Free-man Stand or Free-man Fa'

Free-man Stand or Free-man Fall

SCOTS, who hae wi’ WALLACE bled,
Scots, wham BRUCE has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to Victorie!

Now’s the day, and now’s the hour,
See the front o’ battle lour,
See approach proud EDWARD’s power—
Chains and Slaverie!

Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward’s grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!

Wha, for Scotland’s King and Law,
Freedom’s sword will strongly draw,
FREE-MAN stand, or FREE-MAN fa’,
Let him on wi’ me!

By Oppression’s woes and pains,
By your Sons in servile chains,
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!

Lay the proud Usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
LIBERTY’s in every blow!—
Let us Do or Die!

--Robert Burns, “Bruce’s March to Bannockburn”

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ONE

LOCHLEA, SCOTLAND—12 SEPTEMBER 1772

“BOBBY, why are you bein’ so stubborn?”

Robert Burns sat in a room inside his father’s house, listening to a friend of his named John Campbell attempt to persuade him.

Persuade him to join a revolutionary movement.

“You know I’m too young fo’ this. I don’ fancy hangin’ from a gallows at sixteen[*]!”

“Aye, lad, you’re young. But we need young blood. We need all the blood we can get!”

“What wad my father think? Young Bobbie goin’ off tae war. Likely gettin’ himsel killed. Aye, if I join, I’ll be givin’ you blood alright!”

John glared at Robert. “You’ll be givin’ blood whether you want to or not. They say auld King Georgie is goin’ insane. The colonies across the sea are growin’ restless. Things are changin’, Bobbie, and cert’ly not for the better.”

Robert still shook his head.

“Damn it, Bobbie, this is serious. I’ll tell you what. I’ll talk to auld Will for you. If he doesn’t mind, will you join?”

“If you’re sae insistent, aye. I’ll get ‘im for you right now.”

Robert disappeared into another room for a second. He soon reappeared, leading his father William Burness into the room.

“Ah, John, what’re you tryin’ tae get my son tae do this time?”

“Get rid o’ the English.”

“Ha! So you’ll kill both of you tryin’ tae chase some wil’ goose? Not this time, John. It was games before, but this is treason.”

“If we fail, not only us tway but ten thousand others’d die as well. I never said we’d do it alone.”

“What do you think o’ this, Bobby?”

“I think he’s lyin’ about the ten thousand others.”

“Then you’re not goin’.”

John walked out of the house, mumbling something incomprehensible.

LONDON, ENGLAND—18 SEPTEMBER

JOHN Burgoyne descended the stairs outside his house. As he did, a servant ran up.

“Sir, the paper.”

John took the newspaper from his servant’s hand. Not much to see. Just the usual things around England, and a story about some new act by the so-called “Sons of Liberty” in the colonies.

But something in a corner caught his eye. “Harry, look at this. There’s been a murder in Aberdeen.”

“So what? There’s murders every day somewhere in Britain.”

John held up a hand. “‘Beside the body was found a note with the words ‘Sic Semper Tyrannis’”—Latin for ‘Thus always to tyrants’. Looks like the work of some revolutionary group. There’s more: ‘The murder is believed to be the work of a revolutionary group in Aberdeen. There has been a recent increase in the number of murdered bodies carrying the group’s trademark—an X, or, rather, a St. Andrew’s cross, carved in the chest.’ All of the recent victims were connected with the government in some way. The latest one was a clerk.”

“Do you think that there is a rebellion at hand?”

“Undoubtedly. But we must wait to see what happens, exactly.”
--------
[*I have aged Robert by three years for story purposes.]

ABERDEEN, SCOTLAND--25 SEPTEMBER

"BLASTET fools! I tol' you na tae kill anyone 'less I said so!" John Cambell's accent died away as he grew calmer. "And most certainly not to use the cross."

All the people in the room with him cowered in fear. An angry John was the last thing they wanted. When they saw him calm down, they began relaxing--but kept on their guard.

"I have here a paper from England. Listen: 'The murder is believed to be the work of a revolutionary group in Aberdeen.' They know its us. Now, lads, any ideas?"

"Move again?"

