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charles' corronation

well it's quite hard to find a coronation picture of Charles VII without Jeanne d'Arc, and there are still some years till she makes her glorious appearance:p

http://dijoon.free.fr/philippelebon.htm

Laur
 
MrT, you've just made me very happy :) Charles VII asserting his authority, disrespecting the author: that's great, just wonderful :) Got to keep the story fresh, you know, if you're going to write 400 posts :D

Speaking of which, I was definitely NOT suggesting you speed up. I like it just as slow as you write it :D
 
I have to agree. If it doesn't bother you, I would definitely like this story to go on like this.
 
Laur: Thanks. I hadn't found that one. One of the nice parts about playing France now instead of Siebenburgen is that if I find a site with information in French, I can actually read it and understand it. It's a nice change. I can hardly wait until Jean d'Arc comes along. As you say, nice body of images to chose from there.

Sharur/Sorcerer: Thanks. I adgree that it will take everything I've got to keep all 400 posts fresh and interesting. :eek: If you're willing to read it, I'm willing to write it.:)

****

1423 - April 1st

I spent an engrossing hour watching Charles VII clipping his toe nails. I never knew that you could do that when I was still alive. I used to just pick them off. Which brings up an interesting topic...I don't seem to age or change as time passes, now that I'm a ghost. My hair doesn't grow, my toenails and fingernails don't grow...He started with his left foot, big toe. It was a nice toe, unaccustomed to the rigours of army boots or....:D
 
1423 - 1424

The Quill and the Sword

I did not know it at the time, of course, but the twenty-one months from April 1423 to December 1424 would be the only lasting period of peace in the 1420’s as far as France was concerned. I remember the period particularly well as I recall feeling a terrible sense of urgency, of danger, but also of excitement and barely contained aggression.

I don’t recall if I mentioned to you, when we talked before, that Charles was nineteen when he took the crown at his coronation in Reims. By your standards this would be a very young age to find oneself in control of a wealthy and populated realm. By his, however, this was by no means uncommon. He was well-educated, intelligent, and in full command of his powers even then.

In the early spring of 1423, Charles VII was just settling into his reign and found that his recent exploits had not particularly endeared him to the rest of Europe. He was, perhaps, a bit impatient in those early years, and it was all I could do to persuade him to remain idle for even such a brief period of time.

180213714.jpg


I think the pivotal moment in our early “relationship”, if you could call it that, was a conversation that we had that lasted deep into the night on March 21st of that year. I had appeared in his chambers at a little after sunset that evening to find them empty. I cast about with my senses for a little and felt his presence a little way off, in the general vicinity of the young Marie d’Anjou’s bedroom. I sighed and began looking at map he had pinned to his antechamber wall. It was a map of his holdings, and of the political situation in general in western Europe.

A while later he returned, dishevelled and smelling of sex from he most recent “conquest” and found me still deep in contemplation.

“Ahh. You come to me at a bad time, ghost. I am in no mood for idle banter tonight.”

“I had surmised as much, your highness, however there are important matters of state that should not wait the nine or more months that it may take for your current endeavours to bear fruit.” I should mention that the young king was a passionate man and that on occasions such as this I had already learned that I could get away with a bit of rudeness and sarcasm.

“And what is so important that it cannot wait a day?”

“There are several things, highness. I have noticed reports recently from your Scottish allies that England is still at war. I decided to investigate these and found that this is indeed the case.”

“Still at war? That’s preposterous! They surrendered their lands and we left their remaining territories in good faith. Why, I haven’t heard a single scouting report of armies moving anywhere near our borders.”

“They are at war, my liege, but not with France. I have it on the best authority that they are at war with Eire, and have been since before our own conflict was brought to such a glorious conclusion.”

“Eire, you say.”

“Aye. And there’s more. Burgundy and Aragon are with them.”

“The devil! That will go hard on the Irish.”

“Indeed, my lord, but it might provide an interesting opportunity.”

“Ah. I see what you’re driving at. You’re thinking that this might be a good time to draw Eire into our alliance.”

“Exactly, lord. Though I am told that his is unlikely with our current diplomatic relations.”

“Not so great, are they. Very well, perhaps I can talk my sister into marrying into their household – they’re good Catholics after all – to cement our bonds. I shall to speak to Catherine on the matter in the morrow. Now, if that was all you may go.”

