The Barricades of Zerbst - continued

Continuing the narrative of events leading to the intervention of the Emperor of Trockenbeeren-Auslese and the Herzog von Rechburg in the tumultuous affairs of the Bishopric of Ulrichstein.

The brief parley about the town gates having ended, Colonel Freiherr von Smallhausen set about recalling the citizens of Zerbst by force to at least its political - if not spiritual - loyalty to Bishop Cornelius. Having glimpsed through the town gates that the barricade in the street beyond left no room to deploy his half-battery masked by an infantry company, von Smallhausen left the Musketeer Company of the Guard facing the main street, and swung right with the Grenadier Company and the guns. He directed the Hussars to make a wider sweep to seek out a side street down which they might attack.

The Marshal-General of Zerbst - the title Ritter von Rancke had awarded himself as military leader of the uprising - had already made his preparations. His motley army comprised nearly 1300 townsmen and local countryfolk, armed with whatever implements of war came to hand. He had managed to arm most of them with some form of firearm, and divided the rabble into seven companies, each of which he placed at a barricade. All five streets leading into the town Plaza were thus stopped up, the two remaining companies barricading flanking side streets the further to inconvenience an attacker.

The Colonel's attack, however, began well. Swinging right, he quickly encountered one of the flank barricades. In the brisk exchange of musketry that ensued, the townsmen were little protected by their flimsy defences. Though losing a few men (1 figure) and willing to carry on the fight, the Grenadiers fell back under orders, unmasking the guns that had deployed betimes. Six-pounder roundshot swiftly reduced the barricade to matchwood, its defenders shattered in equal measure. The whole company disappeared in the maelstrom.

The reduction of this first barricade was not in time, however, to forestall the Hussars attack upon the Plaza barricade that was von Smallhausen's next objective.

Reaching a sidestreet leading direct to that barricade, the Major commanding - one Eugen Lustbucket - at once ordered the charge. Flimsy the barricade was, yet it was a formidable obstacle for light horse charging in deep column down a narrow pave worn slippery by years of traffic.

The townsmen defended with vigour. The hussars broke against the barrier, lost perhaps two-score troopers whilst inflicting half that number of loss upon the defenders...
... and fled as best they might from the town.

The one possible benefit from the Hussars' fatal impetuosity was that the Grenadiers had reduced the first barricade without interference from the rebels. Now they were able to advance. Meanwhile, the gun battery was directed to the street down which the Hussars had just charged.

At the same time, by way of distraction, but also in the hope of breeching an important Plaza barrier, the Musketeers of the Guard were ordered to attack from the town gates.

The point-blank range mutual massacre that ensued appalled both sides. The slight protection of the barricade somewhat offset the regulars' superior musketry, but both sides found the fire too hot to endure for long. Within minutes, the defenders fell back dismayed from their barricade, less than half the company remaining. But the Musketeers were in no shape to exploit their success. Equally decimated, they, too, pulled back. Von Rancke was quick to pull another company over to man the abandoned defences.

So far, things were not going as Col von Smallhausen had hoped. But he still had his Grenadiers and artillery in hand, advancing upon the barricade that had been the scene of the Hussars' defeat.

Very soon the guns deployed, albeit under a popping musketry, and opened fire. At once their superb practice created chaos among the defenders.

Quickly reduced to a third of their original strength, the defenders fell back in their turn. Hastily, von Rancke brought up a reserve company to replace it. He just had to risk leaving another of his barricades undefended.

Too late. The Guards Colonel had been awiating just this chance. Leading forward his Grenadiers he met the townsmen rushing to the defence. The scrimmage swarmed over the upturned wagons in thrust of bayonet and swing of butt, and burst through the reserve company.

As the shaken townsmen staggered back under the relentless close assault, the Grenadiers stormed into the Plaza.

That did it. The irruption of Col von Smallhausen and his 100-odd remaining Grenadiers into the midst of the defending garrison was enough to precipitate a panic. Regular troops might yet have rallied and evicted the Smallhausen's tiny army once and for good, but with four out of seven companies destroyed or fleeing, von Rancke was unable to stem the general exodus.