"Not an option. The tyrants likely have us well watched now. Georgie may be stick-an-stowe mad[*], but his advisors aren't. They're unco clever, and we need a very good plan to get around them. Charlie!"

One of the people in the group, the treasurer, suddenly started up.

"Ah, Charlie, you weren't asleep, were you? Ne'er mind. How are we as to finances?"

"Not sure."

"Damn you gawkies! Why don't you know?"

"Er, wait. I got a paper here... two-an-twenty pounds--"

"That's all?"

Charlie held up a hand. "A hundred... thirty... fifteen hundred... I'd say sixteen hundred twenty-two pounds."

John nodded. "How quickly do you think we'd be able to raise an army if we began our revolt on short notice?"

Another man--Edward MacGill--came up with the answer. "Five thousand infantry, twelve hundred cavalry--if we are lucky, of course. Likely more if we waited a bit, spread the word to some of the Scots in the army."

"Good, we could use some experienced warriors. Right. Edward, go to some of the Scottish regiments on the Island, very quickly get them to join and get leaves to go home. Charlie, see if you can get some more donations, willing or unwilling--or unknowing. If anyone needs me, I'll be in Ayrshire."

"Why?"

John smiled. "Recruitment. What else?"

LOCHLEA, SCOTLAND--27 SEPTEMBER

"AYE, lad, I knew we made the right choice. John is from Aberdeen, right? It were prob'ly him who killed that man."

Robert nodded. Suddenly, they heard a knock on the door. Robert opened it. It was John Campbell.

Robert moved to close the door. But William shook his head. Instead, Robert motioned for John to enter.

"We know what you did, John."

John shook his head. "I wasn't the one wha did that. One of my men--yes. Without my orders. But because of that, I am speeding up the plans. There are many willing men here in Ayrshire. There are plenty more in the Highlands. Our estimates are six thousand right away, likely twenty thousand more within six months. If we take Edinburgh and Glasgow, I'd say we could easily get fifty thousand on our side."

Robert looked at his father. He looked slightly intrigued. Perhaps... Robert thought. Then, his father spoke.

"How long wald I have to get the people here tae join?"

"A month, two months. You might get caught, you might not. I'll send a messenger when I want you to get moving."

William nodded. "We'll be ready."

[*King George's insanity wasn't actually very pronounced until much later. But the Scots think otherwise.]

[Another note: You may notice that John Campbell's accent changes constantly. That's just part of his character.]

Sing hey my braw John Highlandman!
Sing ho my braw John Highlandman!
There's not a lad in a' the lan'
Was a match for my John Highlandman!
--"The Jolly Beggars"

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TWO

LOCHLEA, SCOTLAND--7 OCTOBER 1772

WILLIAM Burness eyed all the men who came through the door. He had a good idea of who was likely to tell the English what was happening. If such a person came through the door, he would give them a stare and say, "You'd better leave." The person promptly did so. They likely would be suspicious, but better that than the person find out exactly what was happening.

Once no more people were arriving, Will had the door locked and the windows shut. No noise would leave the room. Once this was done, Will went up to the front. As soon as he did, all the chatter died away.

"I know what you're thinkin'. What is auld Willie up tae this time? I'll tell you. It does hae somethin' tae do wi' the fact that I told some people to leave. I don' want them tae hear what I hae tae say next.

"You've likely heard o' the murder in Aberdeen twa weeks past. It was the work o' a group under John Campbell. I'm here tae ask you tae join wi' the group.

"Now, you're thinkin', 'I'm nae murderer!' Well, killin' soldiers is nae murder in my view. Aye, we're startin' a rebellion. Now, I know this is an odd announcement tae make sae suddenly and in front of sae many people. That's why I told all those people tae leave. I couldn't trust them. You people I can. My lad Robert here and I will now gi'e muskets tae all those who will join wi' us. Oh, and who won't join?"

A moment of silence ensued.

William nodded. "Right. Come up here, then. Bobby, gi'e them the muskets. Looks like Johnny has a hundred more on his side."

The men came up and grabbed the muskets. They were the "Brown Bess"--horribly inaccurate, but cheap and able to get off many rounds a minute. These people were no marksmen, and there was no reason to waste rifles on them. Volume of fire would matter in the coming battles. The close-packed English formations would be easy enough to hit.

