Schratcherbach, the Last!

'No, not really, my lord. I just made it up. For some dramatic tension'.
'What?' says the Burgrave testily. 'So what actually happened?'

'Well', says Rumpfler, 'let me show you'. He looks at the report and then orders the gardeners to get some wheelbarrows and shovels. Under his direction, the servants begin shovelling miniatures into the barrows and carting them off (below).

'If one were the Rotenburg commander', says Rumpfler, 'then one might take heart from the complete destruction of the enemy artillery: artillery that it turns out were really quite popular with the rest of the Bachscuttel army.

'Dead artillerymen. That always makes me feel good', says Fitzbuttress.

'And also, whilst the right wing infantry were broken, so too was one of the critical Bachscuttel units in the centre of Barry-Eylund's position. Bachscuttel morale, which had been high, suddenly lurched alarmingly downwards, like King Wilhelm trying to find his knees'.

'And on the Rotenburg left?' asks Colonel Fitzbuttress.

Rumpfler loudly orders the Gardeners to procure more wheelbarrows. Lots more wheelbarrows.

'Things there did not go quite so well', says the general.

'"Quite so well"', says Fitzbuttress. 'That could cover quite a multitude of conditions. So, let's say that we were using the metaphor of a ship. By "quite so well", do we mean that the Rotenburg ship had suffered some considerable damage, but was still seaworthy and up for a fight? Or do we mean that it was badly holed, probably below the line, and was in the process gently of sinking?'

Rumpfler considers this. 'Colonel, I think that if the Rotenburg army were indeed a ship, then it was a vessel that had been eaten whole by a whale; digested for a while; and was then in the process of being noisily excreted'.

(Below) 'But', says Faltaire gesturing at the little field of battle, 'things don't look so bad. The other Rotenburg troops seem just to have been pushed back.'

'No', says Rumpfler. 'The difficulty was that those defeated Rotenburg troops were in such a poor state of order that the Bachscuttel volleys that came soon after routed them both'. Rumpfler gesticulates vigorously. The gardeners apply themselves assiduously to shovelling Rotenburg troops into wheelbarrows and carrying them off.

(Below) 'And so, with only five regiments of infantry left, mostly conscripts, and a frontline of only one unit, the Rotenburg commander deemed it expedient to offer the honours of war. Barry-Eylund, who no doubt faints at the sight of blood, was only too willing to agree. The battle was over, and the Rotenburgers commenced an orderly withdrawal'.

The burgrave grimaces. 'Well, a victory for our Bachscuttel ally - what a dismal turn of events'.

'Alas, my lord, it is even worse than that!'
'Really?'
'Yes - for though our allies won this battle, the victory was not sufficient to overturn the result of the conflict as a whole. We have lost the war! The forces of the Vulgarian Convention have triumphed!'
'Woe! Woe!' cries the Burgrave. 'Woe! Thrice woe, and bugger it! And now we are left exposed to the revenge of the victors! The political greed of the Fenwickians! The appetite of Rotenburg! The strange sweatiness of the Vulgarians! What of my state? And what of my people!' Falco sinks to his knees. 'Fire! Hunger! Pillage! Ravaging! Rummaging! Inappropriate handling! We ... ow! Actually, this is terribly painful - lift me up!' The colonel and general rush forwards and lift the Burgrave to his feet.
'Excellent! Much better!' says the Burgrave. 'Now, what was I saying?'
'You were enumerating the likely sufferings of your people, my lord' says Faltaire.
'Yes, yes, super. Now I'm a bit peckish - what's for luncheon?'
'Salmon encroute, boar and redcurrants, ham in aspic, sausages and stuffed goose', replies Faltaire.
'Lovely', says the Burgrave, 'Let us return to the palace'.
'And I'll leave it until later, sir', continues Faltaire, as the royal party wanders back, 'for you to guess what the main courses and deserts might be'. 

Schratcherbach, the Third!