Colonel Freiherr von Smallhausen had his victory. The butcher's bill had come out in his favour, but even he was appalled at the price to be paid for the Rule of Law. Of 660 men, just 420 remained with the colours at the close of the action. On the other hand, out of 1300 citizens, near on a third remained after the rest had fled to be patched up or buried. The Hussars showed willing to pursue the fugitives into the countryside. The Colonel vetoed that action, merely ordering them to establish a Martial Law.

Costly as it was, however, it resolved little in the short term, and nothing for the long. For the moment the town was pacified - cowed, rather - and within a week the Colonel was on his way back to Ulrichsburg, leaving only the Musketeer Company to maintain the Bishop's Peace. But the staunch defence of Zerbst grew in popular legend into a modern Thermopylae; Ritter von Rancke became something of a hero, and the resentment against Bishop Cornelius grew the more bitter as the cold months of want approached.

The rallying cry 'the Barricades of Zerbst' suddenly inflamed a worse and more widespread uprising. The countryfolk flocked to the banner of Ritter von Rancke, though a few sober heads observed the conspicuous absence from the ranks the merchant class that was sponsoring the revolt. But the smaller men had their own objectives: land reform for the peasants; work and income for the towns' 'Shirtless'.

The Guard Musketeers were unceremoniously shown the gates of Zerbst, and barely made it back to Ulrichstein unmolested. The Rebels were hastily organising an army, and there were indications that a treasonous correspondence with the Herzogtum von Rechburg had been entered into by the notables of the northern towns. This defiance of the Bishop's authority was clearly beyond the capability of the Bishopric's army to redress. In haste, the Bishop thrust into the hands of his Special Envoy, the Englishman Sir Eccleston Muggins, an urgent missive. Its destination: Schnitzel; its addressee: the Emperor.


One of the joys of campaigning can be the smaller actions that crop up. The action at Zerbst comprised:
The Diocesan Guard:Colonel v. Smallhausen - 1 figure
Grenadier Company of the Guard - 9 figures (10 including the Colonel)
Musketeer Company of the Guard - 10 figures
Hussar Squadron of the Guard - 9 figures
Section/Artillery of the Guard - 4 figures and 1 gun
The whole (33 figures and 1 gun) represented 660 officers and men plus 3 guns.

Zerbst Militia:Ritter v. Rancke 'Marshal-General of Zerbst' - 1 figure
'Staff' - 1 figure represented by a drummer
7 Militia Companies each with 9 figures
Total: 65 figures (1300).

The Barricades of Zerbst

The following is a brief narrative and background to events leading to a conflict between the the Wholly Romantic Emperor Marinus-Violoncello and the Herzog Constantine II of Rechburg. The campaigns you will be able to follow on the Herzogtum von Rechburg blogspot, and its sub-title Ulrichstein Campaign. See the list of My Favorite Links to the right of this column.

The blissfully peaceful aspect of the Bishopric of Ulrichstein, over the eighty-nine years since the treaty of Westfalia put a term to the 30 Years' War, hid a turmoil of inner conflict. Already populated with a Protestant religious majority, especially in the north, the Bishopric remained under the terms of the Treaty nominally Catholic. The Emperor of Trockenbeeren-Auslese stood as guarantor, even though this Diocese lay outside the Imperial frontiers.




The position of such a small Principality gave it more importance than its size might have indicated. Lying astride the natural commercial routes between the North Sea ports of Rechburg and the Imperial lands, the burghers of particularly the northern towns saw ample opportunity to profit therefrom. With accretion of wealth came a distinct reluctance to part with the tithe of it to ecclesiastical rulers, especially as much of it seemed to go to increasingly sumptuous statuary depicting the Mother of God. Many nouveau riche merchants found the iconoclastic Lutheran or Calvinist forms of worship more to their liking and inclination.



All this might have been borne, were it not for the terrible rains of 1737. The Elbow River flooded, the north-eastern arable lands were inundated, the corn crops failed. The resulting shortages might have been made good in many ways, but the merchant burghers of northern Ulrichstein saw, instead of local distress, opportunities for further profit by speculating in the corn markets. Instead of filling the stomachs of poor townsfolk and rural peasantries, what corn there was lay in merchant warehouses, awaiting sale and removal to other merchants' warehouses. Such destinations lay as much outside as within Ulrichstein borders.