“There were actually a few other things. Your majesty.”

“Have at it then, ghost. I’m overdue for my privy.”

“There is the question of England.”

“We’ve just been over that! Weren’t you listening? I said that I’d talk to her in the morning.”

“No your majesty. I was referring to somewhat longer-range strategies concerning the nation. They still hold land in the south that is rightfully ours. Their alliance is strong when they can call upon their friends who border us on practically every side, and their assaults can be launched on so many fronts at once. It is certain that they will return, for they strongly desire control of the Channel. I also believe that Burgundy itself would lay claim to some of our lands.”

“Ah, which leads you to thoughts of further marriages, does it not? I only have two sisters, and both my brothers died more than ten years ago.”

“Yes, my liege, but I believe that Burgundy would be well-suited to a blood tie with Princess Isabelle.”

“You do? Oh. I see. Yes, perhaps you are indeed correct. With such a close tie, they would never dare declare war on us directly, and they might well feel the same of ourselves. We establish a “détente royale” to our mutual protection. Very good. There are only two problems: Isabelle is too young to be wed - she is only twelve after all - though I suppose it could all be arranged now and then the marriage could be planned for the day of her fourteenth birthday…”

“June 27th, your majesty.”

“Ah, yes. June 27th. So they could become betrothed right away, and then marry in June of next year. But the other problem, quite simply, is that I do indeed intend to annex every single square mile of their lands and claim them for France. It would be rather disastrous to do that if my own sister’s life will be forfeit on the day I make the declaration of war.”

“True.”

“You say that as though it isn’t true. Oh. Of course. It isn’t. Ah. That is indeed a devious idea. Of course it all hinges on them remaining allied to England. But since, as you said, they remain embroiled even now on England’s behalf, it is most likely that they will do so for many years to come. How long, do you think?”

“I would be impossible for me to say, your majesty. But then it doesn’t really matter does it? What matters is not when they are ready, but rather when you are ready.”

“Ah. And I will be ready when…ah. Now I see what you’re driving at. I will be ready when I have removed the one thorn that they might stick in my side.”

“That is so. It is also true that they are presently outside of the alliance.”

“Really! Now that is interesting. So there are two routes to take, then. We could invite them into our own alliance and seek to gain their lands eventually by diplomatic means; or we could declare war and conquer them.”

“Your majesty has, indeed, been well-schooled in the arts of war and politics, both.”

“As, so I see, were you. Very well, then. So we arrange marriages for my sisters; one with Eire as soon as may be, and the other for the summer of next year. And we consider how best to deal with Brittany. The quill or the sword, eh?”

“The quill or the sword.”

We talked for some time longer, gradually fleshing out the plans for the next few years. It was, though, a momentous evening for we ceased to bicker very much after that. I had a new-found respect for this King – and he would be a king in every sense of the word – and he had developed respect and perhaps even trust in me. It would be a partnership. A partnership to see to it that Charles VII sat on the throne of the largest kingdom in Europe, or even the world, before he died. And Burgundy, Eire, Brittany and England were far from the limit of all we considered.

As we had discussed, Catherine was duly wed to Domhnall XI of Eire in a very small ceremony on April 1st, 1423. It was a trying time as the English and Aragonese forces were already besieging the king’s fortress in Ulster, and controlled much of his lands. Though he still held out hope of a miracle, he declined Charles’ offer to join the French alliance in June of that year. Later, perhaps, he would change his tune.

Isabelle, a dear little beauty who took remarkably after her mother, was forthwith betrothed to a prince of Burgundy and on a warm summer’s day in 1424 they were wed. I hoped that the subsequent years would treat her kindly, as I had a terrible feeling that her new husband would not. I tried not to dwell on this and satisfied myself with the knowledge that she was a true child of her country. Her letters to her brother were frequent, and contained much useful information of the size and disposition of Burgundy’s troops.

There was one other tidbit of information that seemed so tiny and insignificant at the time, but later turned out not to be: rebellions had begun to spring up frequently in Artois, Flandern, and other northern Burgundian provinces. Presumably these revolts had much to do with the protracted war with Eire that still seemed to be without resolution, though to us it mattered not. What did matter is that an army had to be stationed to deal with any of their forces that spilled across our borders – though none actually did – and scouts from the army dutifully reported that Artois had fallen into rebel hands in January of 1424 and were already besieging Flandern. Though eventually this menace was put down by the elements (the winter of 1424 was also a very harsh one), Artois remained undecided. Very slowly, the King began to drop subtle hints in his speeches about how nice it might be to have the peace-loving people of Artois join his realm.

