The Sons in Splendor, Volume III: The (Great) Grandsons in Splendor

These are looking like long updates, what are your thoughts on post length?

  • Another 24k words? Yes please!

    Votes: 9 81.8%
  • Oh Golly, can we keep it sub 20k?

    Votes: 1 9.1%
  • Yeaaaaah, I'm thinking even shorter than 10k.

    Votes: 1 9.1%
  • Just finish it up already! (less than 5k)

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Total voters
    11
  • Poll closed .
Interesting going for inbreeding causing problems in the royal house in makes sense because historic Lee inbreeding has created many problems with fertility, mental faculties in the houses of Europe will you be going for a new Yorkist dynasty replacing the main branch of the family or going for the Tudors some time in the future taking or inheriting the yorkist crown because Arthur is not a York name when it comes to kings of that dynasty.
 
When I am thinking of usurping and replacing dynasties I think of the merovingians, Karling and what the Capets or Robertan dynastic did to under mind the Karling dynasty a fun face Rollo the walker who was the first Duke of Normandy actually supported Charles III of France called the simple who was fighting Hugh the Great.
 
1568-1576 Part 2
Hi all, this is the last section for 1568-1576. There is one more (admittedly chunky) set of updates to take us up to 1581 to finish this volume of the TL. I am really getting into this now, and I amd very grateful for the support. I realised vol III has been a little quiet compared to Vols I and II and so I plan to plough straight on into Vol IV 'The Eclipse of the Sons 1581-1621(ish)' once this is complete. Vol IV is going to be a right doozy so stay tuned!

The Making of Ireland D O’Farrell (2007)

King Michael I of Ireland turned 30 in 1571. His line had been secured with two sons; Matthew and Richard born in 1569 and 1571 respectively to Phillipa of Hesse. A daughter - Beatrice - would follow in 1574 unfortunately killing her mother in the process. Michael was said to be heartbroken. In memoriam he had the Hessian Gardens commissioned at the royal residence of York House in what is today Phoenix Park in Dublin.

In the wake of the Tyrone Uprising, Ireland had entered an era of peace, like the rest of the Empire. However this peace was less restful than elsewhere; endless minor risings and brigandry ensured that the countryside beyond the major towns and roadways remained unsettled at best. The problem worsened further west and Limerick and Kerry were particularly bad until Seneschal Sir Eric Brough was installed in 1573 and dispensed rough justice. The little-known Ballyguitenanne Massacre occurred at this time - a party of the Munster Company burnt the entire village to the ground and poisoned the well after a County Reeve had been attacked. Almost forgotten in Britannic History, the tale of woe has been preserved by local vernacular, which has its own version in Tir na Gaeilge. In February 1574, so the legend goes, the villagers were suspected of being involved in the attack, but there was no concrete evidence. In the end the leading men of the settlement were arrested, taken to Limerick and hanged whilst the rest of the buildings were burnt.

Ballyguitenanne was not an isolated incident; all across Ireland small acts of resistance were meted on the Crown and its representatives. In previous years they may have been overlooked, but with Michael safely ensconced on the throne, the military companies to full strength, and King Edward lurking in the background, the Council of Ireland could afford a strong response.

Nonetheless the resistance remained localised and sporadic. Not only was there a lack of a leader to organise and inspire these acts of opposition, but good harvests and an economy severely undermined the cause of rebellion. It is a truism of History that sedition is much less likely when people have jobs and full bellies. There is a multitude of reasons for Irish prosperity in the 1570s; international peace, roaring trans-Atlantic trade, the need for sailors and soldiers to fan across the Empire, booming population, food prices and education, and finally the exile of any rebels to Mayo, Galway, Claire or the New World.

This latter reason proved rather effective as the exiles were mainly those higher up society, and so their removal allowed upward mobility. This social mobility was further aided by the growing availability of education, King Michael having adopted the Grammar School model, and Trinity College Dublin was founded in 1571, followed by York College in 1579. Finally the population boom in England had made its way to Ireland pushing up food prices, a real boon to the agrarian economy.

Of course there remained a divide in Irish society. The wealthier people were all Protestant of English (or occasionally Welsh) descent. The culture of only uplifting Protestants to higher positions in England was also adopted in Ireland. This meant that most Catholics remained at the bottom of the social ladder. One exception to this was service in the trading companies. The Irish Crown was too nervous to allow Catholics power or responsibility, but the Norland Trading Company was less concerned, choosing skill over religion. It was this which led to them appointing Conal O’Mahoney as Captain of the Minerva in 1573.

Born in Cobh, County Cork, around 1538, Conal spent his entire life at sea plying the waters around Ireland and across to Colombia. It was here that he made a name for himself as a seaman and shrewd trader, enabling his elevation to Captain and his place in History.

Between Two Worlds: Europe 1531-1606 O Thompson (2015)

Since the treaty of Liege in 1531, Spain had been incredibly quiet. Stripped of their promising New World colonies, and left with the undeveloped Venezuela, Spain struggled for years to regain its position of stability. All the benefits of the Reconquista had been frittered away through ill-fated adventures in the Colombias, Italy and the Low Countries. In particular the final years of the Nine Years War had been especially hard on Spain as they had taken the strain of Charles V’s military needs as the Empire became less reliable. Consequently, over 30,000 Spanish soldiers and sailors died in the war, not to mention a number of the best commanders.

Charles V did certainly not help Spain after the war either. The Emperor had become preoccupied with regaining his Empire and having to defend Christendom from the Ottomans, meaning that he neglected Iberia almost completely. Finally Charles’ death at Kalocsa in 1545 held back Spanish recovery even further. The short-lived Habsburg war forced Phillip to pour as many resources as he could into fighting his cousin Maximillian. The war did at least give Phillip some experience of combat - his victory at Tortola in 1547 largely due to his own bold charge into the centre of the Imperial line - but it drained Spain of much of its built-up wealth.

Consequently it was 1570 before Phillip II had suitably strengthened his realm to once more look outwards. There were three main planks to this recovery: the Papacy, Venezuela, and Los Empresas. FIrstly Cardinal Alfonso de Mar became Pope in 1570 - named Julius IV. De Mar had been a close friend of Phillip II and the King had used his influence to lean on other Cardinals to elect the first non-Italian Pontiff in half a century. Julius IV, like his namesake, would take an extremely hard line on the Reformation, and is credited with really beginning the Counter-Reformation in Europe, not to mention his surreptitious support for armed opposition to Protestantism. The new Pope not only added legitimacy to Phillip’s goals of waging war on England, but he was also able to finance them through pan-Catholic collections.

Secondly was Venezuela. With only the one colony to speak of, Phillip had advocated the extreme exploitation of Venezuela. In this Spain was aided in the slave-trade which provided a seemingly limitless supply of cheap labour, and the fact that most Catholic countries refused to trade with the English. Consequently Tobacco, Sugar, Cotton, Coffee and Cacao were all in high demand and it was by the intense farming of these crops, supplemented by some mining, that Phillip II was able to make Venezuela a profitable, and vital source of income. It seems Phillip II was also aided by the clear use of monopolies. His only real competition in these goods was Portugal, but by having a far more centralised and organised trading system, through La Casa de la Contratación, the Spanish were able to low-ball the market, force the Portuguese out and then create a monopoly.

Finally Phillip II wisely invested these profits, and Papal donations into Los Empresas. Based on the English Company model, Empresas were military companies trained to fight and armed with Arquebus and Pike. Financial limitations meant that only a fraction of these firearms were flintlock, most still using match, and the quality was lower than the English, but Phillip aimed for quantity over quality. By 1573 it is estimated that Spain could field a conscript army of around 60,000 men, with a hardened core of around 20,000 professionals.

With his forces ready, Phillip II selected a target. Since his coronation as King of Spain, PHillip had sought vengeance on Protestants and on England in particular. To Phillip, it was England who had lain Christendom low and driven his father to an early grave (odd considering it was a Muslim lance which killed him). Yet for all his vengeful drive, Phillip was no fool. Even with the Empresas, he could not hope to invade England or any of their territories other than perhaps Brittany and Normandy. The Nine Years War had shown the risk of attacking the Britannic Empire in the NEw World, and the intervening years had only worsened Spain’s odds.

Therefore Phillip set his eyes on northern Europe, when his plans were thwarted. Henri II of France died in 1573. Without any heirs, this sparked a succession war until 1575 which Henri de Bourbon eventually won, crowning himself Henri III. However the intervening conflict saw two branches of the French Royal family at war, with the whole situation complicated by Protestant rebels attacking both sides. If Phillip had intended to utilise French assistance against Normandy or Brittany, the succession war put pay to those plans.

Instead the French war actually helped point towards Phillip’s target. The Catholic low countries of Bruges, Brussels, Ghent and Liege had all been shorn from the Emperor’s influence by the Treaty of Liege, and since then had existed as a small collection of mini states sandwiched between the English holdings, France and the United Netherlands. The Palatinate War had only worsened the situation with the Empire no longer on their doorstep, but the equally free cities of Trier and Mainz. These six cities between them were looking increasingly isolated, and almost as concerned by each other than the Protestant threat to their west, north and east. The only hope for the Low Cities had been the French Crown to their south who could theoretically ride in and defend them from the Protestants, but the French war removed this from the table.