Many - including those who profited most from them - saw in the famine and distress a Divine Retribution for the sins of the State and its people. The Protestants blamed the Catholics for their idolatry and idleness; the Catholics saw the Protestants as unprincipled, Godless usurers. The pulpits of both sides of the Schism thundered and echoed to self-righteous evangelical invective.

At last, in the autumn of 1737, the patience of the hungry snapped. The shirtless of the towns, joined by desperate countryfolk, rioted, smashed the windows of the rich, and broke into their storehouses. Of course, such violence led to much of the grain being destroyed and wasted. Many merchants suffered cruel financial losses; the poor remained no better off.

So severe had the violence been in the far northern town of Zerbst that the good burghers of that place appealed to their ruler, the ageing and ailing Bishop Cornelius ter Plonck, to send troops - someone - to impose martial law. Now, the Ulrichstein military was little more than would be required of a comic opera army, comprising as it did the Diocesan Guard Infantry (its three companies called Grenadiers, Musketeers and Arquebusiers); the squadron of Diocesan Guard Hussars; and the company of Diocesan Guard Field Artillery. This was not a lot from which to select a policing force.

That the response was swift was due to the eagerness and surprising vigour of the Commander of the Guard, Colonel Freiherr von Smallhausen. All his life a Guards officer, expert in ceremonial and formal protocol, he had never seen action. Now was the chance to put into practice what he had learned in years of lamplit evenings studying the campaigns of the great whilst dreaming of glory.

Leaving behind the minimum numbers to fulfil their primary ceremonial function and to fire the salutes - the Arquebusier Company and a section of artillery - von Smallhausen was marching north within 24 hours of receipt of the request from Zerbst. Under command were 380 Foot (19 figures); 180 Horse (9 figures) and 3 guns (1model).

Yet even that short delay proved sufficient to erase from the memory of the virtuous townsfolk of Zerbst that the approach of the Ulrichstein Army was at their request. Somehow the rumour spread that Bishop Cornelius intended to profit from the unrest forcibly to bring Zerbst, and the rest of the Protestant north, back into the Romish faith. Though it is true that it had been a longstanding ambition of Cornelius to achieve precisely that, it was one that had faded much with his advancing years, and in any case never had he seriously considered the use of force to compass it.

Quickly the townsfolk organised a militia to defend the town, appointing as their leader one Ritter von Rancke. At the gates of Zerbst, Col. von Smallhausen was met by a delegation of the townsfolk's appointed leader with his drummer.


'You may not enter!' announced the soi-disant Marshal-General of Zerbst, 'We have barricaded the streets and fortified the Plaza. And you try to enter, we will resist you.'


'Very well,' responded the Colonel, who desired nothing better, 'We shall be advancing at once. The consequences will be your responsibility.'


The delegation hastily withdrew; the Colonel made his preparations; the attack was on.


To be continued...

Raid! Part Two

Having captured the Rebel mortar emplacement, Lieutenants Hugh Pettifogg and Banastre Mirleton, British Grenadier officers, would have set about destroying the piece that had been proving such an annoyance within their own besieged lines. But the American response, though not soon enough to prevent the loss of the battery, was prompt enough to forestall demolition.
Mirleton's section had taken heavy loss during its attack, just two of six grenadiers remaining with the lieutenant. Lord Hugh had been luckier, just one of his grenadiers now lying upon the glacis. Facing them were Major Horatio Styles on horseback with four men on foot, and Sergeant Eugene Wappcapplett with three more. Without suitable weapons, the bombardiers were ordered to await the outcome. Nine men against nine - seven muskets against seven - even odds, and the the lack of rear cover to the earthwork meant no advantage to the defending Grenadiers.

The shooting by neither side proved very effective to begin with, but Pettifogg's section were lucky enough to bring down Sergeant Wappcapplet on the American side. Against that, Mirleton lost one of his two remaining soldiers, and began to fall back towards the earthwork.