As 1424 drew to a close, Charles sent a diplomat to meet with the Prince of Brittany. His message was, perhaps, not the best of the many he would write in his reign. He offered alliance, a chance to stand together against the English, a promise to protect the sovereign lands of Brittany against all invaders. The Prince, unaccustomed to intricate statecraft, bluntly refused to consider such a proposal, and the diplomat returned to give Charles the bad news on the 1st of December. The king took it in stride and brought out his quill once more. This note was very short and definitely to the point. The point of a sword, to be precise.

It would be delivered on January 2nd, 1425.
 
January 1st, 1425

Now I must tell you that I was particularly happy on January 1st, 1425. This had nothing to do with Charles VII’s impending declaration of war on Brittany, due to be delivered the following morning; or rather it did, but not quite directly.

I neglected to mention, when we were talking about the twenty-one months of peace, that Charles had seen fit to commission the Academie des Arts et Sciences de la Guerre in Paris. This was something that he did, quite surprisingly, out of his own pocket rather than involve the state treasury, and it would remain the “king’s personal project” for a multitude of years to come – and it would remain a secret one.

Loosely speaking, this was the progenitor of a “West Point” military college who’s function it was to train the future generals and admirals of the French military in the art of combat. Not the “how-too hands-on” sort of stuff like how to swing a sword, poke a pike, or (in later years) manhandle a musket; but rather in how to best allocate and employ available resources in a given theatre and how to inspire the common soldier or tar into great feats of victory on a battlefield or in a naval engagement. It also employed some of the best minds of the day to develop – through state funding – new tactics, new weaponry, new field procedures, and so on. Think of it also, therefore, as a sort of military R&D facility.

As a side note, the King also established the Université des Pratiques Pour Règler les Actions Domestique which was the non-military “research centre” devoted to analysing domestic policies and religious tolerances, to developing improvements in the nation’s infrastructure, and to ascertain what (if any) improvements might be possible in the way France conducted international trade. Together, these two colleges would become the backbone of the French efforts to achieve supremacy in combat and in social-economic might.

I would like to be able to say that this was all my idea and that I had “suggested” it in some way to the young king. Though no records survive that would dispute such a claim, this was not the case. This was one of the first true signs of foresight and greatness that Charles would display, and in the years to come – both during his lifetime and in the reigns that followed – I would have cause to think back to these years with a mixture of sorrow, relief, and outright admiration. But I digress...

My joy, on January 1st, was that the military academy “mustered out” its first graduate on that day. Now here I can take some credit, for the man had been one that I had specifically pointed out as having impressed me in the field during the reign of Charles VI; none other than our brave Richemont.

You will recall that Richemont had showed great promise in his actions at the time. He had been placed in charge of ever-larger armies and sent against ever-more-deadly opponents. It was he who led the Armée du Roi against Henry V and defeated him in the rout of Poitou. It was Richemont who led three successive frontal assaults on Bedford’s army, eventually killing him on the blood-soaked fields of Vendée. It was Richemont who had overseen several sieges and generally been one of the primary reasons that we had won the war in the first place. And thus it was Richemont whom I recommended most highly as one of the first commanders to be schooled at the Academie and Charles had acceded to my request.

The day itself was a miserable one – deeply overcast with the temperature well below freezing and the snow still lingering on the fields and in the mud-choked streets from two days of heavy snow – but as far as Charles or I were concerned, it was a glorious morning and the sun was shining. Richemont marched smartly at the head of a column of veterans of the Armée du Roi past a small reviewing stand that had been set up in the Academie’s vast estates and brought them to a smooth and precise halt that would send shivers up the spine of any man. They executed an about-face in perfect unison, marched back towards the stand, halted once more, and turned to face the stand’s sole occupant: none other than Charles VII, their king.

They stood there for several minutes, unmoving, unwavering. The brisk cold wind chose that moment to start up again and the regimental and royal colours on the standards snapped and crackled in response.

“Commander Richemont.”

Richemont took three steps towards the stand and then returned to attention, waiting for his monarch’s next words.

