gaspard knew that he had the best chance of stopping the Catholic League advance at the Loire River. The territory north of Nantes was nominally more loyal to Brittany than Vendee ever had been. However the grizzled old Marshall needed to recover Edouard Al Mann and his forces first.

The Battle of Ancenis came from these problems. By the 22nd of March, almost all of Vendee had fallen and Edouard Al Mann was moving north towards Nantes. However D’Gaspard needed the young Prince to buy him time to fortify the Ile de Nantes, and so he ordered him east to Ancenis and the next crossing over the Loire some 15 miles upstream. Edouard could then protect this flank as the Catholics could cross easily at Angers a further 40 miles away. The Count of Bucquoy was still touring the west of the Vendee bringing the region under his control, this left Lerma and his Spaniards to chase down the Breton heir.

For three days Edouard Al Mann guided his 7,000 men through streams of refugees heading north. The cavalry of the Marquess de Valdueza kept him moving. After a brief skirmish north of Cisson, Al Mann managed to hold off a desperate cavalry charge. The Breton’s pike and shot may have been outdated, but it could still deter horses. After this, Al Mann’s knowledge of the countryside kept him ahead of his pursuers and he crossed the Loire at Ancenis on the 25th of March. Totally exhausted, but relatively safe, the respite was to be short-lived. By Now the Duke of Lerma had learned of D’Gaspard’s plan to block the Loire at Nantes, and wanting to keep up the pressure, needed to cross at Ancenis.

Accordingly, the Battle of Ancenis occurred on the 27th of March. For two days the Breton forces had recovered from their desperate march north, and had been reinforced with 1000 men and a pair of light guns from the Nantes garrison. With these 8,000 men, Edouard Al Mann had to hold the bridge at Ancenis long enough for gunpowder to be brought up to destroy it. The Breton had already tried this on the 26th, but the bridge remained standing – if precariously.

Arrayed against Edouard was the entire Duke of Lerma’s 20,000 men, including 2,000 cavalry. Most of the these men were conscripts, but amongst them was the Compania de Saintiago, and Lerma relied on this to break the Breton line. Edouard Al Mann may have been young, but he had studied for a time at the Aprium College near Calais for a time and so had been trained by some of the finest military minds in the Empire, including William of Oudenberg. Al Mann knew that he only had to hold the bridge for a certain amount of time, and focused on the 100 yards nearest to his position on the north bank. The Breton had dug-in the pair of guns they had and Al Mann had his best soldiers form a double line backed by Pikes.

Around mid-morning Lerma began to probe this tight Breton defenses with his conscripts who traded volleys with the under-strength Bretons at the northern end of the bridge. Yet they could not break through, and Edouard’s guns caused punishing damage on the Spanish conscripts. Next Lerma tried an artillery bombardment, but the extensive distance meant that this was very inaccurate and ineffective. Finally around mid-afternoon Lerma sent in the Compania de Saintiago, but even their expert gunnery could not overcome the sheer volume of fire which Edouard could call down on the bridge.

With the light fading, and Breton morale soaring, Lerma had one final gambit to play. Whipping his entire force into a frenzy, he had his combined army charge across the bridge into the Breton defensive line; guns, pikes and all. The Spaniards did not even pause to fire a volley but charged in a disorganised column hoping to overwhelm the defenses with sheer weight of numbers. The Bretons, having fought all day, were beginning to tire, and the Tercios began to step back from the bridge.

At that moment, however, the damaged bridge, subjected to over 10,000 men trying to cross it simultaneously, finally collapsed. It began slowly and was localised to the span nearest the north bank, but within minutes a 100 yard gap had opened in the bridge, swallowing over 200 Spaniards with it. The battle of Ancenis was over. Despite all odds, Edouard Al Mann had held the line and the Loire was safe. This would only be a temporary respite, Angers still being in Catholic hands, but it would give D’Gaspard another week to prepare the defenses of Nantes.

Neither had the battle really affected the balance of power. The Bretons lost around 3,000 men to bring their total army to 17,000 whilst Lerma had lost over 8,000 but with Bucquoy’s force he could still command 42,000 men. Ancenis or course in the grandscheme was a mere skirmish, but it was significant for two reasons. First, it was the first victory for the forces of the League of Copenhagen in the west of Europe in over a year of war. Secondly, it heralded the emergence of Edouard Al Mann, at this point one of the few heroes of the League cause, and soon to be the saviour of Brittany.

Thank you for watching the Generals and Kings channel, and we will catch you on the next one.
 