Once everybody had weapons, William leaned over to Robert. "Ayr next. Let's see if we can get a large group."

He then turned back to the crowd. "Take the muskets home, but don' tell anyone. You're the only people I trust. If you tell anyone else, they may mention it tae the English. No recruitment--that's my job. I know wha will fight for us. Now go back tae your homes--and nae a word!"

AYR, SCOTLAND--2 DECEMBER

WILLIAM and Robert had been going through Ayrshire for months. They had five thousand on their side. Now, the men were training.

It would seem difficult to hide the fact that you are training five thousand men for some sort of martial array. But when you make sure that all the men around are on your side, there is no need to hide it.

Those loyal to the English or King George were immediately terrorised until they left for fear of their lives. Ayrshire was now fully the territory of the Scottish rebels.

The organisation of the group went as follows: William, of course, was the leader. Robert, and his brother Gilbert, commanded twenty five hundred men each. Their commands were broken each into five regiments of five hundred men each.

To train, they would have Robert and Gilbert's men go at each other. They would not carry guns; instead, the two would go through maneuvers and William would see if they would work. The men became used to taking orders. Afterwards, they would go to an entirely different location to train with the guns and bayonets.

However, today, before they could start, a messenger came to William, who immediately called his sons over. The message was simple: William was to march his forces to Edinburgh.

LONDON, ENGLAND--8 DECEMBER

JOHN Burgyone took the most recent reports. The situation was serious: rebellious Scottish forces were moving into the Lowlands, specifically for Edinburgh.

"What's the latest news?"

John turned to tell Henry Clinton, who had been given command of a large army to destroy the Scots.

"Five thousand infantry moving out of Ayrshire towards Edinburgh, supposedly under the command of one William Burness. I think Glasgow will be cut off."

"No, they won't leave too many people behind. They're all headed for Edinburgh."

"Edward MacGill's five thousand cavalry are turning towards Edinburgh as well."

"Hah! They're concentrating--easier to defeat that way! Send all of--"

Burgyone motioned that there was more. "John Campbell, who seems to be their leader, has doubled his own force. He now has--wait, this can't be right--nine thousand?" Burgyone looked up. "How--this is getting serious! We have to defeat them before they all collect together. All we have is fourteen thousand of all arms--they could easily outnumber us! Start getting more recruits. It looks like Burness' force is closest and easiest to hit. That will be our target. Once he is gone, they will have only as many as we do--and no army on the Earth can defeat the British when they are of an equal size."

"But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread.
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll mak it whissle;
An' legs an' arms, an' heads will sned,
Like taps o' thrissle."
--Address to a Haggis

THREE

HAMILTON, SCOTLAND--12 DECEMBER

FIVE thousand men marched down a mountain path. Below ran the River Clyde, which the army had crossed a day ago. They were well on their way to reaching Edinburgh.

Robert felt that there was something wrong. Wait--someone in red on that cliff...

"The English!"

The cliff above them suddenly burst into flame. The flame of two hundred guns firing at once. The smoke rose away, and many Scots were dead on the ground.

William's soldiers, despite the obviously demoralising advantage the English had, gave their own volley. Numbers told, and half the English fell dead at once. William knew they would not be alone, of course.

"Take tha' ridge! There'll be more where they came from!"

The Scots rushed around frantically for a way up. One found it. It was a narrow trail, but served its purpose. Scots scrambled up it and soon had a hundred up their themselves. Bayonets came out. A furious fight began. Blood began running on the stones. Finally, enough Scots came up to force the English to surrender.

William himself found who he decided was the leader.

"Wha are you with? Where's the rest o' your army?"

"John Burgyone's three thousand. And they're right over there."

William turned. Sure enough, a sea of red appeared on a nearby ridge.

"This'll slow us down." He sighed. "Well, looks like there'll be more English tae kill."

William turned to Robert. "Any ideas?"

Robert began to shake his head, but then grabbed the dirt on the ground. It was soft, and easy to move his hands through. He grabbed his gun and drove the bayonet through the ground. It struck rock six inches down. So much for that idea.

"What was that for?"

"I was thinkin' about makin' trenches."

"Damn it, Bobbie, we're nae besiegin' a fort!"