'I believe, my Lady, that you might not have long to wait for your refreshments', says General Rumpfler. 'For the report here makes clear that the Rotenburgers recognised the importance of this opportunity and resolved to exploit it with a massive bayonet charge all along the line'.
'Splendid', says Colonel Fitzbuttress. 'I dislike it when generals shilly-shally, wasting time with marches, manoeuvres, operational art and such'.

'No shilly-shallying here', says the general. 'Only cutty-cutty. The whole front line - four battalions - pushed forwards with cries of "For the King!" The other battalions advanced in support' (below).

'And what of the Bachscuttelers, in all of their disorder?' asks Fitzbuttress.

Rumpfler surveys the report. 'Their troops also cried "For the King!"', he then says.

'Oooh', says the Burgravina, 'The Rotenburg commander couldn't have been very pleased by that unfortunate turn of events'.

'No he wasn't', says the general. 'He said some very naughty words. So it turned out that, in the crucial combat, both sides would ignore there respective disorders'.

'A desperate enterprise', says the Burgrave.
'Indeed', interjects the Burgravina. 'I suspect that the Rotenburg commander would at this juncture wish to use his own dice'.

(Below) The royal party continues to survey the developing situation.

'And Barry-Eylund's response?' asks Faltaire. 'Was he perturbed by the Rotenburg show of grit and aggression?' 



'He soiled his britches', says the general. 'Then he mewed pathetically like a kitten, before dropping his trousers and running around his headquarters shouting "I'm a little pig! Look at my curly pink tail!'

The remainder of the party look at one another.

'Are you sure that that is what the report says, my good Rumpler?' says the Burgrave.

'I might have embellished matters a little, sir'.

'So how much of what you just said is actually an accurate account of what Barry-Eylund did?'

'Approximately none of it, my lord. But, you know, it's exactly the sort of thing that he would do, believe me'.

'Hmmm', says the Burgrave. 'Well, moving on, it would seem that this really might be the decisive encounter in this battle. Let us then go forwards and survey in more detail the situation'. The royal party makes its way slowly down the slope towards the Rotenburg right wing (below).



'So', says General Rumpler. 'These purple figurines represent Rotenburg mercenaries. Though badly disordered, this condition will be ignored for this combat, as it will for all the other troops of both sides'.

The Burgrave nods. 'And their opposition? Has Lady Luck determined that they are opium-raddled adolescent badger-fodder, fresh from the risible training grounds of Bachscuttel?'

'They are a Bachscuttel guard regiment, my lord'.

'Hmmm. Ho hum. Well, bad for the mercenaries, but I suppose it will save the Rotenburgers paying them'.

'My thoughts exactly'.

'And further along?' asks Faltaire.

'Rotenburg regulars' answers Rumpfler. 'Attacking up hill' (below).

'They face a battery of artillery' continues the general.

'Lovely', says Fitzbuttress. 'And the enemy musketeers? Dare I suppose that they are a team of lady eclair makers, brutally conscripted and thrust untrained into the line by our immoral Bachscuttel allies?

'The Bachscuttel regiment is composed of elite troops, colonel'.

'Well, that's a disappointment'.

'Are circumstances more propitious in the left-hand portion of this combat?' asks Faltaire.

The general nods (below). 'The third Rotenburg regiment is also composed of regulars. Though it must also attack up hill, one of its adversaries is a battery of disordered artillery'.

'I love bayoneting disordered artillery', says Fitzbuttress.

Rumpfler nods. 'All professional soldiers love bayoneting disordered artillery. It is one of those things that makes getting up in the morning worthwhile. Sadly, though, the infantry that the Rotenburgers face are of elite quality'.

'How tedious of Barry-Eylund'.

'At the end of the line, we have some Rotenburg conscripts', reads Rumpfler. 

'And the opposition?' asks the Burgrave.

'The other regiment of Bachscuttel guards, my lord'.

'I hope those conscripts are optimists', says Faltaire. 'And that they have taken out some form of injury insurance'.

The Burgrave frowns. 'Rotenburg success seems very much against the odds. I hesitate to ask, general - but what was the result of this brave attack?'

'A sensational Rotenburg success, my lord!'