“It gives me great pleasure to confer upon you the title of ‘General’ of my armies, and all the privileges and rights that go with it. You have pleased me greatly, and have done France and the crown a great service. It will, dare I say, be far from the last that you will perform.”

The king descended the few steps to the field and advanced towards the still-rigidly-attentive soldier. He opened his hand, and there was a glint of gold. Reaching Richemont, he pinned the newly minted insignia to the now-general’s uniform.

“Walk with me.”

As Richemont followed a half-step behind Charles, the monarch continued. “Tomorrow will see us once again at war. Brittany refused our generous offer to join our alliance and I cannot have their armies pose a threat to our nation so I must act now, while the time is ripe. You will take the Armée du Roi, currently stationed in Maine, and move immediately on Mobihan. You will also instruct the Armée Royale to move on Armor from their position in Normandie. You must defeat any army you encounter, and support Armor if their commander – de Valois is his name - gets in any trouble. From there, you will need to secure Britagne and then oversee the sieges of all three capitals. Is that clear?”

“Yes, your highness.”

“No matter what the cost, you must succeed in these endeavours by no later than the autumn of ’27 and bring them to their knees.”

“Yes, your highness.”

“Very good. I believe that you will. You may return and dismiss your cadre; and then you’d better get on the fastest horse you can find and get to the front as soon as possible. I believe that you will find that Windfoal will fit the bill. He is currently in my private stables, and I have instructed my grooms to have him ready for you within the hour. He is yours to keep, sir. And may you use him well.”

“Thank you, your highness. I will not fail you.”

“Off with you then.”

Richemont strode rapidly back to his men, allowing a hint of a smile of joy to flicker across his face for the first time since the parade had started.

General, he thought. War!

Okay, I know there’s no way you can ride from Paris to Maine in a single day, but I hope you’re willing to cut me some slack for the sake of “artistic” licence...

If I can find an appropriate image or two, I'll add them anon. Also if anyone notices an error in my French names above, I'd be happy to hear your suggestions. The two "institutes" are merely being established to rationalise future tech advances and the sudden appearance of leaders - not to reflect an advance in any tech levels right now or to represent a manufactory or anything.
 
Very good! But what about the right foot? It's unfair to keep us hanging in the air like that... :D
 
Brittany 1425-1427

True to his word, Richemont marched on Morbihan with almost fourteen thousand infantry and over five thousand cavalry on January 2nd, 1425. At the same time, deValois moved towards Armor with only slightly few numbers.

Initial scouting reports suggested that the defensive forces laid out by Brittany were a pitiful seventy-five hundred in Morbihan and a little under four thousand in Armor, which led Richemont to correctly worry about possible reinforcements to one of the two impending battles with what he could only assume was a hidden main force in Bretagne. Tension mounted as the armies drew closer and closer to their assigned targets.

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Finally battle was joined with both enemy forces on the same day - January 17th - preventing effective communications from running between them. As yet no reinforcing force had arrived and both Richemont and deValois found themselves in close combat with corps made up entirely of cavalry – an expensive mistake for Brittany to make as they could surely have escaped as soon as word came of the French advance.

Whatever mystery remained – and there wasn’t much of it – was revealed on January 20th as Richemont had already inflicted more than fifty percent casualties on his opponent. All of a sudden, while chasing the overwhelmed enemy cavalry, he found himself facing rank upon rank of hurriedly assembled infantry that had obviously just endured a long march to reach the battlefield from Bretagne.

With his newfound skills, Richemont quickly assessed their numbers – perhaps some eight thousand foot in all – and immediately redeployed his men to send a dense thicket of pike against the centre while committing all of his cavalry to the flanks. He held back a small reserve who were instructed to ignore any possible developing gaps in their own line but rather to fan out immediately once the centre had been breached.

By noon, the enemy line began to crumble and Richemont’s knights continued to press hard at the flanks. As the unfortunate Brittany soldiers folded outwards, away from certain death in the centre, the French knights rallied for a second charge on the wings, which retreated back in on themselves since they didn’t realise that there was no protection for them in the centre. Upon turning, instead of seeing their own reserve they found themselves facing the eager and determined French reserve. Confusion reigned in the enemy ranks, and by dusk it was a bloodbath.