In 1573 Phillip sent Gaspar de Quroga, Archbishop of Toldeo to Brussels to meet the representatives of the Catholic Low countries and discuss his military support for their defence. Quroga went in his official capacity as Paapal Legate and so the real purpose of his visit was unknown to the rest of Europe. Within a year Spanish weapons and soldiers were flowing into the Catholic cities through Bruges, the small gap in the Protestant coastline from St Nazaire to Gdansk. Concealed as New World trade, even the Britannic agents were not able to discover this illicit trade.

Here stepped in the Captain of Cobh, Conal O’Mahoney himself. In 1575 the Minerva was en route from Kinsale to Calais when it spied a ship taking on water. The Navia Nina was a small cargo ship from Asturias, and she had hit submerged rocks during a storm. Her crew were trying to repair the damage when they saw the Minerva coming to their aid. At the sight of the Norland Trading Company banner the crew then began throwing their cargo overboard. Being a shrewd man himself, O’Mahoney must have pondered why good Olives and preserved Lemons were being dumped in the ocean. Even had this been to prevent sinking, the crew had forsaken their other tasks to dump cargo as the Minerva approached.

Unfortunately for the crew of the Navia Nina, and Phillip II, not all of these barrels sank. In their haste the crew had forgotten to break a few open to prevent buoyancy. Having rescued a few of these barrels from the ocean, Conal discovered lead-lined boxes inside containing gun parts and gunpowder. The Navia Nina was made safe and towed into Plymouth where it was discovered their load had been bound for Bruges. Edward VI was incensed; Phillip II had clandestinely armed a band of Catholics parked across his lines of communication from Picardy into the Netherlands. At a stroke Phillip could cut the Protestant allies in half, and raid them at will.

For now the dispute would remain diplomatic. But with both sides spoiling for war, and the Catholics having stolen a march on the Protestants for a change, the outbreak of violence seemed inevitable. However for 1576 the White Fleet merely blockaded Bruges. This was incredibly difficult and controversial as many captains refused to allow their cargo to be searched, but it nevertheless hampered Phillip’s efforts to build up the Catholic cities. However by this point, Henri III had won his throne, and he shared Phillip’s desires to attack the Protestant allies, and so weapons and soldiers began to flow over the French border.

The Rolling Spheres: the Colombias of Richard IV R Boothroyd (1991)

The 1570s saw development and growth across the Colombias, but two particular areas really stand out. Bradbury County had been settled by French Huguenots over the previous decade and more began to arrive up to 1575 as more fled the French war of Succession, and its attendant religious persecution. By 1580 it is estimated that there were almost 100,00 French speakers in Norland, almost 90,000 in Bradbury County. The city of Conde [OTL Charleston] itself held around 15,000 people and it became the main entrepot for French immigrants to the county. In exchange the city exported cotton and sugar. Such was the huge population that farms stretched inland for over 100 miles linked by dusty tracks and marshy rivers plied by Pirogues, flat boats which ranged in size from able to ferry a few people to a few tonnes of sugar.

As such, by 1580 Bradbury County had a booming export of cotton and sugar, adn was fast becoming one of the trading centres of Norland. Goughton was still in the lead, but Bradbury had experienced consistent growth over 15% a year for the past decade by this point. OF course all of this growth had been built upon the backs of slaves. Many of the Huguenots had been from the higher strata of French society; they were not farmers, and so could not be expected to undertake the back-breaking work of growing cotton from virgin soil. Therefore Bradbury began to import slaves as fast as the Imperial African Company could provide them, and they often exported the crops into the bargain. Bradbury thus earned the dubious distinction as the slavery capital of the Britannic Empire, Barrow and New Surrey of course used slaves, but they were dwarfed in scale by the French colony. Of course very few people cared at the time, the hope was that these slaves would become Christians, and the trade in Bradbury was also immensely lucrative.

The other Colombian region to see growth at this time was the land of Grand Colombia itself, although this was more cultural and intellectual than economic. Grand Colombia comprised by 1575 the counties of Hartsport and Tettington [Veracruz and Mexico City OTL]. The colony had gone through numerous iterations since Henry Tudor’s first expedition over 50 years previously, but in its current state it was following the path of Nova Albion into agriculture and small scale industry supported by a dwindling mining sector. The Aztec gold mines had been intensely exploited in the first half century of Imperialism, and all that remained was either trace deposits or undiscovered seams. Instead the Duke of Hartsport - Reginald Bradbury - presided over the transformation of Colombia [note this is OTL Mexico] into a stable colony.

The European disease seen across the New World had caused an estimated 70% death rate since 1520 and so much of the land was now farmed by European settlers with a few native servants, or slaves in some cases. The majority of the mining was undertaken by the Grand Colombian Company itself using their own mix of Colombian and African slaves. As atrocious as this death rate was, it was actually lower than elsewhere; Albion [Hispaniola] saw almost 95% of its native inhabitants killed off by 1580. The upshot of this was that the remaining Aztec and other tribes began to mix with the European settlers creating a ‘Pidgin’ culture which was a mix of English and Nahuatl.

Bradbury may have himself descended from the famed Explorer, and earned his crust as a trader and governor, but he was one of the first intellectuals of the European colonies in the Colombias. He is also considered the father of modern Zoology Reginald Bradbury was of course kept incredibly busy with his job, but in his spare time he would go for walks outside of his villa built above Lake Texcoco, now known to the English as Tettington. Bradbury collected and studied the insects and small mammals of the Colombian interior and was the first to send life specimens back to the Royal Society in London.

Given his intellectual passion it is unsurprising that Bradbury helped to found the Hartsport University in 1571, the first one on the central Colombian mainland. This University was so removed from Europe, and the intense mineral expansion of Barrow and elsewhere, that it became a hotbed for philosophical and political discussion. It was at Hartsport that the intellectual seeds of COlombian autonomy and secession were first planted. With this hindsight in hand, therefore, it is possible to see the arrival of Sir Nicholas Bacon and his family in 1574 as prescient. Initially trained as a bureacrat and appointed to run the Hartsport office of the Grand Colombian Company, Bacon would take a keen interest in zoology, anthropology and philosophy, speaking a number of times at the University at the behest of Bradbury. Neither man could know the impact their descendants would have on Colombia and the wider world.

Both Bradbury County and Bradbury the man demonstrate the diversity evident in the new world by 1576; the continent had become a hodge-podge of different interests and cultures. Once the initial rush of exploration and settlement had died down, the various colonies had gone their own ways as the local context demanded. In particular the vitality and strength of the Norland and Colombian colonies cannot be ignored.
 
Hmm. This new puritan-like king seems to be a bit of an idiot, but whilst he seems rather fanatical he doesn't seem to be incompetent.

England would have to royally fuck up to lose their European territory. They have population, professionalism, wealth, naval supremacy and technology on their side.
 
Hmm. This new puritan-like king seems to be a bit of an idiot, but whilst he seems rather fanatical he doesn't seem to be incompetent.

England would have to royally fuck up to lose their European territory. They have population, professionalism, wealth, naval supremacy and technology on their side.
Yeah there will be some pegging back of England but hopefully it will be believable
 
Hmm. This new puritan-like king seems to be a bit of an idiot, but whilst he seems rather fanatical he doesn't seem to be incompetent.

England would have to royally fuck up to lose their European territory. They have population, professionalism, wealth, naval supremacy and technology on their side.
I am looking at this and I am thinking of the lord protectors or parliament usurping more power away from the King and emperor. But with that stated like a story with a strong characters which is better to write about than institutions or if not harder more boring.
 
I am looking at this and I am thinking of the lord protectors or parliament usurping more power away from the King and emperor. But with that stated like a story with a strong characters which is better to write about than institutions or if not harder more boring.
Exactly, and so my aim is to head to a more constitutional Empire without it being boring.... As I said Part IV is gonna be a doozy. I confess that I got a bit distracted from part III because I was plotting IV!
 
The way I see it going is an incompetent first half of the war as England is afflicted by rebellions, then a victorious second half which results in the loss of Spain's last colonies and secures England's continental territory.

Not too Britwanky, not too Britscrewy.
 
The way I see it going is an incompetent first half of the war as England is afflicted by rebellions, then a victorious second half which results in the loss of Spain's last colonies and secures England's continental territory.

Not too Britwanky, not too Britscrewy.
Spot on in theory but this coming war is just the appetizer! Dragging it out into a good 40 yr TL in part IV!
 
'Britannica: Total War, coming to all good retailers in time for Christmas'!
My enemies are many my equals are nom, they said France could not be subdued, they said Britannica cannot be tamed, they said India could never be humbled now they say nothing they fear me like a force of nature a dealer in thunder and death. I say I am Henry I am emperor- Henry Vii of England and first of Britannica. Britannica we are in crisis and enemies home and abroad we have King Louis in France and the spaniards in the low countries we need an emperor the people can follow give us emperor John - total war restorer of the world.
 
Narrative Interlude 2
Keem Bay, Achill Island, County Mayo, 17th April 1578

The small boat bucked and bobbed in the swell. The quartet of Spanish sailors at the oars were panting and grunting, and swearing in Spanish, desperately trying to keep the course straight and at right angles to the waves. Beyond their backs the immense cliff reared out of the ocean like the border wall of God. Black and jagged in the half-light of dawn, the wall of rock looked passively down at the tumultuous sea below it and the half-dozen boats which struggled inland.

