Pics & History of your Empire

[bamff]

A fitting ending to a truly great series of write ups, Innocentius - truly superlative narrative!

Huzzah for King Joar! Huzzah for Emperor Inge! Long shall we miss further tales of their exploits.

My PC is up and running again, and, it appears with no data loss or other ongoing problems, so here is the latest instalment of my meandering English campaign - though I fear it will be a pallid and colourless tale in comparison to either King Kurt's Almo Adventures or the Tales of King Joar....

Apologies again - whilst it only covers 5 years, it has wound up being rather lengthy due to a combination of a whole bunch of battles and my own verbosity....

The Chronicles of Bamff’s English

Chapter 14 – The Ascendency of William IV (1380 - 1385)
All of Europe is at peace, save that is, for the occasional border skirmish between the peoples of Novgorod and the Finnish rebels in the far north. King Henry II of England surveyed the map that stretched out before him, somewhat absent-mindedly. A close observer would note that the king’s eyes did not focus on the map itself, but rather on his own hands that rested upon the parchment.
The King regarded both hands, noting how his skin was now pale and wrinkled, and how the flesh of his hands and arms sagged from his bones. “Time, you are an insidious foe,” the king mumbled to himself, turning his hand to regard its underside. A bony finger traced along a pink scar that stood out like a beacon on his forearm, a souvenir granted him by a Sardinian archer some years ago.
Without turning, or rising from his seat, he raised his voice so that his son William could hear him. “More foes I have vanquished than there are fingers on these old hands. I have even come through the challenge of video card failures unscathed, and yet, the slow and steady advance of time will ultimately defeat me. You are but young, my son, but one day you too, will face your own mortality.”
A raised hand silenced his son’s protests before the words could even form on his lips.
“My end is approaching, William. This is why I have recalled you from Serbia. Your place will soon be here, at Wessex, and you must prepare yourself. Soon you will be king.”
An uneasy silence followed these words before William spoke.
“Father, you have achieved many great things during your reign. To be regarded as only half the monarch that you have been will be a great compliment. You will long be remembered and revered by our people. Ever have they loved you.”
Henry stood, a little unsteady on his feet. He placed a wrinkled hand on his son’s shoulder. “And I them. Remember that and you will do well, my boy. As monarch you must protect and care for your people, for you are their servant as well as their master. Be fair and just in all of your dealings, but ever mindful that those you are dealing with may not be so.”
Henry drew a somewhat laboured breath “I will retire now, William. I will see you on the morrow.”
Sadly, he would not. King Henry II passed peacefully in his sleep that very night. The year was 1381. After a fitting period of mourning for their beloved King Henry, all of England rejoiced in the coronation of King William IV. None rejoiced more than England’s generals and nobility. Whilst Henry had been at pains to guide his nation into peace, young William had established a reputation of having a “killer instinct” during the Serbian campaign. Unlike his father, William was widely known to believe that the road to greatness was a road of blood and fire. England’s nobles knew that the opportunity for glory and for new lands and titles lay ahead.
They did not have long to wait. In early 1382, William made his first move.
Anxious to begin his reign in spectacular fashion, he petitioned Pope Antonio I, seeking leave to launch a crusade against Constantinople. It was a bold move indeed, as the city of Constantinople was both strongly fortified and heavily garrisoned. The pontiff duly granted his blessing on William’s holy mission, and Sir William Roos was given command of the venture. William had carefully planned his steps, and had instructed Roos to sail for Croatia, a province currently held by England’s enemy, Hungary.
King Kalman II was placed in a perfidious position indeed. Were he to refuse passage to the armies of his enemy, he risked excommunication. Were he to grant passage to England, he may appear to other nations to be weak. He would also run the risk of his garrison in that province being depleted as his men chose to follow the calling of the church to crusade against the followers of the false cross. After careful consideration, Kalman decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and he granted Sir William Roos leave to pass through Croatia. It was to prove the wrong move. As the crusade moved on to Serbia, it took with it a sizeable number of Hungarian troops – and left behind a significant English force under the redoubtable Sir Charles Peckham. Peckham wheeled his troops north-west to Zara Castle, the base long favoured by the Hungarians in Croatia. At the same time, a third English army marched south into Hungary itself.
The Hungarian troops in Hungary apparently had little regard for either their homeland or their manhood. All who were able fled south to Wallachia rather than give battle to the English.
The garrison in Croatia were made of sterner stuff, however, and they marched forth to meet Peckham’s army. The English and Hungarian forces numbered approximately 1,000 men each, with the Hungarians enjoying an ever so slight numerical superiority. As such, the defenders were confident. They had positioned themselves on a gentle hill, which sloped down to a small thicket, no doubt in hopes of concealing their positions from the English. What the Hungarians had achieved, however, was to create a situation whereby the English could close to the Hungarian line without coming under significant fire from archers.
Peckham directed Sir Edward Stafford to take his Turcopoles around the right hand side of the thicket. This they did, and they emerged behind the Hungarian left flank, which comprised one regiment of Bularian Brigands, one of Urban Militia, and one of Handgunners. As the Turcopoles’ arrows rained down on these 3 units from their rear, the Urban Milita withdrew. The Hungarian missile units turned to face their tormentors. At this point, a company of longbowmen and one of arbalesters advanced out of the thicket, and once again the Hungarian missile units found themselves taking fire from their rear.