For all of the drama of earlier in the summer, Bohemia, Moravia and Transylvania settled down into an uneasy stalemate. Neither side had the forces to press their advantage and it would take a winter of strategizing and scheming with allies to try and break the deadlock. Meanwhile, in Constantinople, Sultan Ahmad IV watched the situation to his north with growing interest.
Hmmm, interesting developments, though not unexpected. It sounds like Eastern Europe is ripe for the taking by the Protestants, then, with no help from the Catholics coming (I guess 'Marshal of Europe' really means 'Marshal of Western Europe'). So long, Poland. And adieu to the last remnants of the Holy Roman Empire. I don't think it'll matter much for the war in the west, since the Eastern Protestants probably won't be able to help the Western ones in time. But in the future it might have consequences - because once Eastern Europe until the Rhine is unified under the Protestants, what prevents a drive down south at Italy next time the Pope declares another holy war?
Aodh Ui Neill paused a moment, and then nodded. ‘Call up the Clans, Roe, it is time to bring our people home.’
Welp, looks like Bradbury is going to get it. But we don't like the French, so who cares? Honestly, they probably deserve it, and I can't see the Irish making much headway (or trying to) against the Britannic colonies on land.
The mob, already enraged by Tudor’s treatment, was raised to even greater anger. News from Europe sent them over the edge.
Welp, there goes England, and with it, probably the Britannic Empire for a time. Will Richard even get to go Brittany in the first place? Although honestly, the best time to rebel would be when he's not there with his army... Honestly, I was expecting a comedy of errors, with Richard landing at St. Malo to threaten Brittany only to discover Tilly doing the same, and both of them trying not to fight each other while threatening Brittany, only to accidentally maneuver themselves into a battle. On the other hand, if Tilly's original plan was only for one further year of war, England's collapse might make him extend the campaign.
. De Bonne’s conscripts had lost about 6,000 men between them which gave Tilly a force of 42,000 or so remaining to take Tilburg and Breda, Eindhoven having surrendered after the battle. Even that was not the best news for Tilly. After all, the entire Eindhoven adventure had been a mere distraction.
Okay, but really, the question is how many Grenadiers were lost. Also, this shows that without Tilly, his commanders can still be beaten - De Bonne was thrashed and only saved by Tilly, it sounds like both of his flanks collapsed. Awesome seeing Magnus doing what he does best, with new tactics for new threats. And the situation in Brittany also shows that Tilly can't be everywhere. If he wanted Brittany to fall, he should have been there himself. It seems odd to have been himself on the diversionary campaign rather than the main one, especially with the French and Spanish commanders being relatively untried. Then again, maybe the fall of the Loire Valley was a sure thing (because traitors), Tilly didn't think all of Brittany could be taken in one season anyway, and he thought overwhelming force would do the rest?
Secondly, it heralded the emergence of Edouard Al Mann, at this point one of the few heroes of the League cause, and soon to be the saviour of Brittany.
Oooooh, cool stuff... and another Protestant war hero from the line of York, so another person for Richard to be jealous of! Good stuff. Also, great to know Brittany will be saved, I am worried for it, it almost certainly won't be getting any help.

Sorry for taking so long to reply, holidays and illness... coming back to 5 updates, definitely worth it.
 
Hmmm, interesting developments, though not unexpected. It sounds like Eastern Europe is ripe for the taking by the Protestants, then, with no help from the Catholics coming (I guess 'Marshal of Europe' really means 'Marshal of Western Europe'). So long, Poland. And adieu to the last remnants of the Holy Roman Empire. I don't think it'll matter much for the war in the west, since the Eastern Protestants probably won't be able to help the Western ones in time. But in the future it might have consequences - because once Eastern Europe until the Rhine is unified under the Protestants, what prevents a drive down south at Italy next time the Pope declares another holy war?

Welp, looks like Bradbury is going to get it. But we don't like the French, so who cares? Honestly, they probably deserve it, and I can't see the Irish making much headway (or trying to) against the Britannic colonies on land.

Welp, there goes England, and with it, probably the Britannic Empire for a time. Will Richard even get to go Brittany in the first place? Although honestly, the best time to rebel would be when he's not there with his army... Honestly, I was expecting a comedy of errors, with Richard landing at St. Malo to threaten Brittany only to discover Tilly doing the same, and both of them trying not to fight each other while threatening Brittany, only to accidentally maneuver themselves into a battle. On the other hand, if Tilly's original plan was only for one further year of war, England's collapse might make him extend the campaign.

Okay, but really, the question is how many Grenadiers were lost. Also, this shows that without Tilly, his commanders can still be beaten - De Bonne was thrashed and only saved by Tilly, it sounds like both of his flanks collapsed. Awesome seeing Magnus doing what he does best, with new tactics for new threats. And the situation in Brittany also shows that Tilly can't be everywhere. If he wanted Brittany to fall, he should have been there himself. It seems odd to have been himself on the diversionary campaign rather than the main one, especially with the French and Spanish commanders being relatively untried. Then again, maybe the fall of the Loire Valley was a sure thing (because traitors), Tilly didn't think all of Brittany could be taken in one season anyway, and he thought overwhelming force would do the rest?

Oooooh, cool stuff... and another Protestant war hero from the line of York, so another person for Richard to be jealous of! Good stuff. Also, great to know Brittany will be saved, I am worried for it, it almost certainly won't be getting any help.

Sorry for taking so long to reply, holidays and illness... coming back to 5 updates, definitely worth it.
Yes to all! The Grenadiers at Eindhoven wernt really lost just avoided so he still has 5000. Also Tilly can always train more, theyre sinply the biggest blokes he has with Grenades and Axes. The difficulty is getting enough grenades, finding big fellas is easy enough! The east has more in it, that is for sure!
 
Oh
Heheh, yes Italy is wide open after the Protestants win the east, yes we don't care about the French, or any of my other questions/statements?
Oh golly. Yes the eastern Catholics are screwed and so Italy is open. Yes Bradbury will get it and yes we dont care about them (when you enslave 25% of Ireland merely for financial gain you lose sympathy). Yes England is also screwed but thats the next update! Yes Tilly only really wanted Vendee in the west, though Maine would be nice, the main tactic is to keep them on the backfoot until he can negotiate. So genuinely yes to all!
 
Tilly really is a smart cookie, not trying to bite off more than he can chew, focusing on the areas which already have large Catholic populations, writing off those areas already lost, and not seeing this as a crusade
 
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