"We're near bein' besieged ourselves. Look."

Five thousand English soldiers came up, twenty-five hundred on each side.

"Here it comes, lad."

They grew visibly pale. Now the English outnumbered them. William turned to the captured officer.

"What do you think we shald do?"

"Surrender?"

William smiled. "That's why you're English and nae Scottish. Nae Scotsman worth his haggis wald gie that answer."

"Stand your ground and kill as many English as you could, hoping that you'll force them to retreat?"

"Good, lad, that's mair like it."

Drums brought the English forward. With their red coats, the approaching English seemed like a river of blood, ready to drown the Scots and make more blood in the process.

A volley came from the Scottish line, which had formed up upon the many ridges. A good amount of English went down, but not good enough. They fired once, then charged in with bayonets fixed. William had the same done. With a crash, the unstoppabale English juggernaut struck the unmovable Scottish rock.

Robert ran his bayonet through the first Englishman who came his way. Alternating shouts of "Freedom!" and "Damned traitors!" filled the air. Mixed in with that were the screams of the wounded and shouts of rage. Above all were the sounds of guns hitting each other. They all mixed to create a cacophony that was collectively termed the sounds of battle. It was certainly not pleasant.

An Englishman swung his gun as a club at Robert. He took the opportunity to try and jab the bayonet through the enemy's neck. However, the gun connected, and Robert's shoulder nearly broke. As it was, he had to take a few seconds to recover, and was nearly skewered in the process. His right arm was still mostly unusable, so he merely stepped out of the way, switched the gun to his left hand, and did the best he could at hitting the other person on the head with the gun. He succeeded this time and stunned the Englishman. He now could bring the bayonet to bear and killed his enemy.

Soon, his right arm recovered, and he went back to killing. Robert was unable to tell whether the line was moving forward at all, or even backward. He merely knew that he was killing Englishmen by the dozens, and his fellows were doing so as well--but many being killed in the process. In the end, there was no way of knowing.

Suddenly, he realised that the number of Englishmen around had sharply dropped. Now, most were in the distance, and quickly receeding. He gave out a whoop--some guns went off, but had little effect on the distant soldiers. Some of the English, afraid that they would be run down, surrendered immediately. Robert pointed one to the group of captured English quickly forming in the center around the soldiers they had first taken. William rode up.

"I see you're well, Robbie. Except you're right arm's a bit more limp than usual..."

"Got hit by a gun there. Nae bad. Hae you seen Gilbert?"

"He's fine. Walie cut i' the face, but it's been dressed."

Robert looked at the sun. It was setting.

"How long 'till we start marchin' again? In the morning?"

"One night's rest is all these men need. I hope it's all you need as well."

"Of course. We'd best be mair on our guard, though."

"Why waldn't we?"

13 DECEMBER

Robert slowly opened his eyes. He was almost immediately aware that his shoulder was still quite sore. He got up using his left arm (it wasn't easy). As he turned around, he saw someone there.

It was Gilbert.

As William had said, he had been cut across the face--more specifically, from his forehead, through his left eye, and across his left cheek.

"Gilbert! I waldn't expect you tae be walkin' about this soon after a wound like that..."

"It's nae that bad. If that b-----d Englishman hadn't've gotten my eye, I waldn't hae though much o' it."

"What happened tae him?"

"He won't be seein' anythin' at all 'till Judgement Day. How's your wound, Bobbie?"

"Nae bad, but it hurts like the deil himsel made it. An' wha's tae say he didn't?"

Gilbert nodded. As he did, William rode up.

"Gilbert! Bobbie! Glad tae see you both up an' about."

"Is the army movin'?"

"Aye. In fact, we've been waitin' for you."

"How many did we lose i' the battle?"

"Twa hundred fifty. At least a thousand English dead, another thousand captured."

Robert's eyes widened. Gilbert had to substitute a gape.

"Don't stand there, lads, let's go!"

NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE, ENGLAND--30 DECEMBER

A GROUP of dragoons galloped through the streets on their way to Berwick, where the main English army was gathering. As they went, a moderate snowfall stuck to their uniforms in some places. The horses already had to sink their hooves somewhat into the snow.