Thus encouraged, the Americans continued their advance. Lord Pettifogg also began to pull back his men to conform with Mirleton's retreat. The flow of the former British advance now became a pronounced ebb. For the time being, though, the popping long-range musketry proved fairly ineffective.
Then came disaster for the Americans. A lucky shot from Mirleton's sole surviving grenadier struck Major Styles; he reeled in the saddle, pitched backwards over his mount's crupper, and lay still in the dust.
The moment's horror became instantly a surge of rage as his men carried on their advance. Retribution was swift, as Mirleton's last grenadier staggered back against the revetments of the Mortar battery, there to lie motionless.
Without a command, Mirleton was up and over the earthwork and away. Meanwhile, Wappcapplett's small section had also been reduced to a single survivor, though they had given Lord Hugh's men as good as they had received. With nothing further to be achieved, Lord Hugh also pulled his men out of the earthwork.


It had been a costly little action for the British, and something of a qualified failure. True, they had overrun the mortar, but had been unable to put it out of action. Having lost five men in the assault, they lost four more whilst being driven out of the position.

The American loss in mere numbers had been lighter: the three-man battery picquet, and four more in retaking the earthwork - seven in all. If the loss of a valuable NCO (Wappcapplett) was one thing, to lose the services for even just four or five weeks of such an officer as Horatio Styles - found badly wounded in the shoulder and concussed by his fall - was one that the recapture of a single siege mortar could scarcely compensate.

The verdict? Well: it was a fun game, but we'll have to try something a bit more sophisticated for it to be a fair test of the OMOG rule set.

Raid! Part One

Autumn, 1781: General Lord Cornwallis's army was blockaded at Yorktown, its back to the sea. As the American rebels and their French allies pressed close, a single mortar emplacement atop a low rise of ground close to the British lines was proving something of a nuisance to their rear areas. Cornwallis ordered its capture and destruction.


Gathering together a small raiding force, Lieutenant Lord Hugh Pettifogg, seconded by Lt Banastre Mirleton, gathered two sections of grenadiers, 6 under each officer. The foggy morning of 5th September covered the British approach until, at a little outside musketry range, they burst out of the mist. Lt Mirleton led the 1st Section on the right; as overall commander, Lt Pettifogg retained 2nd Section under his own hand.

The lightly held American outpost was surprised, but soon collected themselves for a stout defence. The mortar, haply loaded already, would get just one shot off before the enemy were under its minimum range. The battery commander, Sergeant Daniel Boondock decided to take his chances with that shot, then send off a runner for help whilst he and the rest of the mortar crew (one man) helped the 3-man picquet defend the post.


This was my first 'test' of the OMOG One Man One Gun rule set. I decided there would be no particular finesse to this action: a storming of an outpost, with the defenders hoping to hold out until help arrived.


Sergeant Boondock set the match to the mortar, the powder (despite the overnight damp) ignited, the shell flew into the air. No one knew where it came down. There was no explosion. To British relief, and American chagrin, the shell proved a dud (Would you believe it: rolled a '1'). At once, Bombardier Miles Long set off to the main lines. Sergeant Boondock grimly observed the steady approach of the enemy grenadiers.



Once the enemy came within range (I took this to be 12"), the picquet's three muskets opened fire felling a man from Mirleton's section. The grenadiers responded, ineffectually at that range. Behind revetted earthworks, the Yankees could laugh at long range musketry. On the other hand, all the gunners could do was wait: their pistols would be useless until the enemy got much closer.

Nothing loth, the grenadiers closed the range, losing two more of their number (one each from Mirleton's and Pettifogg's sections), until at last they were close enough to hope to inflict some hurt of their own. Sure enough, one musketeer fell, but casualties among the attackers were mounting.

Early exchanges: one grenadier is down but there is no chance at this range of damaging the defenders in their works.

Closing the range. By now the Grenadiers had lost three...

... before a lucky shot dropped on of the defenders.




Surging up the slight slope, Mirleton's command burst over the earthwork and thrust through the embrasure. Their bravery cost them two more men, but their impetuosity carried them through to put the remainder of the picquet to the bayonet. At once Sergeant Boondock and his remaining gunner legged it.

Far ahead of them was their fellow gunner, running to seek help.

Just then, that help arrived. Hearing the continual popping fire and the gunner's raucous calls for help, the ever-popular Major Horatio Styles rode in, gathered as many volunteers as he could betimes, and set off for the battery. Arriving upon the scene, he found the battery already overrun, the mortar crew beating a hasty retreat, and British grenadiers swarming over the earthwork.