'Really!' says the Burgrave, flabbergasted ...

Schratcherbach, the Second!

'Well, Sir, sirs, my Lady, and my lady', comments Rumpfler, looking at the report of the Battle of Schratcherbach, 'the opening moves of this encounter should place no great strain on the servants'. He directs a gardener to set some fires in front of the Rotenburg artillery (below).

'It would seem that the Rotenburg army settled in to a prolonged cannonade of the Bachscuttel postion', he says.

'Really?' says Colonel Fitzbuttress. 'Why? Were they short of smoke? Did they need some loud noises to keep them awake? Surely', and here he shrugs incredulously, 'they can't have thought that it would do any damage to the enemy?'

Rumpfler nods. 'In fairness, it would seem that the Rotenburg plan was to spend time accumulating the stratagems necessary to maximise the chances of success in their assault'.

'It is a most valid approach', says Faltaire. 'For by doing so one can accumulate many important advantages'.

'Quite so, says Rumpfler. 'One can never create enough opportunities to inflict confusion upon the enemy, or to help them to discover that there is something out there that was not on their map. In any case, our floppy Bachsuttel ally, General Barry-Eylund, exhibited his usual dynamism by sitting passively on the defensive. For a good while, apparently, the battle consisted of nothing more than an exchange of artillery fire' (below).

'Surely', says the Burgravina pointing at the woods, 'Barry-Eylund could put the Bachscuttel irregulars to some use?'

'Aha ha ha ha ha ha!' guffaws Rumpfler, before, having caught the Burgrave's eye, he turns his laughing into a polite cough. 'How like the gentler sex to see the best in dumb animals. No, my Lady, the irregulars are in the woods mainly to keep the badgers away. Even Barry-Eylund wouldn't waste his time trying to manoeuvre them'.

Rumpfler dries his eyes. 'In any case, as it turned out, the Bachscuttel gunners were rather more effective than anyone could have supposed, inflicting some disorder on two of the Rotenburg regiments'.  Rumpfler begins giving a stream of orders to the gardeners. (Below) The servants begin pushing forwards the Rotenburg infantry - the attack has commenced. Rumpfler gestures to the serried ranks. 'Behold! Clearly having acquired whatever strategies were deemed necessary, the Rotenburgers then commenced a vigorous forward movement!' 

The Rotenburgers are pushed closer and closer to the Bachscuttel line.

'Oooh, look at all your little men!' says the Burgravina.
Rumpfler winces. 'Madame, these are not "little men". The are finely crafted military miniatures!'

'Of men', says the Burgravina, 'rendered little. And, to be fair general - you do use them to play games do you not?'

'Serious games! Contests! Intense clashes of will and intellect! Competitions with intellectual heft!'

'Speaking of heft', says the Burgrave, interrupting, 'look at the size of those!'. 

 (Above) 'What large dice', says Colonel Fitzbuttress. 'That must make them quite difficult to roll'.
'Yes, colonel - that is undeniably true', says Faltaire. 'But we found it preferable to provide these. Otherwise, participants in our games of war had a tendency to bring their own dice, as well as a variety of excuses as to why those dice tended to produce so many sixes. Also, at least with these dice one has to give them a mighty hurl in order to roll them. With ordinary dice, our fellows seemed when it came to dice to define the word 'roll' as 'to slide'; or 'to drop'; or 'to gently tip'; or even 'to shout "look over there" whilst placing them'.
'I wager that this big pair would require a mighty toss', 

'Where's a Fenwickian when you need him', whispers Rumpfler.

'And so', says the general more loudly, 'the attacking Rotenburgers reached musket range!' (Above) He casts his eyes over the report. 'And what a surprise faced General Barry-Eylund. For, just as his troops were levelling their muskets for a devastating volley, the attacking forces stole first fire!'

'Hurrah!' says Faltaire.

'To be fair', says the Burgrave, 'the Rotenburgers are our enemies. Although', he continues, 'I can't help feeling that with an ally like Bachscuttel, who needs enemies?'

