Merkenwig, the Third!

Like a slow tide of thistle porridge, the Wurstburp clansmen flow forwards (below). They have in the main dispensed with firearms. This is for cultural reasons: in Scotland, most combat is conducted with broken bottles in that period after the taverns have shut. However, the Jacobite infantry have discovered that longswords and shields are even better than bottles at dispatching enemies, even if they are more difficult to smuggle into a bar. Because of this, they will no doubt prove to be tough fellows in hand-to-hand combat. 

Seeing the mass of enemy infantry advancing, the Kurlandian artillery is ordered to open fire (below). There is no good military reason for this, of course. Experience in Mittelheim has indicated that artillery has the same battlefield effectiveness as mild double entendre - although the balls are larger.

One interesting development, however, is that there is a notable lack of coordination between the Wurstburp infantry and their cavalry. The former stride manfully onwards, keen to set their steel against the flesh of their opponents; the latter seem happy to sit idly in their saddles, singing mournful Jacobite songs about long-lost combined arms doctrine over the sea.

(Above, top left) The left wing of the advancing Wurstburpers begins to swing to the flank, no doubt to protect it from any interference from the Kurlandian regular cavalry. On the other flank, the Cassock irregulars stay huddled upon their hill. The gap to their front, though, between the enemy infantry and their cavalry is getting really quite wide. This is just the opportunity that any enterprising cavalry might look for - which means, of course, that the Wurstburpers are probably safe.

(Above) The main infantry lines are now in close proximity. There is a rough growl from the Wurstburpers that signals both the impact on their thighs of the chafing of their sporrans but also their desire to close immediately with the enemy and put them to the sword. Ordinary infantry might be tired by their prolonged advance across the battlefield - but not the Wurstburpers. True to their Scottish heritage, the clansmen are always keen to proclaim their willingness, first to walk 500 miles; and then to walk 500 more; just to be the close combat infantry that would fall down at one's door. 

The Kurlandian infantry lower their muskets and prepare to fire: they need a good volley to disorder the enemy and deter them from closing ....