'The Redcoats shall not have that mortar for a trophy!' cried the Major, 'Who's with me?'


This narrative will be continued in another posting, but here is a convenient place to pause. This was very much a 'first pass' to try out the rule set in a fairly unsophisticated frontal attack upon a defended earthwork. It certainly proved no pushover for the grenadiers, even at more than two to one odds, losing 5 men whilst inflicting 3 and driving off the rest. It is too early to state an opinion on the OMOG rule set, except to say they are playable enough!

Diversions...

A recent posting on the Old School Wargamers' group has been the inspiration behind this posting. 'Uncle Thor' was looking for someone to playtest his table top play concept OMOG - One Man, One Gun , intended to be packaged with his Toy Soldier Art.

Natuurally intrigued, I went off to explore what was meant by 'Toy Soldier Art'. It was an eye-opener. I had never come across before quite what this guy was about. Although he doesn't say specifically, the philosophy behind the whole idea is to find virtue in even quite crude and cheap figures (emphasis very much on 2-3" figures); to use your painting skills to supply deficiencies in the figure and or its equipament; and for the play: to use whatever you have available. Teacups, cutlery, books - anything at all - can be used to provide terrain. Mind you, he can supply soldiers and terrain...

My first thought was for several plastic 19th century figures I have waiting for the decision whether to go the Horse Foot Guns direction, or something a bit more Little Wars. It appeared very quickly that I had too many of these figures for OMOG to be a goer, though I did ask for the 19th Century download.

It was not until then I bethought me of some half-forgotten figures stashed away somewhere, and quickly fished out. Way back when my daughter was 3, she had spotted a pack of soldiery that she thought Dad (me) might like for his 'wargamings'. Actually, I quite liked what was in the bag: musketeers and grenadier figures, some artillery, a mounted and a couple of foot officers, a cannon with the wheels the wrong way around (easily sorted), a siege mortar(!) and a gun emplacement. The whole could be arrayed on a (rather crudely) printed plastic play mat.

Seeing what Thor had to say concerning Toy Soldier Art, I felt I had shortchanged these figures, and have spent much of the last 3 days transforming them into something like Toy Soldiers. At least, I hope I have. Here's a bunch of pics. What do you reckon?





These redcoats I had figured on as British Grenadiers, but I am told that the guys in black plastic were supposed to be 'Hessians'. It had crossed my mind to repaint some as Germans of one sort or another, but I stayed with the Brits. Black plastic, by the way, ain't easy to paint...

Now, the whole idea of OMOG is very small scale - what we call 'skirmish games'. As these pics show, there's plenty to work with, and even if the Mortar won't see much action, it would make a fine objective for a trench raid in a Yorktown scenario.





Of course, with these inexpensive (cheap) buys, you get some naff poses. I'm sure that no one with a view to longterm battlefield survival would have wielded their bayoneted muskets in quite the overhead manner shown here. Particularly odd are the Grenadiers standing - well, staggering, really - firing. I'm prepared to suppose that even well braced for the impact, one can not avoid reeling with the recoil. But I would have preferred the 'pre-discharge' pose... One thing is for sure - you can see how easy it would be to shoot over your target's head!



Here are a few 'situational' pics with which to end this posting...



Small patrols meet whilst scouring the swamp flanking the main positions. No doubt after a very brief exchange of shots, both sides will fade back into the undergrowth and report ...


This Mortar Emplacement is rather close to enemy trench lines... The picquet on guard watch anxiously alert for the enemy to try a surprise raid on the emplacement.

Thor identified these soldiers as BMC, possibly also sold under an 'Americana' name. Some of the BMC moulds fetched up in China (I noticed that my figures have CHINA imprinted under the base). BMC originally produced French and 'Hessians' as well as Continentals and British, and had playsets for other conflicts: ranging from the Alamo, San Juan Hill, Iwo Jima. I suspect the set Ursula bought me might have been intended as Yorktown...

Crude they might be, and yet they are quite engaging once painted up. I hadn't appreciated that until now. Nor had I any idea what to do with these fellows. Soon, I daresay they will be locked in combat on our kitchen table...

Meawhile, check out http://thortrains.net/toysoldierart/ ...