'Well', says Rumpfler, 'things were rather disappointing for the Rotenburgers. What with the sudden appearance of some thick smoke, their first fire had little effect. Instead, the combat devolved into an extended exchange of musktry. The Rotenburg advantage in their 'lethal volley' doctrine was counterbalanced by canister from the defending emplaced artillery'.

'Boo!' says Faltaire.

'Indeed', says Rumpfler. 'Worse, on the Rotenburg right, their troops faced superior firepower. Musketry and canister poured into the units there, and first one unit, and then another, were routed! Soon, the third line had become the first line.' (Above)

(Below) 'Desperately', says Rumpfler, 'the Rotenburgers continued firing, hoping for a breakthrough. And then, Fate smiled upon them; or at least, gave them them a playful lick on the nose! Barry-Eylund's attempts at rallying fell flat, leaving the centre two of his frontline units in significant disorder! Moreover, the Rotenburgers had in their arsenal 'For the King!', a stratagem that would temporarily throw off all of their own disorders! "What should be done?" the Rotenburg general no doubt asked himself?'

'Totes obvs', says Fitzbuttress, nodding his head.
The others look at him.
'Is that Latin?' asks the Burgrave.
'Oh no, sir: no indeed not', replies the colonel. 'Rather, it is a phrase used by many of the young in England to denote that something is quite obvious or self-evident. It is vernacular. It has had long use I am led to believe and no doubt has its roots in certain works of English literature that I am not wholly knowledgeable of''.
'Is it from Shakespeare, perhaps' asks Faltaire.
'Oh, no', laughs the colonel, 'no, no, no. Christopher Marlowe, probably. Anyway, I should think that the situation here presents a perfect opportunity for a bayonet charge!'

'Or some coffee and a sit down', says the Burgravina.

Schratcherbach, the First!

Wherein the Army of the Landgravate of Hesse-Rotenburg-Schillingsfurst, commanded by someone who is not Furst Augustus Saxe-Peste, encounters the Army of the Palatinate of Saukopf-Bachscuttel, commanded by General Redmond Barry-Eylund.

'What!' says Burgrave Falco of Nabstria in surprise.
'It is so, sir' replies General Heironymous von Rumpfler, commander of the Nabstrian Army. He strides purposefully around the council chamber waving a report. 'Our Bachscuttel allies have fought a battle! Indeed, most assuredly the last battle of the current war'.
'Amidst this pestilence?'
'Indeed, sir - even so'.
'Well, this is extraordinary! Read out the report, General. Let us hear of the outcomes!'
'Ooh, ooh, my lord' interjects Monsieur Faltaire, the noted French thinker, who is now in the Burgrave’s pay and who engages the Buggrave in discourse concerning the latest philosophies, 'I have an even better idea!'
'It's not the one about crossing a frog with an elephant is it?' asks Rumpfler. 'Because, as I've said many times dear Faltaire, that idea will just create some very big holes around the garden'.
'Indeed no, general. But I thought that, rather than telling us about the battle, you could show us how the encounter unfolded using our fine collection of finely crafted military miniatures'.

Faltaire's innovation in the field of games of war has already been commented upon in this publication. Though other states in Mittelheim have perhaps been less enamoured with the idea, Nabstria has created quite a collection of miniature soldiers for the training of its officers. The amount of time that they spend in disputing the rules and arguing about the relative merits of the first and second editions is, surely, a fabrication by Nabstria's enemies.
'What a splendid idea!' says the Burgrave. 'Faltaire, organise the servants! Prepare refreshments! Then, let us repair to the gardens where you, general, shall enlighten us as to the course of events!'
'Excellent, sir', says Rumpfler enthusiastically. 'I can't think of anything I'd rather do right now than fight battles with model soldiers!'

'I can think of almost anything I'd rather do now than this', says Burgravina Ekatarina der Ampfel zu Strudelheim, Falco's wife, evincing the reflexive signs of boredom that manifest strangely in all women in the proximity of toy soldiers. (Below) The Burgravina, in fetching pink and blue, stands in the garden with the Burgave, Faltaire, Rumpfler, and Colonel Sir Mallileu Fitzbuttress: late of His Majesty’s Horse Guards and British liaison officer to the Nabstrian Court.

