REALM OF THE FAERY

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

FAERY HOME III

It took General Winston a full day before his scouts returned with the location of the highlander's army. They reported that the army had gone into camp and seemed to be celebrating their victories. The scouts had gotten close enough to report a lot of singing, drinking and dancing with women in camp.

Winston chortled at the undisciplined mob they were calling an army. The scouts never realized that they'd been spotted leaving the Albionese camp and tracked all the way. They had reported back, exactly what General MacLeod wanted them to see. Winston's overconfidence led him to buy into MacLeod's ruse.

As soon as the Albionese scouts were out of sight, on their way to report. The women were sent back and the men began furiously digging rifle pits (Foxholes)and lining them with logs. Caltrops were built and scattered in the long grass well ahead of their positions. That done the men were fed and sent to bed, although strong pickets both foot and mounted were put out.

It was a day and a half's march from Winston's camp to the battlefield almost all of it uphill. His men tired easily, carrying their heavy packs.

They went into camp about three o'clock on the second day, needing a rest. These were flatland city dwellers for the most part. Not accustomed to the higher elevations and the thick brush of parts of the highlands. The morning of the third day, the Albionese army as arrayed in the full panoply of war. Winston's headquarters set up in two large tents with his personal flag set up outside his tent. Each regiment with their own colors flying.

The two remaining cavalry squadrons paraded, one of them the most traditional (and useless in this terrain) lancers. Officers flourishing their sabers. The infantry dressing their ranks. The artillery was moving up, not yet in range.

General MacLeod had chosen his position well. The moor ahead of them was mostly grass clear of gorse or heather until right up within a few yards of their position. The position was backed by forest, offering shade for their tents and obscuring their numbers. The terrain to their front was a medium slope, making the enemy advance more tiring.

Rick and Major O'Dell sited the eight Parrots in masked battery, a screen of cut brush in front of the guns. The others in plain view.

The enemy artillery was still unlimbering, believing themselves to be out of effective range of the "unskilled militia" artillery. Rick was observing the enemy through his telescope.

"Major O'Dell, you may unmask and fire when you are ready. Load with explosive shell. Target crews and caissons rather than the guns.

"Yes sir." The screen came down and all eight guns fired as one. The grueling practice paid off. All eight shells exploded in the air killing or wounding twenty men and setting off one caisson. The Albionese artillerymen were in shock. Their only experience with explosive shells was with heavy mortars and the guns firing were clearly field guns.

The Parrot battery fired twice more before any of the enemy guns even fired and they were out of range. You had to give the enemy artillery credit for determination and courage, if not intelligence. Even under the lash of fire they moved some of their guns into what was long range for them. Of course, that brought them into range of the rest of O'Dell's batteries.

"Major O'Dell, have Captain Carson shift targets, Four ammunition wagons. Two hundred yards behind the gun line. Two of the four were hit with the first volley. One blowing up and the other catching fire and it would explode in less than a minute. One of the others had its' draft animals killed and couldn't be moved before it too, was hit. The fourth managed to escape but went further to the rear, away from where it was needed.

Sited at a higher elevation than the Albionese cannon, O'Dell's batteries enjoyed a greater range and being east of the Albionese, the enemy gunners had the sun in their eyes.

After about ten volleys, Rick said;

"Major O'Dell, switch to solid shot. Target the guns. Two volleys accounted for six guns dismounted and the carriages destroyed. In an hour- long artillery duel, Albion saw fourteen of its guns completely destroyed or severely damaged and well over one hundred artillerymen killed or severely wounded. Culloden only lost two cannons. The enemy artillery commander withdrew his guns, to save what was left of them

General Winston was in too much of a rage to be sensible.

'By God, gentlemen, I will not order a withdrawal. Colonel Grayson, withdraw your guns and repair what you can. I can't believe that these militia dogs can keep up this level of performance. We'll rest today and attack again tomorrow.

Rick and General MacLeod hatched a plan. Tired soldiers don't fight well. They waited for nightfall, then moved a couple of the smoothbore cannon closer to the enemy camp and sent one ball into the camp, every fifteen minutes. The guns were guarded by Royal Guardsmen. Parties sent out to silence the guns, didn't return.

To add insult to injury bagpipers played the eeriest tunes they could, further disrupting the enemy's sleep. At about four in the morning when the human body is at its' lowest ebb, guards were overpowered and about half the horse herd was run off, including General Winston's personal mount. The haggard General was not making good decisions the next day, Fatigue, frustration and sheer bull headedness are a recipe for disaster. General Winston looked like hell. His normally ruddy face was pallid and he had bags under his eyes. He was even angrier than he was the night before.

"Colonel Grayson, move your guns into position. Those damn kilties can't have much powder and shot left. Nor more than twelve guns left."

"Sir, I protest. They had unbelievable accuracy yesterday."

"I do not care to hear your excuses, Colonel. Move your guns!"