A few stragglers attempted to flee but were tracked down and put to the sword. By January 23rd, all remnants of the Brittany army had been destroyed, the city had been invested, and Richemont’s army was already on the march towards Armor as I had come to him to warn him the previous evening that deValois was facing stiff opposition in the north. The same night, I appeared to deValois and advised him to retire from the field for now and return to Normandie. Richemont would take care of the stubborn enemy cavalry.

Mind you de Valois’ men had killed perhaps a third of the enemy force while sustaining few casualties themselves; but their morale was poor and I feared that if they broke they might lose more men than absolutely necessary. I had conferred briefly with Charles who had authorized the change in plan, and who shared my faith in Richemont’s training at the Academie. Our faith was rewarded when Richemont clashed with the enemy’s knights near the Armor-Morbihan border on February 7th. It took Richemont only two days to destroy the last flower of Brittany’s chivalric youth and lay siege to the city. He reported losses in the first battle in Morbihan of fifteen hundred, and only eight of his men were slain in Armor.

Richemont and de Valois now coordinated their efforts to ensure that all three provinces were placed under full siege, with Richemont detaching a force to march on Bretagne and de Valois sending a portion of his army to reinforce the Armée du Roi. With reports of Brittany already engaged in recruiting in Armor, Richemont elected to remain there to ensure that there were no surprises – a decision that bore fruit on April 20th as six thousand raw recruits managed to form up into a corps to challenge his stranglehold on the province. These men were summarily dispatched in only two days, and Richemont again adjusted his forces to maximize the efficiency of each siege. Again, the French losses were negligible – some fifty foot and ten knights.

In Paris, meanwhile, Charles received a Portuguese ambassador on April 3rd. Though their discussion covered a series of wide-ranging topics, their only basis for agreement was upon Portugal’s request for a trade pact whereby neither country would interfere with the other’s merchants in any centre of trade. Further concessions or ties would have to wait for another time.

On July 23rd, Charles also took advantage of the “war” – which by this time was merely a series of sieges – to introduce a new tax whereby all monthly provincial revenues were to be doubled for the following six months and the limitations on provincial recruitment were relaxed, enlarging each region’s pool of available soldiers by perhaps a half. It was unsurprising, however, that Charles merely sent the additional income to his treasury and did not avail himself of the increased manpower reserve capacity.

The first city to fall was Morbihan, in late June, followed by Armor in mid October. By year’s end, only Bretagne remained to be conquered and Charles was busily ignoring the various ambassadors from Brittany and availing himself of the breathing space to write a few well-worded letters to Provence and Bourbonnais to offer them assurances of his best intentions. Both vassals responded very favourably to his thoughtfulness and relations remained strong.

Support for the war against Brittany was far from universal, however. A number of nobles with close blood ties to families in that nation elected to align themselves on the beleaguered country’s behalf, causing a noticeable effect in public unrest, while adding fuel to the political fire. Charles was not amused.

Talk about pissed off! I already had a permanent CB vs Brittany, I was at war with Brittany, and I get “Nobles Ally with Foreign Power” giving me stab –2 and a 24 month CB versus…you guessed it…Brittany! Arrrrrrrgh!!!

Also of note from 1425, Eire was – remarkably - still holding out against England. Somehow they had managed to capture Meath from their oppressors but had been forced to withdraw westwards under stiff English pressure. By late December, England had committed more than 33,000 men to the effort to return Meath to their control and attrition was taking its toll on their number. England was still at war.

Estimating that the siege of Bretagne could last a little while longer but having no direct need to hasten the siege, Richemont and much of the occupation army was recalled to Ile de France in March where they were to be enhanced by a batch of new soldiers that Charles decided to recruit in the capital in June. Some ten thousand infantry and four thousand cavalry were commissioned, which made a dent in the royal treasury but still left Charles with a healthy stash – in excess of 300 francs.

Charles’ Université announced its first major achievement on September 1st, 1426. After some discussion and preliminary testing, it was felt that it might be possible to send a limited number of rugged and hardy individuals to an otherwise unpopulated territory in order to establish trading posts. This would allow the exploitation of the area’s resources without necessitating the establishment of a full-blown colony – something that might stand a better initial chance of succeeding and would be considerably less expensive to promote.