The Burgrave watches servants scurrying to and fro across one of the meadows adjacent to his gardens. 
'So, General - you say that Furst Augustus wasn't in command of the Landgravate's forces at this encounter at the village of Schratcherbach?'
'Apparently not, my lord. Having returned to the capital, and with the threat of the current pestilence, he was not there when the Bachscuttel army appeared. Instead, the Rotenburgers were led by an ambitious subordinate who no doubt has eyes on Saxe-Peste's position'.

(Below) Gardeners and other servants begin the process of placing the military miniatures in the positions marked on the report.

'Hmmm' says Rumpfler to the Burgrave, 'I see that Barry-Eylund outscouted the Rotenburgers and unsurprisngly determined to sit on the defence'.

'Is he known for this, good general?' asks Faltaire.

'Oh yes', replies Rumpfler. 'It's all he's got. And the tighter he can wedge himself in, the better he feels'.

'The terrain as yet seems rather uncluttered', says the Burgrave.

'Indeed yes, my lord', the general replies. 'But just you wait. Any minute now and the gardeners will start putting down forests, marshes, streams, thick jungle, ice floes, and deep pools of treacle. Our Bachscuttel ally is incapable of deploying in the open. They are only happy when they are wedged in tighter than something that is wedged in really quite tightly but which, rather embarrassingly, seems easily removed by one's wife'. 

'The evidence indicates that four of the eight Bachscuttel infantry regiments were composed of conscripts. And their cavalry wasn't in good conditon either', says Rumpfler looking at the report. 'It would seem that Barry-Eylund, standing on the defensive, put his artillery into gabions and deployed in two lines of four regiments, his four good units to the front. His cavalry were to the rear to keep them out of the way'.

(Below) Gardners lay out the deployment of the forces of the Landgravate. Rumpler continues reading from the report. 'The Rotenbergers too had many conscripts in their ranks. Like the Bachscuttlers, they deployed with the better troops to the front, and the less well-trained to the rear. Three lines of infantry all told'. The servants continue to work for a short while and soon, the deployment of the miniatures seems complete.

'Aha!', says Faltaire. 'I see that finally they have arrayed the respective forces!'

The royal party surveys the handiwork of the servants. The finely crafted military miniatures are laid out in representation of the dispositions of the forces.

'Marvellous detail on the miniatures', says Rumpfler. 'Collecting, organising, and painting them has been a significant and serious task'.

'Look at all of the little toys!' squeals the Burgravina delightedly. 'How you men must enjoy wasting your days playing with them!'

'Indeed no, your ladyship!' says the general quickly, unconsciously lowering the timbre of his voice to make it seem more masculine. 'These are not toys. Certainly not. No, no, no. This is a serious and manly activity and not at all a sad and expensive waste of a gentleman's life. But I think', he continues with a knowing nod to the Burgrave, 'that its complexity, studiousness, and consequential importance would not be so obvious to those of the gentler sex'.

The Burgravina nods, peering at the figures laid out on the lawn. 'I see that our Bachscuttel allies occupied a strong position. Surprisingly, they kept their front clear of obstacles, leading to quite an open battlefield. Their centre is upon a hill; their flanks well covered by woods. Light troops in each of the respective copses are in position to threaten the Rotenburg flanks if the Landgravate's forces advance on too narrow a front'.

Rumpfler looks surprised. 'Light troops!' he blusters. 'Flanks!'

'The Rotenburg cavalry are well up on the right', continues the Burgravina thoughtfully. 'I suspect, then, that the forces of the Landgravate intend a frontal infantry assault upon our allies, perhaps with the cavalry ready to exploit any breakthroughs?'

'Er, perhaps', says Rumpfler. 'It's, ah, not impossible. Hmmm, embroidery lessons cover a much wider range of topics than they used to in my day. Anyway, we'll see won't we, my lady. Now, this is how the battle unfolded ...'