Out to sea, the men at the oars could still make out the dark shapes of the two Spanish Galleons even now beating south to maintain station through the rough seas. According to the locals these waters were normal, but of course only such savage people would consider the wild white caps and the roaring wind to be pleasant, or even normal. These sailors from the coast of Galicia were used to Atlantic storms, but this was something else, they certainly were not used to the wind. And, they suspected, neither were their passengers, even if they did claim to hail from this cursed land.

The tall warrior sat in the centre of the boat, his silence contrasted against the wild motion of the sea beneath him. To the oarsmen he seemed like a stone, impassive and hard, but in his heart his emotions stirred and swirled as the sea of his homeland did about him. Seamus O’Neill had never laid eyes upon Eirean before this day, he had only heard the stories of its rugged beauty and wild spirit. A child of the New World, Seamus had the blood of his ancestors in his veins - Celt and Creek - the son of the Chief of the Gaelic realm of Norland and a princess of the Creek nation, Seamus had been blessed, or cursed depending on who you asked, with a dark complexion and a heavy brow which made him look like he was constantly frowning.

Now his face held that passive hard stare as he fixed the dark, brooding, and fierce cliffs of his homeland. He was home. To a land he had never known, yet had always known in his heart. His father had told him of this land and its people, undimmed and unblunted by age. Diarmud was over 55 years old now, he had been only a boy when the damned English had taken him across the Ocean to that fetid and humid swamp they now called home. Torn from the dark land of his birth and left to die amid the foreign marshes of a distant hell. Only he had survived, and even thrived, he had carved out a land for his people, for all the Gaels who would sit beneath him.

And now this. The Spanish ships arriving at Ballynacorthy, the mad offer of a return to the homeland, the weeks of preparation and travel across the foul ocean in late winter, and now finally: home. Well not home exactly. Seamus could not be entirely sure of where they were, he only knew his father’s homeland was north of here. The people here would be as alien to the young man as his mother’s people had once been to his father. They would look on this outsider with hostility and suspicion. But around Seamus’ waist hung the means for him to overcome that hostility. To his right hung the Tomahawk his mother had given him, a vicious short axe with a blade of the finest Castillian steel their generous benefactors could provide. To his left lay a blade far more beautiful and ancient. His father’s Claideamh - Badb - the goddess of war, a great war sword of fearsome appearance and even more ferocious reputation. The pommel was curved into the form of a crow and the hilt was fierce and hard with only a tiny Gaelic pattern turned into the cross-guard. The white blade gleamed in the sun. It was Gaelic steel, a weapon his descendants had smuggled with them into exile. Tales of this blade would bring the clans to Seamus’ side, so his father had told him.

The boats were past the headland now and into the lee, the Spaniards looking relieved and relaxed now as their oars cut through the more placid waters. Seamus turned down the hood he was wearing to cover his dark hair and looked about the small flotilla. There were over 50 men across these boats, warriors all, and loyal to Seamus and the clan O’Neill. Another 50 or so awaited the return of the boats and the second wave.

As the small vessel approached the shore, Seamus stood, to a grunt or derision from the oars-men, but none of them dared say anything against the young prince. He pulled Badb from her sheath to a thin rasp over the sound of the waves and the wind and let her taste the cold, wild air of home for the first time in a generation. The young man’s dark green tunic and black cloak would have been lost in the gloom, but there was not a man in the bay now who was not staring at the pale slash of light in the murk of dawn.

With a jolt the boat hit the soft sand of the beach. Not missing a heartbeat, Seamus stepped to the side and splashed down into the wild surf frothing and foaming around his ankles. He wanted to be first ashore, wanted to claim the land for his own. Taking a few brisk steps up the wet beach, Seamus O’Neill stabbed Badb down into the damp sand so she quivered upright, the blade gave a hiss of satisfaction as she sank into the cold earth of home.

His fist clenched around the crow of her pommel, Seamus took a knee, planting his other hand upon the ground. The sand was coarse and cold, like nothing he had ever felt, it seemed so alien yet so familiar at the same time. With the acrid smell of rotting seaweed in his nostrils, the roar of the sea in his years, and the cold hard sand of Eirean in his fist, Seamus O’Neill gave a silent prayer to thank his God for the safe arrival and declaring vengeance upon the English. They would bleed, and Eirean would rise.

Auxi la Chapelle, County of Picardy, Britannic Empire, 17th April 1578
‘Father no! Please stay in bed!’

‘Nonsense!’ snapped Giovanni Hartson as he slowly stood at his bedside, leaning upon the dark cane in his right hand.

‘If I can’t come with you, the least I can do is see you off’ He gave a rasping cough and doubled up for a moment.

William Hartson took a step towards his ageing father, concern etching his face. Giovanni must be over his 80th birthday by now - no-one, not even he, knew exactly how old he was - but the fire in his belly was undimmed as ever, whilst his body still continued to protest.

‘I’m fine, I’m fine’ the old man said flapping his free hand at Anna, William’s youngest daughter who had rushed to support him.

‘Damn it, if I can survive more battles than I can remember I can survive old age.’ He chuckled, patting Anna on her strong young shoulder. The laugh caused another coughing fit, forcing her to grip this arm and place the other on his back. William just stood there, uncertain in his riding gear, whilst his father cleared his throat.

Having regained his breath Giovanni turned to Anna and said ‘thank you my dear, tis a comfort to an old man having you here.’ Glancing to William, unmistakable in his dark leather riding jerkin with the Stag of the Hartson family carved into the chest-plate the old warrior said ‘but would you give your father and I a moment?’

‘Of course’ Anna said and with a nod to her father she glided out of the bed chamber.

‘Now she’s a fine young woman’ Giovanni said, moving towards his son, leaning heavily on the cane. His leg wound from Limberg was acting up again making the leg stiff and painful to move - well that’s what you get for going into battle in your 50s he thought. ‘No, no I’m fine’ he said once again to William as the barrel-chested man tried to take his arm.

‘You’re a stubborn Ox is what you are father’

Giovanni chuckled again. ‘And don’t you forget it. Stubborn pig-headedness got this family to where we are today.’

With an amused grunt William Hartson cut in ‘you know what mother used to say?’

The two men said in unison ‘One day someone’s going to cut that pig head of yours off, just to teach you a lesson, and then where will I be?’

Giovanni gave another cough, the penalty for trying to impersonate the falsetto of his late wife Elisabeth. A pang of sadness flashed through him, she had been dead 3 winters now, and he still missed her, what happens after a life together he supposed. A surprise though, he thought, he had once been the playboy Prince of Europe, a fumble with any young wench he could find and a quick death upon the battlefield was all he had ever hoped for. Growing old in a vast estate surrounded by his children, grand children, even great-grandchildren, had never been part of the Black Bastard’s plan, but here he was.

‘Father?’ William asked from his side. Giovanni realised he had been daydreaming as he hobbled down the passage from his bedchamber.

‘Oh nothing, my son, I just miss your mother is all’

‘As we all do father’ William replied. Elizabeth of Hesse may have been a strong willed Germanic woman but she had loved her family, and heaven help anyone who threatened them.

By now the two men were passing the door to the courtyard balcony, and Giovanni turned into it, William following a pace behind. Outside, the balcony was bathed in the warm light of a spring morning, Giovanni’s leg immediately felt better, and he gripped the rail with his wizened old hands to take in the scene below him.

In the courtyard a whole mess of pages, armourers, stewards and men-at-arms hustled about preparing the Hartson family for war. There were over 200 men mustering at the estate alone, Phillip and their other men were bringing at least 4 times that to Oudenberg, Amidst the melee children ran, little Giovanni, William’s grandson, now aged 5, ran through the crowd with a wooden sword trying to hit his cousin Matthew over the head. Matthew was only 3, but he was fast and loud, his excited squeals reaching the two men up above them.

William enjoyed the distant scene of chaos, he loved this moment of a campaign, the excitement and anticipation. He stood in silence, with a side-ways glance at his father. The spark in Giovanni’s eyes told him that he too loved this moment, but was sad to not be joining in.

‘All will be well father’ William finally said ‘these Spaniards don’t have the stomach for a long fight, King Phillip was a fool for getting involved in the low countries in the first place.’ Giovanni just stood and watched the energy below him.

With a sigh he gave a low grumble ‘I wouldn’t be so sure. You’ve never fought Spaniards have you Bill?’

William Hartson shook his head, he had not.

‘Well I have’ his father continued ‘and they fight like dogs once you get them cornered.’ A sound came back to him, the boom of cannon fire and the scream of dying men as Lord Scrope and his men died in a hail of gunpowder.

‘Father?’ William said again, a look of concern returning to his face.

‘AH ignore me son.’ Giovanni replied ‘just an old man’s memories is all, when did I get so introspective? I wish I was coming with you though.’

William Hartson gave a laugh, a solitary bark of amusement that rang through the din coming up from below.

Giovanni waved his hand dismissively. ‘I know, I know, an octogenarian riding into battle, trying not to break anything, no one wants to see that. But Lord how I loved battle Bill! This family’s name was made on the battlefield, I felt alive there like in no other place, that’s why I wish I was going.’