As Bretagne proved its resilience by withstanding the army’s siege efforts into October, Charles once again issued an ordinance for increase “war” taxes. Rather than sending Richemont to finish them off, however, he signed an order directing him to take the Armée du Roi to Champagne. There were many who were confused by this apparent misdirection, but I already knew what Charles intended and merely smiled when I heard the rumours starting to surface about the “son taking after the father”. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

Finally, on December 11th, de Valois sent word to Paris that Bretagne had finally succumbed to starvation and had surrendered the city to him without incident. Having witnessed this myself, I resolved to discuss the situation with the monarch that evening.

Charles looked up as I appeared – he had an uncanny sense of when I was “there” as opposed to merely “around”.

“I know,” he said. “You wonder why I have as yet to dispatch a messenger with our terms.”

“Your highness, I do not question your decision, though I am curious as to the reason.”

“I expect that a delegation will be making its way to us in the very near future. In the interim, they should receive at least some income from their census taxes – such as they are able to collect them – and I am curious as to what they will offer. The good people of France seem to be adequately contented with the situation, so I see no need to hurry the affair. On the other hand, I feel a certain unrest lingering from the traitorous actions of some of the nobility with regards to our enemy, so we must wait for these effects to be neutralized in any case.”

“But this will take at least a year!”

“I am aware of that, though I doubt that Brittany will wait so long before tendering their surrender. I have it in mind to enter into frequent correspondence with my vassal states as well, as I wish to induce in them a near-euphoric love of me. Surely this will hold France in good stead in the future.”

There was no denying this, both because it made a great deal of sense and because Charles was not one to change his mind once he had decided on a course of action. I watched the developments of the next months with interest to see how accurate his predictions might be.

The Academie’s second candidate to achieve a rank in the French army was promoted on January 1st, 1427. I didn’t know the man particularly well, but Charles obviously did as he assigned the war-veteran Dunois the rank of Lt. General – a rather high honour in my opinion. He was highly capable - from my initial observations - and had undertaken additional studies in siegecraft to bring him up to the level of competence of the much-admired Richemont. He was not, however, cut from the same cloth as the Armée du Roi’s revered commander.

I forgot to indicate, earlier, that Richemont is a 5/5/5/1. Dunois is a 4/4/4/1.

Charles had great faith in the man’s abilities, however, and ordered him to meet de Valois in Nivernais to assume command of the Armée Royale. Richemont was also ordered to detach a compliment to increase the size of the new Lt. General’s force.

True to form, an ambassador arrived in Paris on January 23rd, 1427, claiming to speak on behalf of the oppressed people of Brittany. Considering the tone of his approach, I did not give the man much chance of survival. Charles surprised me, however, and treated him with reasonable civility while listening to his offer. Brittany would cede Bretagne and Armor, and pay a small sum of 28 francs for his majesty’s consideration. Charles countered that he was aware that the state of the Brittany’s finances were considerably better than the diplomat was letting on, and that he could not possibly accept such a trivial sum of money. The territorial concessions were acceptable, but Brittany must pay reparations in the amount of 225 francs if they wished to see the French occupying force withdraw from Morbihan.

Having no other recourse, the ambassador of Brittany acceded to the French king’s harsh demands.

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July 29, 1427

On the heel of Charles VII ramming a peace down Brittany’s throat, we had another one of those late-night strategy sessions. When I wanted to have one, I merely appeared in his chambers and he either told me to go away to asked me what was on my mind. When he wanted to have one, though, he would send out messages to virtually anyone of significance telling them that he wished to see “l’éminence grise” if they saw me. It was just such a message that caused me to appear in late July of 1427.

I had been here and there since the peace, evaluating possible international reactions to France’s aggression and looking at the civilian population’s general happiness and such. I’d also been spending a lot of time with the various merchants in helping them to establish profitable businesses and maintain them in foreign trade centres. I was aware that Charles had been doing his bit from a diplomatic end – reassuring Scotland and his vassals that they had nothing to fear, an so on – but in the few months since Brittany’s surrender, I had assumed he would be interested in lying low for a while.

I was wrong.

“I intend to declare war,” he said.

I think I blurted out “What!” or something equally disrespectful since I could tell by his expression that he was on the verge of telling me to get out.

“I intend to declare war,” he repeated.

Now that I was over my surprise, I began to think about the possibilities. It came as only a mild shock when he went on to tell me the intended “victim” as it was a strategically necessary move, but was frought with danger.

“Ah, I see you are reading my mind now. What do you think?”