"I have a plan. I want to destroy six or eight more of their guns, Rick said. Then rig some charges in front of our guns. I want the enemy to figure he's silenced our guns Then he'll try to hit our troop concentrations We keep the troops moving, not giving the enemy any clear targets. When he realizes he's wasting ammunition I believe that he'll commit his cavalry first, then follow with his infantry. Rick's plan was followed. They d8idn't get quite the number he'd hoped for, but five more enemy cannons were destroyed. Then the fake charges employed. Rick's command took shelter in a shallow ravine just behind a low ridge, completely out of sight of the enemy Except for the riflemen hidden in the rifle pits. General MacLeod began shifting his troops rapidly. The enemy couldn't rapidly shift fire because of their rather cumbersome carriages. MacLeod's men took some causalities but not many, certainly not as many as if he had adhered to the old tactics. Finally, after about one hundred rounds fired, they were running low on powder. General Winston ordered them to cease fire, temporarily and save the powder for grapeshot and cannister.

Since half the horse herd was gone, Winston dismounted the lancers and since their other arms were pistols, he held them in camp as a reserve.

He detached one troop of the light cavalry as his personal guard and sent the rest forward. This time with orders to proceed more cautiously but be ready to charge on signal. The mounted scouts moving ahead of the squadron, were the first to encounter the caltrops. The horses stumbling as the prongs pierced their hooves. Then the riflemen popped up out of their pits and opened fire. The snipers targeting the officers and senior noncommissioned officers. The squadron was in turmoil, as they were trying to reform, the Cullodian cavalry struck hard from the flank, firing pistols and carbines at point blank range. The survivors broke and fled to the rear; no fight left in them. Still," Winston's stubbornness held.

"Musket and bayonet and good stout hearts will win the day.". The Albionese army was a grand sight marching forward with flags flying and the drummers beating out the cadence. The colonels, mounted at the heads of their regiments.

Rick and General MacLeod both knew that despite the losses they'd inflicted they still weren't at parity with the enemy, in numbers. They would have to hit them hard, before they deployed from column into line.

Rick shook his head. It was a grand sight and a tragic one. Once again, the snipers were instructed to target officers. At a thousand yards, the Parrot battery unmasked and all eight guns fired at the enemy's exposed artillery The exploding shells devastating the gun crews. Four more volleys destroyed four enemy cannon and it was more than even brave men could take. The gun crews abandoned their guns and ran. Colonel Grayson couldn.t blame them. The accuracy of the Cullodian guns was uncanny. Of the thirty-two guns he'd started out with, only ten were still functional and it now appeared that the majority of the enemy guns were.

Despite losing most of his cavalry and having his artillery put out of action, General Winston had a severe case of tunnel vision,

He ordered the infantry forward. The enemy was in plain view. Close, volley and charge. Those tactics had always worked before.

Troops were easier to control in column than line, the Albionese traditionally stopped at four hundred yards to deploy from column into line.

At eight hundred yards the Cullodian smoothbore artillery poured cannonballs into the massed ranks of the Albionese infantry. Hitting the ground at a shallow angle skipping the balls along the ground. scores of men went down, like bowling pins, killed or wounded. They closed ranks and came on.

At five hundred yards the entire first and second ranks of the Cullodian army fired a volley. The standing men firing over the heads of their kneeling comrades. The riflemen in the pits also opened fire. At that range individual targets couldn't be picked out but in that mass of men most bullets found a target.

At four hundred yards, the artillery switched to case shot, cannister and grapeshot

At three hundred yards the snipers took out more than fifty officers. Not being first class troops to begin with, the Albionese morale decayed rapidly. They didn't know how to react as the Cullodians began to advance. They just didn't do as they were expected to. They wouldn't stand still and be convenient targets. Half of them delivered deadly accurate fire, from cover while the other half advanced. Some of them reloading on the move. Something that it was difficult for a man with a muzzle-loader to do.

The leading regiment saw all of its officers and a large number of its' non-coms go down as did three color bearers.

Both sides had now fully deployed. The Albionese were unable to close to their favored one hundred yards to volley and charge. Worse, the Cullodian troops would not stand still in one mass, constantly shifting, yet still retaining their formations. Still, the Cullodians were taking causalities. They, however were inflicting three or four for every one they took. The Albionese advance stalled

After about an hour of hard fighting Rick said;

"Let's cut the head off this snake. Runner, take this message to Major O'Dell. He quickly wrote.

Major O'Dell, set all your Parrots to target the Albionese field headquarters I want to eliminate the General and his staff. That should take the fight out of the Sassanach bastards. Range estimate is one thousand five-hundred yards. Fire when ready. Castle.

General Winston was sitting on his horse, watching the battle through his telescope, cursing as his advance halted at what he guessed was two to three hundred yards from the enemy.

"Damn their eyes, he cursed. They are just facing raggedy-assed militia. If those officers don't get their troops moving, I'll have their guts for garters!"

When he heard the rumbling whistle, it was far too late. Eight shells exploded close around him his horse screamed as it fell. He barely rolled clear, but landed hard, breaking his left arm. He watched in horror as Brigadier Clarence, his executive officer had his torso shredded by shrapnel. One shell burst in his personal tent, setting it afire. He had barely regained enough strength to struggle to his feet, when a second salvo arrived. He felt a searing pain in his left thigh as he fell to the ground, again, in shock, he didn't feel much pain and never really would. His femoral artery had been severed. He was dead, three minutes later.