The Hungarian general sent one unit of Szekely to the aid of his left flank, while another regiment of Urban Militia, and one of Armoured Spearmen marched forward to crush the English archers. The Longbowmen melted back into the cover of the thicket, and as the Hungarian troops moved too close to pull back, they found themselves facing row upon row of billmen and chivalric footknights. Leading the English charge was Sir Charles Scrope and his detachment of footknights, and these valiant Englishmen cut a swathe through their Hungarian counterparts. Adding to the Hungarian woes, they now found their right flank under attack from English Gallowglasses. As the Hungarians pushed forwards in a vain attempt to assist their comrades, Peckham now unleashed his knights, supported by Highland Clansmen, around both the left and right flanks. Peckham himself led the charge around the Hungarian right flank. The Hungarians were now completely surrounded. With their general captured, it is not long before they are more interested in fleeing than staying to face the English onslaught. Of an initial force of 1,156 men, only 482 survive to reach the gates of Zara Castle. 340 Hungarians lie dead on the field, 334 dazed and confused men are now prisoners of Peckham’s army.
Pope Antonio I is furious that William has used a Papal sanctioned crusade to mask his attack on a fellow Catholic nation, and a rider is despatched to Wessex to convey the Pope’s displeasure. Pope Antonio’s message instructs William to withdraw all English forces from Hungarian lands within 2 years and to refrain from any further aggression for 10 years.
William reponds to the Papal rebuke by sending his own messenger to assure the Pope that all English troops would be on English territory by the end of 1384.
As the emissary leaves, the king smiles to his assembled generals “Of course, Hungary is already an English province, and by this time next year, so too will Croatia!”
Sir Charles Peckham duly delivers Croatia, following a bloody assault on Zara Castle.
William’s attention has now turned northwards, to the rebel province of Finland. Sir Thomas Camoys, widely known to be a “skilled attacker” has been despatched to bring the rebels to heel and to secure the province for the realm. The Finnish army is impressively large, but poorly equipped and disciplined. Almost all of the Finnish troops are Urban Militia or Peasants. These troops have little hope against a modern army, but they are fighting for their homeland and their liberty.
Sadly for the Finns, raw courage counts for little in the face of cold steel and discipline. They are slaughtered by the hundred. As the Finnish army was entirely comprised of commoners, the heralds do not even bother to count the dead, but estimates of those present on the day put the toll somewhere between 600 and 700 dead. 56 Englishmen die for their king on those cold northern fields.
Meanwhile in the south, King Kalman II of Hungary is apoplectic with rage that the English have escaped Papal sanction through their swift action. He has gathered an army of some 2,890 men, and marches north to reclaim the Hungarian heartlands. Sir Nigel De Vere has but 2,101 men with which to meet this threat – but he is a very able general indeed. He had picked a gentle slope facing a large open plain to make his stand. De Vere had surveyed the terrain well, and was reasonably sure of the direction from which the Hungarians would come. He surveyed his line again, as the sounds of the approaching Hungarian force grew ever louder. He had set 3 regiments of pikemen as the centre of his line, with billmen on either flank. Behind the units of billmen were highland clansmen and royal knights on the left flank, and gallowglasses and royal knights on the right. To the rear of the pikes, and slightly further up the slope as a result, stood arbalesters and longbowmen. His gaze drifted again the the Scots and then to the Irishmen. An unruly bunch, to be sure, but magnificent fighting men. They would earn their keep today, he mused, as the blare of Hungarian horns grew louder still.
The Hungarians advanced across the plain. Truly they were a sight to behold, but the English line stood firm. King Kalman chose to inspire his troops by leading the charge himself, with two squadrons of royal knights flanking his own royal guard. On the Hungarian left was a regiment of armoured spearmen, on the right a regiment of feudal sergeants. Curiously all were driving straight at the centre of the English line.
Those knights that survived the hail of arbalest bolts and arrows that rained down upon them soon found themselves faced with the impossible task of fighting their way through the English pikes. Their task was made even more complicated as the flanking spearmen attempted to assist them, as together with the Jobbagy that followed, they simply served to restrict the knights movement.
De Vere’s battle plan could not have been followed more closely by Kalman had he written it himself! With the entire Hungarian force now pinned in the English centre, De Vere ordered his billmen, clansnsmen, and gallowglasses to close in from the sides, whilst the knights rode around to the Hungarian rear. The carnage that followed was dreadful to behold. Many Hungarians were most likely trampled underfoot by their own side. As the first Hungarian wave is crushed mercilessly, Kalman somehow extricates himself from the crush at the front of the Hungarian force, and he flees the field as would a whipped dog.
The second Hungarian assault fares no better than the first, nor does the third. As the dust of battle clears in the early evening, some 1,059 Hungarian corpses litter the field. 686 Hungarian prisoners gloomily await their fate. De Vere, by comparison, has lost but 273 men. Hungary remains under the dominion of England.
By 1385, the English crusaders had arrived in Constantinople. A second English force has marched on Bulgaria, and stands ready to meet the Byzantine defenders of that province.
The first 4 years of William IV’s reign had been amongst the bloodiest of England’s history – and it would appear that this ambitious young king was far from finished….