“What do I think? I think it’s very risky; particularly since you won’t be able to rely on our Scottish friends for this one.”

“I hadn’t intended to ask them.”

“Oh. But won’t their allies come rushing to their aid?”

“I certainly hope so, since that’s at least half of the reason for doing it in the first place.”

I digested that for a moment. “They’ll be hard to stop, and even harder to beat. Territory?”

“Only a sliver. I’m more interested in locking them out of any future actions and the easiest way to do that is to make them my vassals.”

“Oh. I see. Well, since you’ve already made your mind up, why did you want to see me?”

“When?”

“Ah. When will the people accept it? When can we afford it? When can the troops be ready? That sort of stuff?”

“Yes.”

“If I start now, perhaps by Christmas. I will need you to authorize the commanders to obey my orders, in that case, or we’ll be wasting time with messages going to and fro. I’ll also need to draw rather heavily on your treasury and divert funds from other areas of the budget.”

“Agreed.”

“Are you certain you want to pursue this war right now?”

“Positive. And it must be over no later than 1430. 1429 would be better. I will be busy with some affairs of state so I leave this in your hands.”

“Affairs of state?”

“You’ll see. Christmas, then?”

I nodded, bleakly.

“I’ll have the declaration delivered on Christmas Day, then. My little present to them.”

One thing you had to say for him, he certainly had a sick sense of humour and a penchant for irony.
 
Originally posted by MrT

One thing you had to say for him, he certainly had a sick sense of humour and a penchant for irony.
Talking about our Prime Minister again, eh? :)

Very enjoyable MrT! Casper will lead France to eternal glory! ;)
 
OOC: too late Sharur. :) (and thanks...it seems many are reading but few commenting...:rolleyes: ) Thanks too, LD...nice to know you're following along as well. I was beginning to feel vaguely like a MacBeth soliloquy...;)

1428

The messenger dutifully delivered the king’s message on December 25th, 1427:

To: His Grace Charles II, Duke of Lorraine

Our dear friend,

As you will know through our past dealings we hold you in the greatest of respect, and it has only been through your continued refusal to set aside your independence and swear fealty to our crown that we have come to this impasse. Lorraine lays claim to lands that are rightfully our property; lands which your grace has refused to surrender through diplomatic means.

Therefore, be it known that on this day, the twenty fifth of December, 1427, we do formally declare war upon your duchy and all the lands within it. We will send our armies to effect the rapid and humane consolidation of your lands with ours. Should you choose to refuse their demands for your peaceful surrender, they have been fully authorized to prosecute this war in whatever means are necessary to bring it to its necessary conclusion.

Yours truly,

Charles VII
Roi de France


On the same day, I instructed the bailiffs that taxes would necessarily be doubled for the next six months and that every man must be prepared to join the army, if necessary and if called to duty. I also spent a rather large sum from the treasury to recruit 24,000 foot and 8,000 horse in Champagne, and I instructed both Dunois and Richemont – who had quietly moved their respective armies into position in the preceding months – to converge rapidly on Lorraine with the combined might of their forces.

As expected, the Duke of Lorraine immediately called to his allies for their assistance. Over the course of the next day or two, messengers streamed through the gates of Paris to discharge their duties:

...this most foul and heinous act of aggression...King of Hessen

...treasonous attack...Regent of Cologne

...despicable...Mainz

...barbarism...The Palatinat


On January 13th, Richemont and Dunois slammed simultaneously into the ill-prepared Lorraine army. While the enemy had a standing army of only some 9,000 infantry and 1,000 cavalry, the combined French armies fielded more than 11,000 knights at the head of slightly more than 25,000 foot. More than half of the Lorraine army was wiped out in the first two days of fighting, saved only – temporarily mind you - by the timely arrival of the Palatinat’s entire military might of another 6,000 infantry and 4,000 knights. By this point, however, nothing could prevent the bloodbath. Within a week most were all put to the sword, while each of my (I thought of them as mine in this war) commanders reported that their forces had sustained only light casualties.

While Dunois was left in charge of the siege of Lorraine, Richemont pressed onward with his half of the forces to attack Pfalz and engage the few survivors of the battle. Upon arriving on the 10th of February, he faced a combined army that numbered fewer than 5,000 and was sadly demoralized. Within three days he had dispatched them and invested the city. Spies reported that a large infantry recruitment project was underway in the province and Richemont advised his scouts to be on their guard.