Giovanni glanced behind him and lowered his voice ‘That and don’t entirely trust Edward.’ William was silent but raised an eyebrow at his father. ‘Well sure he held the line well at Limberg, you were there, but that was one battle not a whole campaign. And this campaign has a different feel to it, Phillip is either mad or he has something planned for us that we can’t see, and I don’t like it. This is a game of politics as much as military, and Edward is distracted, DIck’s illness hit him hard.’

Dick, that is Emperor Richard I of the house of York, was still alive, but for all intents and purposes was at death's door. The debilitating pains had continued unabated and reduced him to the wizened husk of a man, he looked even more pathetic than Giovanni, 20 years his senior, or so the rumours said.

William Hartson thought about all of this for a moment and said ‘True father, but the army is not just one man, Richard of Gloucester is in overall command, and he is quite the tactician, and besides those fools Seymour, Boleyn and Antwerp are to stay in England, Cousin Edward is second in command.’ This would be a comfort to the old man William knew; the Hartsons, like the wider Yorks themselves were all about family, on paper at least. The presence of a few trusty cousins as leaders of the army would be a real stabilising force on King Edward and his party of Puritans.

‘Oh I know that’ Giovanni replied ‘And I trust you and Phillip Will, look after Arthur wont you?’ He nodded to the young man standing at the back of the courtyard talking hurriedly to the stable-master. Arthur Hartson was WIlliam’s heir, and the young Giovanni’s father. Even as William looked he saw the young boy scamper up to his father and tap him gently on the back of the leg with the sword, a clip on the ear was his reward.

WIlliam laughed again. ‘He can take care of himself’ he said with a smile. Then William caught the eye of Pascal his father’s steward who nodded to him from across the chaos, words would have been wasted.

Turning to his father he said ‘Well I must take my leave’.

‘I know son’ Giovanni said, turning to face William with what might have been a tear glinting in his eye, ‘been on so many of these where I’ve been the one riding off into the dust, can’t get used to having to stay behind.’ Grasping the inside of William’s arm and pulling him into a paternal embrace he muttered into his ear ‘give em hell wont you, and when you meet that Spanish **** tell him the Black Bastard sends his regards.’ He released his son with a pat on the taught leather armour on his back.

‘You know I will father, and behave for Anna and Doctor Amboise wont you?’

Giovanni affected a hurt expression ‘I have no idea what you mean my boy!’

With a chuckle and a final nod, William Hartson stepped back into the gloom of the villa, leaving his father, Giovanni Il Nero, son of Harts and veteran of so many wars to watch the young men of his household ride off to battle without him.
 
1577-1581 Part 1
The Yorkist Religious Settlement 1527-1581 G Barnard (2013)
To the surprise of many Edmund Grindal did not immediately introduce any harsh Puritan reforms when he became Archbishop. Of course he did order the usual ordinance of clergy, a census of all clergy in England, now extended to cover Wales, Ireland, Normandy, Picardy, Norland and Colombia, but this was something all three of his predecessors had done, it had become a tradition for new Archbishops to assess the state of the country’s clergy.

Grindal’s reticence is not entirely understood. The most common explanation is that Emperor Richard, despite the chronic pains he by now experienced daily, was able to keep a close eye and a short arm upon Grindal. However, this does not incorporate the fact that Grindal himself was not the raving Puritan he is often portrayed to be whilst simultaneously perhaps giving the ageing Emperor too much credit. Furthermore Grindal was no fool, he had seen the unrest of the previous six years and wisely decided to allow the situation to calm.

Other than the, by now statutory, ordinance, Grindal actually spent the 1576-1581 period consolidating the Britannic Church; a new copy of the Prayer Book was printed, this one specifically intended for settings beyond England, it was one of the first places to contain the Lord’s Prayer in Welsh, Irish and Nahuatl. Elsewhere, a few of the Archbishops new appointments could be described as Puritan - Robert Brown to Norwich, and John Whitgift to Rochester - but these were strongly Puritan areas by this point, and both men fit appropriately into their new roles.

However by 1580 something had to be done; Grindal stepped up the role of eccleciastical visitations, doubling the amount of clergy licensed to carry them out. The impact of this was that many Churches now saw a visitation for the first time and some Churches would get more than 3 in the next 2 years, St Bede’s in Jarrow holds the record with 6 visitations in 20 months. It was assumed that these visitations were to weed out the remaining Catholic influences within the Britannic Church itself, as the Knox compromise of still allowing ‘private faith’ was maintained. New research, however, has revealed how many of these clergy licensed to carry out visitations also appear in the King’s Records. That this institution by 1580 represented a domestic intelligence network is well-known. Therefore the implication is that Grindal allowed his clergy to be used, either knowingly or unknowingly, as intelligence agents to identify any opposition or more likely foreign agents.

This was the only major reform which Grindal enacted before 1581, and it is now thought to be one of the first instances of an eccleciastical measure with largely secular political aims. This crack-down on recusants and Catholics would, however, seem not to have been coming from Grindal himself but rather the context of the time. By 1580 the Low Countries War was entering its final stages, but the Connacht Rising was still going strong. Between this and the two English plots before 1580, there was a clear and present danger from a small minority of English Catholics and their foreign paymasters.

In 1577 Francis Throckmorton was arrested for treason. Like many previous plotters he was from Yorkshire and made his living as a lawyer. The Throckmorton Plot barely deserves the name as it never really got off the ground. The King’s Records, by now led by Francis Walsingham, had intercepted a number of letters between Throckmorton and a number of co-conspirators including Charles Paget and Thomas Morgan. The main issue confronting the plotters had been who to replace Edward VI with; Elizabeth of Thetfod, the surviving member of the Ware faction had died in 1571 and her two children with George Cromwell were died in the wool Puritans, not exactly fine choices for a new Catholic monarch. This left Prince Peter. Born in 1560 to Edmund, the only son of John of Ware, and his wife Catherine de Medici, Peter had been raised in a succession of palaces in northern Italy by his mother’s family and their contacts. With his tenuous claim to the English throne, and his staunch Catholic credentials (he had been blessed by the Pope on a number of occasions) Peter became the de facto choice for Catholic factions in England. The only main problem was that in 1576, when Throckmorton began his conspiracy, Peter was in Tuscany far beyond his reach.

Following the Navia Nina incident, and the discovery that the Spanish were making waves in the Low Countries, Britannic relations with Catholic Europe had cooled considerably and the chances of getting a message through to Peter in Florence were very low. Indeed, one of these attempts was discovered by Walsingham’s agents. In Autumn 1577 Throckmorton, Morgan and Paget were all arrested for treason and the Throckmorton Plot collapsed before it had really begun.

The Throckmorton Plot did have one major consequence: Throckmorton had kept detailed records of sympathetic Catholics and any other letters he had received. All of these papers were discovered in a hidden compartment behind his legal office. They were written in complex ciphers but within a few months Thomas Phelippes, who it now seems was the chief Cryptographer in the King’s Records, was able to break the code with explosive results. Not only did the Throckmorton papers yield over 1000 names for Walsingham to keep tabs on, but a later letter discovered and deciphered transpired to be from Bernardino de Mendoza, the Spanish ambassador in London.

The Mendoza letter made it clear, six months ahead of time, that Spain was actively trying to incite violence and a Catholic uprising in the Britannic Empire. Unfortunately, Throckmorton’s papers only really covered England and so the Connacht Rising remained hidden only a few months before it began. Yet the letter added more weight to the idea that Spain was a threat to the Empire, no matter how small. In response Mendoza was ejected from England, protected by diplomatic immunity, and an ultimatum was sent with him to Spain that the Spanish Crown give up all of its agents and contacts in the Empire, and remove its soldier from the low countries, or face war.

Phillip II had a plan, and it was complicated enough to survive the Throckmorton setback. When the ultimatum expired on New Year’s Day 1578 both realms prepared for war. Phillip had another iron in the fire, besides Seamus O’Neill, that being Anthony Babington. In the summer of 1578 Babington made contact with Antonio Bardi, the Venetian Ambassador, to discuss their smuggling of Prince Peter into England, and also the chances of the Duke of Parma landing an army in England. To facilitate this, Babington suggested lighting fires in the Royal dockyards of Portsmouth and Plymouth to act as a distraction for the Royal Navy. Unfortunately, Babbington’s had been one of the names in the Throckmorton papers and so all of these correspondences were being intercepted and monitored. In the end, the brutal campaign in Flanders that summer led Walsingham to preemptively arrest Babbington and expel Bardi from England.

The Throckmorton and Babbington plots amply showed the danger which the Empire still faced from internal Catholics still willing to communicate with foreign rulers to stir up trouble. They also explain why Grindal was wise to be slow in making new reforms, as the situation was already too fragile.Indeed by 1580 Walsingham’s agents had arrested and interrogated over 2000 Catholics, with another 10,000 under surveillance. However both of these plots are seen as mere footnotes to the wider conflicts of the time in Flanders and Ireland.
 
1577-1581 Part 2
The Making of Ireland D O’Farrell (2007)

Historians have tried to identify the secret to the success of the Connacht rising ever since it erupted in the Summer of 1578. Many failed attempts can be explained by ignorance or misunderstanding about the context of the time. Most infamously, TB Macauley - writing in the 1880s - outright claimed that the records of the rising must have been exaggerated by Irish Nationalists, his interpretation a thinly-veiled dismissal of the capabilities of the ‘Blacks and Irish’. Thankfully history has thrown out Macauley’s account, but the question remains: how was Seamus O’Neill able to seize power in Connacht, unite a previously feuding collection of rival clans, and hold influence over them for an unprecedented period of time?