It had taken sergeant Gerald Wallace several hours to get within three-hundred yards of the Albionese camp. He had hoped to take out the general, but artillery took care of that. He waited, patiently under a gorse bush, his green cloak blending with the bush and the grass. He watched as the surviving horses and troopers of the general's personal guard milled around in confusion until one bellowing officer took charge. It was Colonel Glenfield, the chief of staff. He had just about restored some kind of order, when Sergeant Wallace promptly shot and killed him. Confusion retuned. Sergeant Wallace crawled for two hundred yards, then took cover in a small stand of firs to wait for dark.

The fighting had come to a standstill as each side rested for a few minutes before the fighting resumed.

A messenger came up to General MacLeod.

"Sir, there's a courier coming from the enemy camp, carrying a flag of truce." The courier first stopped within enemy lines, then proceeded to approach, accompanied by a senior officer. He halted a few feet away from where General MacLeod and Colonel Castle sat on their horses.

"I am Brigadier Dowd of the Cheshire Brigade. General Winston and Brigadier Clarence have been killed. All of our forces have suffered heavy losses. I propose a truce, we will withdraw to our camp and await further orders."

"I will allow you a truce of five days. At the end of that time, I propose to move upon your position unless we have come to terms. You may withdraw your men, but your artillery abandoned their guns on the field. They are now ours, as prizes of war."

The Albionese withdrew to their camp, taking their dead and wounded with them as he Cullodians recovered their own.

The defeat of the Albionese force caused an uproar in parliament. Never popular, after two losses, the offensive had been approved by only three votes. The prime minister called for a vote.

The minister of war was ordered to issue the surrender orders. King William, as greedy as he was, was not stupid. He knew that he was not a popular king. If he tried to override parliament on this issue, he could very well lose his throne. He let the surrender orders stand.

Five days later, Brigadier Dowd met with General MacLeod.

"General we have lost a significant part of our army with no appreciable gain. We are ordered to surrender. What are your terms?"

"First you must surrender your arms to us. Officers my keep their sidearms. Your men may keep one musket in twenty for protection.

All prisoners will be released and must leave with the rest of you. Officers may keep their horses but all other ranks surrender theirs.

You must withdraw all the way to London. Any of your men left on Cullodian soil, will be considered spies and dealt with, according to the articles of war. You would be well to advise the minister of war, that we are not the only Celts, we will send messages to the Cymru, to Eire to the Bretons. Then what will you do? Take this message back to your king.

We do not want war, but we will not be subject to a foreign king. We have now defeated three invasions from Albion. There shall be no more, lest we ally all the Celts and march on London."

Brigadier Dowd said;

"Sir, in the name of the crown I accept the terms. We are surrendered. Here is my sword, Sir." The sword was accepted as a formality and then returned, via the terms allowing officers to keep their sidearms. The two parties then adjourned to General MacLeod's tent, where the surrender documents were signed.

The army remained in the field for two weeks, making sure that the Albionese kept to the terms of the surrender.

After the militia was released, there was a meeting. Included were the queen and her consort, the privy council, General MacLeod and Colonel Castle.

Rick spoke.

"As distasteful as this may be to you all, after the recent events, I think that we need to create a professional force. We may not always have the luxury of plenty of warning of an attack. I doubt if Albion will try again, but I can't be sure of that. It need not be overly large, but the nucleus around which the militia can rally. This is what I propose.

First the Royal Guard have two more companies added to increase it to battalion size." He paused to take a drink of water.

"Second we recruit a brigade size force. Two regiments of Infantry, a squadron of cavalry and a battalion of artillery. Most of the men can be recruited from the existing militia battalions. The squadron of cavalry already exists as does the majority of the artillery battalion. I suggest that the Royal Guard uniform be the basis of the brigade's uniform.

I also suggest that we contract with Prussia to produce hammers and nipples to convert our flintlock rifles to percussion. That could be done on the basis of one hundred rifles per month. Our own gunsmiths could handle the conversions easily. Since it's just a matter of replacing the hammer and drilling out the flash hole, tapping it and installing the nipple. As for the militia, each man can pay for his own conversion or buy a cap lock rifle from Prussia or France.

Over time, we could replace the regular's rifles with Sharpe's. We could give a sample to Faery Italy. They already have a robust arms industry."

"Who would command the regular force, you Colonel?" The queen asked.

"No, Your Majesty. I have promised my wife that I would not. I propose Major Walker of the First Cullodian be promoted colonel and be appointed brigade commander if this is approved."

"Thank you, Colonel. We will take this matter under advisement. Please hold yourself ready to answer any questions we may have."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Needless to say, over the next month, Rick was kept very busy, answering the hundreds of questions posed to him, but at the end of the month, the Royal Culloden Regular Brigade was formed, Colonel Cameron Walker commanding.

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