Crash and Stab!

(Below) Burberry pirates man-handle the fluffy goats and, in a few moments, the livestock are robustly whisked off. This is, uncharacteristically, not quite as rude as it might sound, and simply involves the men leading their four-legged charges to the rear of the field. Soon Kucuk Huseyin is able to tick off the first item on his plundering shopping list. 

(Below) The baron has ordered his infantry into line. Not for the first time, though, Hunchmausen struggles to fit everything in. There is not space for his whole line to deploy, so only two companies can make up the firing line. The third company begins a wider movement around the flank.

'Excellent!' exclaims the baron out loud, 'confronting enemy irregular skirmishers in cover with a close line of my own troops in the open: I can't see any problem with that approach at all. We shall soon crash through their line, and then, perhaps set about them with the stab of bayonet!'

'There are, sir, some issues that do leap to my mind', says one of his officers. 'I look at our situation and words such as "Braddock" and "Monongahela" spring to the fore'.

'"Haddock"? "Prolonged Inhaler"? What the devil sort of advice is that?' retorts the baron angrily.

'No, my lord', replies the officer hastily, 'I was merely drawing the sorts of parallels that a casual observer might also draw, between our own situation and that that led to the crushing defeat inflicted by some very angry locals a few years ago upon an English general named Braddock, at a place named Monongahela in North America. It is that that leapt to my mind, and makes me wonder: is there perhaps an alternative plan that might make our troops less vulnerable?'

'Certainly not"' says Hunchmausen. 'Stop your mental leaps, young sir. Take your imagination, give it a soothing beverage, and send it straight to bed. We shall fight this battle in the proper way: lines; geometry; the mindless performance of drill. This is the eighteenth century, sir - not the Dark Ages'.

The baron pauses, before continuing, cautiously: 'I'm right in my history, though, aren't I - this isn't the Dark Ages?'
The officer raises one eyebrow. 'No sir - at least, not in the proper sense. The Dark Ages would be that period of the early middle ages; we, on the other hand, live the period of the Enlightenment'.
The baron nods. 'Excellent!'
'Although', continues the officer, 'I can''t help feeling that Mittelheim, if it isn't strictly in the Dark Ages, is certainly somewhere quite shady; and also, that if this is the Enlightenment, then in Rotenburg someone has probably drawn some very heavy curtains'.

(Below) In the meantime, the Rotenburg light troops off-road and head briskly towards the bridge over the River Zwei. But there is now something of a race on: in the distance, we can see more pirates heading towards this flank of the battle. This being Mittelheim, though, it's not a very good or exciting race. It's certainly not analogous to any remotely engrossing horse race; instead, one should perhaps imagine the competitive struggle for ground exhibited by elderly, arthritic hedgehogs, half-blind and fully off their heads on egg nog.

The Rotenburg light troops spot their advancing pirate adversaries!
'Pirates', cries one, 'I can see pirates!'
'Oooh!' says a second, 'Perhaps it would be correct to add an "ahoy" - you know, to get the right atmosphere'.
'Pirates ahoy!' says the first, delightedly. 'I must say - they don't look very dangerous'.
The second considers this. 'They must surely be quite dangerous. Pirates have a reputation. I mean - Blackbeard, he was reputedly quite tough'.
'What's frightening about having a black beard? Was it terrifyingly curly? Perhaps it looked like something frightening - like a dire-wolf; or a hamster'.
'Hmmm, I think that his black beard was just an obvious identifying feature - to distinguish himself from other terrifying pirates who - you know, didn't have a beard that was black. I'm sure that he actually did a lot things that were frightening - er, plundering, killing, cutting off limbs, not using cutlery, that sort of thing'.
'He doesn't sound so bad. Now, Daniel Montbars - there was a fellow: "Montbars the Exterminator" he was called'.
'Perhaps it was ironic'.
'Ironic?'
'Yes - you know, like "Little John", who was actually very big. Perhaps Montbars the Exterminator was actually an excessively jovial pacifist. Who collected soft toys'.
'I'm not convinced. By all accounts he tortured one Spanish prisoner by gutting him, tying one end of his intestines to a log, and then forcing him to dance'.
'So he liked dancing?'
'He forced the man to dance by beating him on his arse with a burning log'.

'Well, you have to admire the man's motivational skills'.

(Above) The light troops line the wall adjacent to the merchant's house. But the position is an awkward one for delivering fire against the advancing enemy pirates. Whilst the Rotenburg troops have the benefit of cover, their adversaries are largely obscured by a small orchard. To the left, and just out of shot of this woodcut, another group of pirates is firing at longer range against the light troops. Thanks to the angles, they are able to mass more fire against the Rotenburgers than the Rotenburgers effectively can reply with. Of course, there are quite a lot of other things that Rotenburg troops cannot effectively reply to: questions about who their fathers are, for example; or any tricky questions that require working with numbers higher than the count of their fingers. But still: as long as the baron's line of regulars can quickly dispatch their skirmishing adversaries, things should be fine. Oh dear ...