Seamus O’Neill arrived in Ireland in the spring of 1578. He had never set foot on the island before this time. Seamus was the son of Diarmud O’Neill, the leader of the Gaelic realm in Norland. The young man possessed the Badb, a pale sword of Irish legend passed down from generation to generation and which his father had taken into exile, but he also possessed the weapons, tactical knowledge, and appearance of his mother’s people. Makoga of the Creek had married Diarmud some 20 years previously, uniting the Gaels and Creek of western Hampton [OTL Alabama and Florida Panhandle] into a symbiotic relationship. The Irish mastery of the bog and coastline complimented the Creek’s skills further inland.

Many historians, Macaulay included, have overlooked the significance of Seamus’ heritage. He was a son of the O’Neill, a claimant to the formant throne of Tir Eoghain, and in possession of Badb he could strike the image of the Gaelic warriors of old. But his Creek heritage was arguably more valuable. Those not taken in by this Gaelic hero were intimidated by his alien appearance. Unfortunately no accurate picture of Seamus O’Neill survives, but it is easy to see how the offspring of an O’Neill chieftain and Creek Princess would have looked familiar, yet alien, to the people of 16th century Ireland. Anecdotal Irish accounts of the King of Connacht, which have become more like legends, consistently refer to Seamus’ dark complexion and wide dark eyes. These same legends also tell of a warrior from beyond this life; for a time the Gaelic realm in Norland had been known as Mag Mell, the plains of joy from Irish folklore, and so a man claiming to be from there would have an ethereal quality to him.

Taken together, it is relatively easy to see why Seamus enjoyed the early success that he did. He was accompanied by 100 or so men from the new world. Most of them were, like him, descendants of those exiled in previous decades, but around a dozen or so were Creek warriors from his mothers’ tribe. Two of these died on the voyage to Ireland, but this still left a core of Creek who acted as Seamus’ personal bodyguard, and could intimidate any Irish opposition into submission. Seamus and his small force landed in Mayo in April 1578. King Phillip II had received word of these Spanish exiles living in the new world and had sent two ships to Ballynacorthy the previous year to encourage a rebellion in the homeland. Whether Phillip knew the wisdom of this move ahead of time is impossible to say, but if his intention was to distract the Britannic Empire at a critical moment as they mustered for war against him, then he succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.

Seamus was not only a walking propaganda machine, he was also smart. He knew enough from the elders he had been raised by, to know that the English and their lapdogs would move quickly to crush any opposition, east of the Shannon. Since its creation, the Kingdom of Ireland had focused entirely on Leinster, Munster and Ulster leaving COnnacht largely to its own devices. Three small garrisons in Galway , Sligo and Castlebar kept eyes upon the local population, but Connacht was largely uncontrolled by the Kingdom. Thus it provided an ample crucible to spark a rebellion into. Indeed it was two months before anyone in Dublin knew of Seamus’ arrival, by which time he had already begun to construct his army.

Seamus and his 100 men landed in western county Mayo and through a tenuous familial tie with one of his retinue, and sheer intimidation, was able to extract support from the local O’Malley and O’Flaherty clans. Gaining enough warriors to raze Castlebar, they stormed the fort and burned it to the ground before the tiny garrison could even respond. The rest of the summer of 1578 was spent on a propaganda drive. From Castlebar the rebels headed south for Tuam and Athenry. The Burkes of Galway, the Earls of Clanricarde, were the de facto power in Connacht. They had spent decades trying to win the support of the various clans of the province and had largely failed. Nonetheless they still owned the most land and could command the largest force. Seamus made them an ally. The ailing Richard Burke, patriarch of the family was apparently unhappy with the arrival of Seamus at Athenry in June 1578, and died shortly afterwards. Ullich Burke, the new Earl, married his daughter to Seamus and pledged his full support to the cause, Galway fell to the rebels shortly thereafter

Seamus, however, needed a bigger prize for the next stage of his plan. Any common Brigand could eliminate the garrisons of Castlebar and Galway - between them they numbered less than 200 - but Seamus wanted to be more than a common brigand. Through the Clanricarde’s alliances, and his own retinue from Ballynacorthy, Seamus also gathered the O’Shaughnessey, O’Conor Don and O’Brien of Thomond to his banner as he moved south to the fortress town of Limerick. East of the Shannon was considered the Kingdom of Ireland proper and so the towns along its bank -Limerick, Portumna, Athlone and Carrick - were built up as fortresses to protect the crossing. Limerick was also a major port and so it was easily the biggest of these fortress towns.

Sir Erich Brough had been installed as the Seneschal of Limerick in 1573 and had brutally suppressed the local population, including the Ballyguitenanne Massacre. He was universally hated outside the walls of Limerick. Seamus, by now leader of almost 2000 men, however knew from his allies that Limerick could withstand a siege, and that the Castle on King’s Island would be almost impossible to take by force. Thus on the night of the 16th of August 1578 Seamus and around 500 hand-picked men took the castle by stealth. Legend has taken of the Oiche de Fuile, but the most accepted story is that Seamus and his Creek swam the Shannon coated in tar and carrying only their weapons, scaled the walls bare-handed and butchered the sentries opening the gates for the rest of the force. Either way, dawn saw the castle taken, the town jubilant, and Eric Brough’s head looking over the whole scene from atop the wall.
The Fall of Limerick, and the tales it spawned, took the Connacht rising from a small rebellion, to a genuine threat to the wider Britannic Empire. When word reached Dublin of Brough’s death, it arrived on the heels of word from the Low Countries of the disaster that was the summer campaign. For King Michael, himself in Flanders, it sent him scurrying back to his realm and into a blind panic. For the first time in its history Ireland had sent soldiers to fight in a European war; the Leinster Company and another 3000 Lords and their retinues were in Flanders, leaving the island open to this kind of attack.

After Limerick, Seamus sent raiding parties east of the Shannon into Tipperary, Mellick [OTL Laois and Offaly] and Westmeath to gather as many supporters as possible and the harvest to feed them. Limerick’s granaries had been almost full giving the rebels ample supplies. The response was whatever the Kingdom of Ireland could provide; Sir Richard Butler and SIr Thomas Middleton and the 3000 men of the Munster Company rode for Limerick. The company’s cannon may have been enough to reduce the walls for storming, but this would take time and cause damage which would take a long time to repair. Therefore it is supposed that Butler and Middleton intended to keep the rebels west of the Shannon and engaged them if possible, although they never made it that far.

By late August 1578, Seamus O’Neill could command around 3000 men, similar to his opposition. But whereas the Kingdom’s soldiers were well-trained and armed in the Britannic fashion, the rebels had little armour or gunpowder weapons to speak of - only what they had taken from the three garrisons, which was not much. Instead the rebels fought in the traditional Irish style as light infantry with spears, javelins and little armour. There was no way that they could face the Munster company in open battle.

The Battle of Croom took place on the 2nd of September 1578. The harvest was ripening in the fields, and Seamus O’Neill had only another 2 weeks to gather it and retreat across the Shannon to hole up for winter. However Butler and Middleton approached Limerick from the south. Encountering a rebel scavenging party near Croom on the River Maigue, the light cavalry wing of the Munster Company pursued them north east across the River to cut them down. They were led into a trap, behind a steep wooded hill known as Ballinamona, the light cavalry were ensnared in traps and bogs, hemmed in by the trees even the Schragbus could not save them, useless as it was after one shot with the enemy bearing down upon the hapless user. In response, believing that he was still dealing with a raiding party, Thomas Middleton ordered the entire Company across the Maigue with the heavier cavalry streaming ahead led by Richard Butler.

This too of course, was a trap. But this time the bait were the rebels already destroying the light cavalry. As the heavier cavalry approached, they foundered in the boggy ground and at a crawl were easy targets for the rebel archers high on the hill to their left. Modern Cavalry was well-armoured, but the Creek and the men they had trained all summer were crack shots with the Creek composite bows and targeting the horses were able to bring down the armoured riders to add their flailing arms to the mire. At this point middleton must have known he was in danger as he formed his 2000 infantry into Hutton Square half a mile east of Croom in open fields.

Here Seamus O’Neill played his final card. In his haste Middleton had left behind the dozen light cannon of the Company in the village itself, believing that they would not be needed. This left them vulnerable to Ullich Burke’s small cavalry force riding in from the west, drawn by the smoke signal billowing from the top of Ballinamona. The Munster cannons were easily captured and Burke wasted no time in turning them upon the exposed infantry. There was little chance of unarmoured Ceithern behind able to shatter the Hutton Square where the might of Catholic Europe had failed, but the cannons could do the job. Middleton stood for over two hours as the cannons slowly reduced his formation; he could not advance or retreat for fear of the rebels - for surely this was the main rebel army now - encircling and destroying him. He was vulnerable without his cavalry screen.