From a nearby building, John Burgyone watched them pass. He turned back to a map spread on a nearby table. After glancing at it once, he looked up at his servant standing at the other side, back at the map again, then took his fist and slammed it at Edinburgh.

"There! The Scots nearly have the city under siege. Burness has taken Dunbar, Campbell moves through Falkirk as we speak, and MacGill's cavalry has swept through the south. And to think we could have defeated the rebellion already! If only those damned militia hadn't broken at Hamilton..."

"...you could have caught MacGill off guard, and been able to make another English victory at Falkirk once the re-enforcements arrived."

"Exactly!"

As he spoke that, the door was thrown open, allowing a large amount of cold air in the room--so much that the fireplace which had been keeping Burgyone and his servant warm was nearly blown out.

Through the door came Henry Clinton, with a few aides. The group dusted as much snow as they could off, then warmed themselves by the fire.

Finally, Clinton spoke. "There's talk of having you sent to America, John."

"I might consider that an improvement over this horrible weather. Do you know how many men I've lost to frostbite?"

"They weren't frostbitten at Hamilton. Yet they were defeated by the Scots, inferior in number, inferior in training..." He turned. "John, I didn't come all they way across the ocean to let someone get his soldiers slaughtered in what should have been an easy victory."

"They were militia! They probably didn't even want to fight!"

"Why did you send in militia?"

"I was saving the best men for the big fight, which I expected to come against John Campbell at Falkirk."

Clinton stood for a second, then nodded. "I can understand. You have one more chance, John, but I'm making sure to keep a very tight rein. We will move the army to Glasgow on the second, to collect before we make a large attack in Edinburgh. With God's help, this rebellion will be over before February."

Well, we're to the start of the actual scenario. I can give you all the information now:

The Starting Situation

Rules:
1. Any peace with England means that I've survived. However, I will not ask for or accept peace unless I have a positive war score.

2. If, at any time, I have no army, or the city of Aberdeen (The Grampians) is captured, then the game is over and the rebellion lost.

Considering the number of soldiers the English can raise, I'm going to find this one rather difficult.

Map of the Edinburgh area in 1773.

This should give you an idea of the direct envrions of Edinburgh. (You might want to refer to this often. I know I will.)

On 1 January 1773:

William Burness' 5000 men are currently stationed at Dudingston, near the large hill (Arthur's Seat) southeast of Edinburgh. MacGill's cavalry is stretched from Prestonfield to N. Braid. John Campbell with the main army holds a line from Belmont to Broompark.

Now you know where everybody is, I have to figure out a few more things about the defences of this city in 1773. Once that is done, I'll figure out how the Scots are supposed to take the city.

“Inspiring bold John Barleycorn!
What dangers thou canst make us scorn!
Wi’ tippenny, we fear nae evil;
Wi’ usquabae, we’ll face the devil!”
--“Tam o’ Shanter”

FOUR

1 JANUARY 1773--NEAR EDINBURGH, SCOTLAND

THE leaders of the revolt stood in a field near Gray's Mill on the Leith Water near Edinburgh. In the center, standing over a map of the Edinburgh area, was John Campbell. Rather short and round, he seemed more English than Scottish to those who didn't know him very well.

Beside him was William Burness, with his sons. Edward MacGill, a tall, brash, and quite stereotypical Highlander--right down to the large claymore he leaned on--stood on the other side of the table.

Campbell was the first to speak. "The plan is rather simple. William, your force will hit Salisbury Craigh--here--(he pointed to a spot just south-west of Edinburgh), then move into the city. MacGill, you will attack the southern part, while some of my force keeps the English busy in the north. Most of my part will, however, first attack the port of Leith. Once the port is gone, the city will surrender quickly. If they don't, however, we will be able to bring our entire force to bear at Edinburgh. Any questions?"

MacGill merely left. William and his sons remained to hammer out the finer points of the plan.

After a few minutes, Robert noticed snow falling out of the sky. The recent snowfall was still mostly on the ground, and this new addition would make things only worse.

William and John seemed unconcerned. Scotsmen could fight in snow. Soon, the group broke up. William and his sons rode back to their army in silence. As they came back, however, the snowfall became heavier. When they got back to Dudingston, they could barely see anything in front of them.

"No attack, it seems. We'd best get inside."