As the sun began to set, Middleton ordered a general charge back towards Croom and their captured Canons hoping to at least clear the field. In the general melee that ensued the heavily armoured Munster infantry was overhauled and isolated by the swift Irish and Creek rebels, Burke delivering the final blow with a cavalry charge into the heart of the mobile formation, killing Middleton in the process. Dusk saw the Munster Company almost wiped out to a man, all prisoners were executed, and only a handful of the cavalry were able to escape east. The three thousand lives had exacted a high price; almost 1000 rebels lay dead beside them.

Nonetheless the Battle of Croom changed Ireland forever. It showed the servants of King Michael that they had been wrong to underestimate the Irish peasantry, and to simply dump them in Connacht or Norland, and they would be forced to deal much more harshly in future. Yet for Seamus it elevated him to the status of King. Victoriously returning to Athenry around Michaelmas, Seamus had himself crowned as King of Connacht and Tyrone at Tuam a few weeks later. By now his force had been joined by descendants and rebels from all four Provinces, and the people still living east of the Shannon were now much more willing to rebel come the spring. Seamus spent the rest of the winter in Limerick, Galway and Sligo - the latter having been abandoned after Croom - gathering forces to him and equipping and training them for the coming war.
 
I could see bad things happen to the Catholic ethnic Irish if they rise up - possible mass deportations to the New World...
 
I could see bad things happen to the Catholic ethnic Irish if they rise up - possible mass deportations to the New World...
Yep, though the last time that happened they created a ready-made group of rebels like Seamus O'Neill, so if they're exiled it wont be as pleasant for them (not that it was pleasant the last time).
 
1577-1581 Part 3
Between Two Worlds: Europe 1531-1606 O Thompson (2015)

By the spring of 1577 war was clearly returning to Europe. Tha Navia Nina scandal had blown wide-open the Spanish conspiracy in the low countries the previous year, and the Bruges blockade by the Imperial Navy only inflamed tensions further. In July 1577 a summit was held in Amiens, hosted by Edward of Oudenburg, the Imperial Constable, and attended by Edward VI and Phillip II as well as representatives from the Netherlands and the Catholic low countries. It was an ill-tempered meeting; the Protestant delegation demanded the immediate removal of Spanish soldiers and material from Brussels, Ghent, Liege and Luxembourg, threatening war.

These demands fell on death ears. The low country delegation led by Cardinal Antoine Perrenot de Granvelle used the very threat of war to justify the Spanish presence. Granvelle is an interesting character; a comte as well as a Cardinal, he was born in France but was by 1577 Archbishop of Liege and on the Spanish payroll. In short the Cardinal had his fingers in many pies, all of them belonging to the Catholic establishment; he was either their pawn or the glue which held them together. Regardless of his motives, de Granvelle was a master diplomat and frustrated any attempts to solve the disputes diplomatically. Not to be deterred, and hoping to preserve peace, Oudenberg persisted into August by which time the Throckmorton plot and the Mendoza letter had been discovered.

With incontrovertible proof that the Spanish were conspiring within the Empire to bring down King Edward VI and his father, the Amiens conference descended into threats and recrimination before finally the Catholic delegation departed for Brussels in disgust at the Protestant’s outrageous demands. It was here that the Union of Brussels was formed in September 1577. Superficially led by Cardinal de Granvelle, Phillipe de Croy and Juan de Austria, the Union comprised the Duchy of Luxembourg, the four french-speaking cities of Brussels, Bruges, Liege and Ghent, and the German cities of Mainz and Trier. Their stated goal was the collective defence of the low countries and the westrn bank of the Rhine from Protestant aggression.

In reality the Union of Brussels was a Spanish backed alliance designed to instigate and facilitate a war against the League of Copenhagen. The presence of Bruges, and absence of Antwerp are worth noting. Bruges was a Catholic city, and the main entrepot to the Union, but it had enjoyed close relations with the English crown for almost a century. It is thought that the leaders of the city were bribed or coerced into joining the Union, it was a good deal less viable without the maritime city. In contrast, Antwerp was able to resist the pressure to join the Union. Almost predominantly Catholic and a vital entry point, Antwerp differed in its proximity to the Netherlands. A large amount of the city’s trade was supplied by the Netherlands and the Protestant Lords up the Rhine, allowing them enough external influence to rebuff Phillip’s tentacles.

The response to the Union in Britannia was to be expected. Edward VI issued an ultimatum for the Union to disband, and again for Phillip to withdraw from the low countries, when this was ignored the Empire declared war on the Union and Spain on New Year’s Day 1578, immediately preparations for war in the coming season began. Despite a generation of peace, the Empire was still equipped for war. Between the 20 named companies from England and Picardy Edward VI could command over 60,000 men of which 10,000 were light cavalry and another 10,000 were heavy. Between them these companies could boast 120 siege guns and 240 lighter guns. The recently created Welsh companies could also provide 12,000 men between them, though of lesser quality, as Brittany too brought 6,000 and Ireland 9,000.

Edward VI ordered Richard the Younger, master of arms and horse and Earl of Pembroke and Gloucester, to command and organise the army with himself and Edward of Oudenburg as deputies. The army was ordered to assemble between Ostend and Calais, on the border with Bruges, for Palm Sunday. Given defensive measures, not all companies were present, but by April 1578 we know that the Imperial army had the following order of battle:

Piacenza: William Hartson
Calais: Riker (Richard) of Oudenberg, Earl of March
Marck: Arthur Hartson
London Martin Grey, Lord Bath
Aldgate Andrew, Lord Cobham
Norwich Charles Howard, Lord Cromer
Coventry Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond
Micklegate Magnus of Pembroke-Gloucester
Ludlow Sir Robert Williams
Bristol Sir Edmund Chatham
Winchester Edward, Prince of Wales
Lincoln Lord William Hastings
Nottingham Sir Martin Langborough
Exeter Sir Ambrose Fortescue
Stafford Sir Richard Bray
Rennes: Edward Danglais, Lord of Rennes (heir to Brittany)
Glamorgan: Thomas Stanley, Lord Monmouth
Gwynedd: Sir Arthur Cairns
Powys: Sir Edward Wright
Leinster: Sir Thomas Lucan

To these names were added the retinues of King Edward VI, Michael I of Ireland, the Oudenburg and Hartson houses as well as Robert Dudley, Earl of Newcastle, the Earl of Huntington, Earl of Arundel, Lord Hastings and another 15 or so Lords. With the 60,000 from the companies and another 15,000 from the retinues, Edward VI decided to dispatch 5 of the companies (Marck, Gwynedd, Exeter, Stafford and Powys)to the border with France. Little intelligence had been available, but Edward was taking no chances. Alongside this host came another 15,000 from the Netherlands and 10,000 from the Rhineland (Hesse and the Palatinate) to guard their respective borders. The plan was simple: attack the Union cities one by one, subjugate them, and destroy the Spanish army in the field if given the chance.

In Spring 1578 it was estimated that there were 15,000 Spaniards in the Union of Brussels under the Duke of Parma, with another 12,000 native soldiers. With the Imperial Navy blocking the channel, there was no way any Spanish ships could get east of the Isle of WIght, the route for reinforcements appeared shut off.

Initially the campaign went well; Bruges capitulated without a fight, it had been undefended, and perhaps was indefensible. Marching east, Ghent barred the gates and refused to surrender, and a siege ensued. By late June very little of note had happened; Britannic scouts went out every day but never spotted the Catholic army. Then on the 4th of July word reached the army that the Spanish were east of Brussels and marching towards Ghent with an army of 25,000 men led by the Duke of Parma. Spotting his chance for a quick victory, Edward VI left Richard the Younger outside Ghent, and took 35,000 men east to crush the Catholic resistance. The two armies met outside the village of Ninove on the 7th of July 1578.

Like much of the low countries, Ninove sits on a flat plain along the River Dender running north to south (or thereabouts). Parma had drawn his army up almost a mile away at Neigem with streams protecting his front and flanks, especially the right. Parma knew that all he had to do was hold Edward, with the King being obliged to advance across the open ground cut with drainage ditches and small streams. This was because Phillip had laid a trap for the Imperial army. Parma’s men numbered 25,000 true, but 15,000 were the best soldiers in the Spanish army, the rest being professional mercenaries from the Union of Brussels, especially Trier and Mainz. However Phillip had another 15,000 men in northern France, along with another 20,000 professional soldiers commanded by King Henri III.

Unbeknownst to all but a few people, Phillip and Henri had agreed an alliance in order to regain Brittany, Normandy and Picardy for France, and the Low Countries, including Ostend, for Habsburg Spain. Initial troop mobilisation in France had been low and masked to prevent discovery and it had paid off; Walsingham had some inkling of French movements but with the Throckmorton and Babbington plots, had his hands full. Now in early July, with Edward near Brussels, Pembroke outside Ghent with Phillip and Henri bearing down on him, and a smaller French army under Henry Duke of Guise invading Normandy, the Spanish King’s plan had worked to a tee.

Edward became aware of the trap the night before the battle of Ninove, but did not know Henri and Phillip’s exact position. He could also not adequately retreat with Parma less than a mile from him. Leaving Parma’s army intact was asking to be pincered between it and the Franco-Spanish force. In traditional Yorkist style, Edward VI was forced to attack.

Thankfully the Yorkists had already crossed the Dender and so did not have to waste time with a river crossing. Before dawn the Britannic army formed up facing south-east towards Neigem. Edward of Oudenburg controlled the vanguard, Edward VI in the centre, and on the left was Robert Dudley, the Earl of Newcastle. To the rear came William Hartson and the Piacenza Company, one of the most experienced, prestigious and storied companies to ever serve the House of York. Across the field Parma had adopted Tercios formation with his Spanish Empresas on the left flank, whilst Phillipe de Cloy held the small village itself with his Germans and Walloons.

The Battle of Ninove was not particularly pleasant, nor tactically sophisticated: Edward VI needed to break the Catholic army, and quickly, in order to allow him to withdraw and regroup with the rest of the army. As dawn rose, the Imperials advanced as swiftly as they could over the ground split by irrigation ditches, taking them almost an hour to cover the mile to the Catholic line. Here was the problem with the Hutton Square: it was almost invulnerable in a static defensive position, but over difficult terrain it was almost impossible to maintain a coherent formation and good order. The gulf between the Anglo-French and ‘Celtic’ companies became clear as the Glamorgan Company in particular struggled to maintain good order forcing Newcastle to stop and reorder his rearguard on the left flank. Consequently, this formation was out in the open for longer and so was more vulnerable to the Catholic artillery in the village of Neigem. Finally Oudenberg’s vanguard hit home with the Calais company in the vanguard led by his son Riker, Earl of March [Riker is a German version of Richard, officially he was born Richard Plantagenet, but as this would make him the 4569th Richard ITTL, he is known as Riker - his mother was German after all].

The Calais Company were one of the finest companies in the entire army, they had drilled almost daily for years in anticipation of battle, and through their well-honed techniques with Pike and Polearm were able to make large gaps in the Spanish line. Even fighting across a ditch, and against the cream of the Spanish army, the men of Calais fought like beasts possessed and were making excellent headway. In the centre the London companies under Lords Bath and Cobham were making way too, although struggling with a deeper incline. It seems that the Snelbus was still superior to any weapon which the Catholics possessed and was firing 4 shots for every 3 the Spanish could manage.

Nevertheless, by early afternoon, the earlier momentum had begun to wane, and Parma had identified Newcastle’s battle as the weakest and slung his own reserve at it to try and weaken the Imperial left flank. He had partially succeeded; Edmund Chatham, commander of the Bristol Company, had fallen and his extreme left flank had collapsed. The Imperial Cavalry had been locked in roving skirmishes all morning with their Catholic counterparts and so it fell to William Hartson and his Piacenza cavalry to wheel around the entire rear of the battle into Parma’s flank.

Around mid-afternoon a dusty rider arrived at the rear of Edward’s army to report that Henri and Phillip were only 12 miles away at Ronse to the south-west, and they genuinely threatened the King’s retreat if they could reach the River Scheldt before he did. The retreat was immediately ordered, and three things happened in quick succession. Firstly, either through stubbornness or poor communication, the entire Imperial line disengaged save for the Calais Company, who continued to fell Spaniards even as their allies retreated. Second, Parma sensed blood and ordered a further charge on his own wing where de Cloy’s men had been freshest, here the retreat turned into a rout as the Glamorgan once more fell behind and was broken by the Mainz heavy cavalry which had waited in reserve. Finally, seeing all of this, Hartson and the Piacenza cavalry moved south behind the Catholic line and attacked the Spanish from the rear to allow the Calais men to disengage. This was successful, but it cost William Hartson, heir to Giovanni Il Nero his life.

Exhausted, and harried, the English army marched swiftly north west through the night making for the Scheldt and the relative safety of Pembroke’s army. Ninove had been a technical victory for Edward VI; over 10,000 Catholics lay dead, and Parma’s men were too beaten and bloodied to mount a sustained chase. However, the loss of Hartson, and over 9,000 men to death, injury or exhaustion was a crucial blow against the Britannic Empire.

Dawn of the 8th of July was red and raw. Edward’s army stumbled across the Scheldt at Gavere victorious, but not feeling it. After a whole day’s fight and night’s march, very few were in a state to fight, and the French had arrived. Richard the Younger had 25,000 fresh soldiers and a further 25,000 who were bloodied and exhausted. However he was sandwiched between the Franco-Spanish army and Ghent to south and north, and the Rivers Scheldt and Leie to east and west: he could not move in any direction until he had defeated Henri and Phillip. The French and Spanish had between them 35,000 men, but these were some of the best that they could field, to the east across the Scheldt came a further 9,000 men led by Parma, although these were as exhausted as Edward VI’s men. Finally to the north, 2000 cavalry had readied for battle in Ghent led by Juan de Austria.

The Battle of Biesen began on the 8th of July around mid-morning. Henri and Phillip had delayed in order to allow Parma’s force to recover and get into position to attempt to force the Scheldt at Gavere. In any event they fortified the town with light cannon to act as a distraction to Pembroke’s left flank. This task the English commander gave to the Earl of Richmond, Henry Tudor, though on paper Edward VI was also in attendance. Pembroke held the centre himself whilst the right fell to his brother Magnus and the Micklegate Company supported by Oudenburg and the fittests elements of his force from Ninove.
Biesen was similar to Limberg in that the Imperial army merely had to hold the field and had the advantage of protected flanks. However many years had passed since Limberg, and the French and Spanish had their own mobile cannon, which were used at the start of the battle.

Thus the Catholics, though outnumbered in total, were able to pin the Protestants using cannon and then strike in overwhelming numbers at certain locations. After a general probing attack, the main thrust came around noon when the entire Catholic army engaged the Protestants but Francois of Anjou led a shocking charge of heavily armoured Frenchmen into Tudor’s flank, whilst Parma poured fire into them from across the River. The results were devastating; Tudor fell and was taken prisoner, and would succumb to his wounds, leaving the exhausted Edward VI to turn the flank out of range of Parma’s men and in the process surrender it to Anjou.

In a feat of bravery or stupidity, Magnus of Pembroke left his own battle and with a force of 1000 northern heavy cavalry sallied down the shallows of the River Leie and into Phillip’s own flank, evening the score and rotating the entire battle line by 90 degrees. The Imperial army was now fighting with their left flank pointing to the city of Ghent and their back to the Leie, but they had held. In the ensuing brutal melee, another English sally, this time led by the Earl of Huntington, crippled the Catholic centre where Henri III fought. But this gap was immediately filled by Parma’s men now riding across the River Scheldt.

As the day wore on, the superior Britannic numbers began to tell. Even Juan de Austria’s charge out of the city had been blunted by quick thinking from King Edward who took personal control of Tudor’s remaining company and formed a pike wall just in time to meet the sally. Across the field, Henri and Phillip held a hasty parley in the ruins of a shattered pumphouse and decided that they had done enough damage for one day; the balance of power was shifting towards the Protestants as time passed, and they decided to cut their losses and order the retreat. The Imperial army was too exhausted to give chase, save for Henry de la Pole who led a collection of the surviving light cavalry in harassing attacks with Schragbus earning himself an ennoblement to the Earldom of St Albans in the process.

Utterly exhausted, the Imperial army pulled back to the north west and reached the channel on the 10th of July Biessen had claimed the lives of Tudor and another 12,000 Britannic soldiers, bringing their forces on the continent to less than 40,000. The only saving grace was that the Catholics had lost 18,000 men meaning that the armies in the Low Countries could manage half of that. The deciding factor was that this land was effectively hostile terrain to the Protestants and so there was now little they could do but hold the border and send for reinforcements from England, Germany, the Netherlands and the Colombias.

The news back in Calais was rather grim. Giovanni, on the news of his son’s death at Ninove, had himself died leaving Arthur Hartson the new Duke Of Normandy. This was rather fitting for a man who had spent his summer pursuing French partisans across Normandy and Picardy. Whilst his Lord had invaded the low countries, Henri de Montmerency had led a disparate band of some 10,000 French Catholics into English territory burning and pillaging. Centuries of fighting the French had taught the English well: fortifications and walled towns made lucrative spoils hard to find, and Montmerency had to content himself with mere Brigandry. Nonetheless the new Duke of Normandy, de facto commander of 18,000 men, had acquitted himself well. Out of recognition, or possibly guilt, Arthur decided to sever his titles, making his Uncle Phillip Earl of Amiens whilst retaining the more prestigious Normandy title for himself.

Further bad news came from Ireland where King Michael learned that the fort at Castlebar had been destroyed, although further information about what would become the Connacht Rising was at this stage hard to come by. Michael naturally wanted to return home, but Edward VI forbade this. The cousins, under Wyatt’s legal provisions, were technically equals, but with the Emperor absent, it was clear to all present who was calling the shots. Michael opted to remain in Calais for what turned out to be a fateful month.

After a fortnight to recover, Edward VI was anxious to be on the march again. There were still almost two months of the summer campaign season remaining and he knew that he had to achieve more to show for the deaths of Tudor, Hartson and their 20,000 or so countrymen. With the new Duke of Normandy, the Duke of Brittany, and the new Earl of Amiens patrolling the border with 20,000 men between them, Edward took his 40,000 men and once more marched on Ghent. What they discovered at the field of Beissen only deepened hostilities. The Protestant dead had been left to rot for two weeks in the summer sun, with no burial rights. The Catholic force had at least buried their own dead before the retreat towards Paris.

The English King was filled with wrath and after a day of heavy bombardment of the walls of Ghent, he demanded their surrender and the protection of property, which was hastily accepted. Having used this time to finally give their dead the burials they deserved, Edward now faced a choice. He could call it a season, with August only a few days old, or he could move on Brussels and seek a greater prize. Given his Yorkist blood, Edward probably favoured the latter option, but in the end his decision was made for him.

After Beissen, Henri and Phillip had retreated to Paris to regroup, where they were joined by Montmerency and Parma. France had actually stayed peaceful during a war. Henri III had spent the early years of his reign subjugating unrest, and with the Huguenots removed to Norland, a major threat to his authority had gone. Therefore when news reached the two Kings of Edward’s march on Ghent, they were ready with their 39,000 men and a further 6,000 new recruits from the south, giving them the slight number advantage over Edward’s 40,000, they made the decision to ride north.

Edward VI was taking on supplies in Ghent from Antwerp when he heard of the Catholic army’s approach. Simultaneously he learned that his desperate plea after Beissen had been heard. William I arrived with 15,000 men and his second in command Johan van Oldenbarnevelt, a veteran of the Palatinate War. Approaching from the north-east, the two armies met north of Brussels in mid August 1578 and camped at Lebeke allowing for resupply up the Scheldt from Antwerp. Here they stayed as the Catholics approached.

Phillip and Henri by now knew that they were once again outnumbered, and so waited at Ronse for Phillip’s new forces to arrive from Spain. Having had to march across France, a further 15,000 men were in Paris by the 17th of August when Edward VI learned of their presence. Edward VI knew he would have to abandon his well chosen position and advance on the Catholics before their reinforcements arrived. Initially Phillip and Henri stood their ground, but eventually realised that Edward meaned to attack them, and so they retreated as far as Mons where they finally formed up for battle.

William I was reluctant to march so far south, but Edward VI was able to convince him that between them they could defeat Henri and Phillip in the field, before their reinforcements arrived. On the 23rd of August, the two armies finally confronted one another to the west of Mons, Phillip’s reinforcements under Francisco Verdugo still 20 miles away. Nonetheless the Protestant army decided to give battle trusting in their superior numbers and leadership. Today a canal runs west to east across the battlefield at Mons, but in 1578 this was nothing but boggy ground, though dried out through the long hot summer. Henri and Phillip drew up on the low ridge to the south of this ground, the town of Mons to their right. Henri held this flank with Anjou and Montmerency in the centre with Phillip on the left and Parma holding reserve. The Franco-Spanish army was around 40,000 men largely equipped as Tercios, although 8,000 were cavalry which Parma led. They also had a number of cannon dug into prepared redoubts facing north, allowing them to fire over the heads of their line until the final moment.

Across the narrow defile stood the Protestant army. As a mark of courtesy, and perhaps remembering his skill at Limbeg, Edward VI allowed William I to lead his entire force as a roving reserve, himself commanding the 3,000 Cavalry and van Oldenbarnevelt the 9,000 infantry. The newly enobled St Albans (Henry de la Pole) commanded a 3,000 strong light cavalry screen and the remaining 40,000 men formed up in line, or so it appeared. Edward had arrived before dusk the previous day and seen how the Catholic monarchs had arranged their forces. The obvious route would be to attack directly south, straight into the Catholic artillery, and so Edward hatched a plan. He gave Pembroke some 8,000 of his best men, including the Calais and Piacenza companies and sent them on a march to the west to approach Phillip II’s flank from the west, behind his guns. Meanwhile he gave Pembroke’s banner, and command of the right flank to Edward of Oudenburg whose ‘15,000’ men were in fact half made up of squires, camp followers, cooks and other orderlies marching in the rear ranks. Their job would be to look convincing until Pembroke attacked and nothing more.

In the centre stood two Kings; Edward and Michael with another 15,000 men including Riker, Earl of March and Lord’s Cobham and Bath. Finally the left flank Edward gave to his Uncle the Earl of Huntington who had the job of holding Magnus of Pembroke on a leash until he could be most used. This army may have been battered earlier in the summer, but they were ready for battle once more. The day began hot and clear, excellent line of sight for the French and Spanish gunners, and Edward move the army swiftly forward. Less than half a mile away, a new formation appeared on the ridge to the East of Phillip’s flank: Pembroke and his men had completed their circuitous march and had appeared unexpected through a dense copse almost behind the Spanish King’s flank. Parma immediately tried to drive them off, but found his cavalry vulnerable against the Hutton Squares of Piacenza, Calais and Norwich. From this position, a handful of small cannons successfully planted within the Square for the first time in History, Pembroke had easy targets on the Catholic flank.

At this moment Oudenburg’s fake soldiers fled to the rear, guarded by the Dutch, and his remaining 7,000 charged up the last few yards of slope as Pembroke’s did from the West. This envelopment maneuver worked beautifully and Phillip was forced to turn his flank and abandon half of his own guns to the English. Across the rest of the line, the French fared rather better: Anjou, Montmerency and their King were all able to manipulate mismatches and areas where they had dominance. Anjou once again used his hit squad to tear the Nottingham company apart, forcing Oldenbarnevelde to commit some reserves to the gap. On th right flank Henri III was able to isolate and surround Huntington’s command, and was only driven off by another nigh-suicidal charge by Magnus of Pembroke. The majority of the Lincoln company were saved but Hungtinton died in the melee, leaving Magnus to take command.

The Catholics stood their ground for a number of hours. The flanks were so snarled up that St Albans was unable to make his light cavalry count, and they spent much of the battle searching for weak spots which did not exist. Very slowly, the Catholic left folded inwards and risked jeopardising the entire line, and infantry charge by Parma was able to stem the damage for a time but not indefinitely.

Then just past noon the storm clouds began to gather and a torrential thunderstorm began. The hard, baked ground was impermeable to this deluge, and instead the bog at the foot of the ridge began to slowly reappear. This gave the Protestant Cavalry problems as they struggled to navigate around their own rear, and Orange’s reserves were hampered as well. Yet the battle continued, with both sides fighting almost to a standstill. Henri slipped and fell in the mud, and was dragged to the rear giving Magnus a foothold on the eastern end of the ridge. In the centre Lord Cobham died, but in the process had carved an opening for the Prince of Wales’ guard to drive a wedge between Anjou and Montmerency. The slog continued, but just like at Beissen, the Protestants were slowly taking the day. And then Verdugo arrived.

The Spanish Maestre de Campo had run his army at almost double time for 20 miles in searing heat and torrential rain, and around a quarter would never reach Mons in time, half of them trickled in over the late afternoon. But Verdugo himself, knowing the stakes, had taken his cavalry wing and arrived on the field in a triumphant clatter into the side of the Piacenza company. Perhaps any lesser force would have folded then and there, but the Pizacenza’s were chosen for their ambition and honour, and they stood their ground. Nonetheless Verdugo’s forces were able to reinforce the line, driving the Prince of Wales back down the slope.

AS the battle slowly swung back towards the Catholics the rain finally stopped. The field was by now slick with the dead and dying, all of them lying in the mud. Most of the Catholic cannon had either been taken or made worthless whilst every man was reaching exhaustion. With two exceptions. St Albans and William I had struggled in the rain, and although it had stopped the ground was still treacherous. But they had seen a vulnerability in Henri’s battle. The French king was still receiving treatment in the rear, and Verdugo’s reinforcements had not yet reached his side of the field. Taking all their remaining men, the Dutch roared up the ridge in support of Magnus the Red (the title this battle would earn him) whilst St Albans’ lancers looped around the rear just as Giovanni’s men had done at Limberg.

Henri III spied the danger, but had no more reserves with which to stem the tide. For fear of being overrun he ordered the retreat, and this time his army obeyed him. Anjou and Montmerency in the centre were crucial in protecting the orderly retreat, as was Verdugo and his force. The Battle of Mons was the bloodiest of the Low Countries War so far. The Catholics left over 20,000 men on the field, whilst the Protestants lost somewhere around 18,000 men, the consequences of fighting uphill all day against an entrenched foe. The sheer brutality and mindlessness of it all could not be comprehended.

Once again the Protestants had won the field, and almost all of the Catholic canon, although most had been spiked. Although it again did not feel like a victory: Huntington and Cobham were dead, as well as Lords Hastings, Keyes and Holland. Furthermore, Edward was again aware that he was in enemy territory and marched immediately for Lille in his own lands.

On arriving in Calais there was once again bad news. King Michael was devastated to hear of the fall of Limerick and this time Edward allowed him to take the Leinster Company and head for home. On the other hand the frontier had remained quiet; it seemed like all the Catholic anger had been spent at Mons. The 1578 was by no means a tragedy; Bruges and Ghent had been subdued, and there had been three narrow victories. But the costs had been incredibly high.

By the autumn it was clear that Ireland was in a state of Civil War, and Edward sent the Chester and Carmarthen companies to aid his cousin Michael. Furthermore it was evident that the war in Europe was far from over: France and Spain still had 35,000 men, and the capacity to call on more. The Union of Brussels was still relatively intact, Bruges and Ghent had been peripheral members at best. But worst of all, Ferdinand of Austria and William of Bavaria had both sent pledges of support. Only time would tell if they were worth the paper they were written on.

Edward VI could not rest easy across Winter of 1578, there was plenty of preparation to do. The Old World was engulfed in flame, and it would fall to the New World to come and put them out.
 
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