Perhaps it was by virtue of such a decisive early victory, a fear of experiencing the glorious French army first-hand, or maybe it had been the gentle communications that Charles had been sending their way for months; but whatever the reason, the rebellious factions who held control of Artois decided that declaring allegiance to the French Crown would be in their best interests. Charles welcomed them into the fold on February 1st, even as Richemont was still marching on the Palatinat. There was a modest risk of further rebellion, but I resolved to ensure that they neither would – or could – come to regret their decision.

The rumours of the recruitment project in Pfalz turned out to be well-founded and Richemont was forced to combat their half-hearted attempt to break his siege on the 26th of February. While the new enemy corps was large – numbering some 10,000 foot – their training was incomplete and their morale was low. Richemont reported losing fewer than 500 men while destroying half the enemy in only two days of fighting.

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On March 29th, Dunois had to fend off enemy recruits in Lorraine as well, as some 5,000 ill-prepared cavalry attacked his outriders and were expertly drawn into his trap. Within two days he had soundly defeated them and sent them into full flight. I ordered him immediately to leave only the barest of covering forces in Lorraine as I had spotted a very large army of forces from both Mainz and Cologne bearing down on Richemont – at first guess, something in the order of 25,000 men. My own recruits, however, seemed ready for action and were sent from Champagne to resume the siege.

I opened up the king’s coffers again in mid April to enlist yet another 10,000 foot in Champagne, just as the first batch of recruits arrived in Lorraine and set about their business. I instructed them to leave only the minimum possible numbers to effect the siege and to march with all haste in support of Richemont in Pfalz.

Aware that the enemy was fast approaching, Richemont and Dunois assembled their armies in the forests of the near bank of the Rhine and awaited the onslaught. They were not to be disappointed as on April 28th the first attempts to dislodge them were begun. While by this point the combined Armée du Roi and Armée Royale numbered some 17,845 pikemen and 9479 horse, the enemy had committed a nearly equivalent army of men to the assault, being perhaps inferior to ours by only some 2,800 foot while fielding a handful more knights than we had.

During the first few days of battle Richemont’s line held and inflicted terrible casualties on the enemy footmen trying to cross the river at one of only two bridges that were suitable for passage. Reinforcements were on their way on both sides of the river, though, and by May 4th the conflict had escalated to involve nearly 70,000 men all told. The weight of the enemy soldiers was great, but Richemont had both a field advantage and a tactical advantage over the combined enemy commanders. I don’t recall even once instance where he felt that his army was in danger of being overpowered.

By May 8th, the enemy had had enough and withdrew back into Hessen. Richemont, sensing that their morale was shattered by the bloodshed of the past few days, left Dunois in charge of a minimal siege force in Pfalz and quickly marched the army after the retreating backs of the enemy army. Less than a month later he was to engage them once again as they turned to face him in Hessen. Because of the siege force left behind, Richemont was at rough parity with his foes, but the spirit and drive of the Armée du Roi could not be equalled – particularly by the recently defeated Mainz and Cologne soldiers.

By June 5th the enemy was in full retreat once again, their numbers now having diminished to a mere 8,000 from the more than 18,000 that had taken the field against him – not to mention that the entire force had consisted of some 35,000 men only 45 days earlier. Richemont, by way of comparison, held his force nearly intact with more than 8,000 infantry and 8,500 knights and light cavalry.

On June 11, a messenger arrived in Paris claiming to be a representative of the Prince of Mantua. Rather curious, Charles admitted him to the throne room.

“My dread lord,” began the diplomat. “This current state of war between our two great countries can do nothing to further either of our two int...”

“War?” interrupted the King. “I was not aware that we were at war.”

“Ah. Well. You see we were unwittingly invited into the Lorraine alliance, and not realizing th...”

“Oh. I see. They tried to sucker you, did they? Well it worked.”

“My Prince was wondering if perhaps you might be able to see your way clear to forgetting about this most unfortunate accident and would agree to return to a “status quo,” so to speak.

“A white peace, you say. Very well. Tell him that the ‘sins of the father will not be visited upon son’...this time. Something he would do well to remember.”

“Thank you, your majesty. Tha...”

“You are dismissed.”

And so ended the part of the war that none of us ever even knew existed.

By June 15th the 10,000 new recruits were organized and ready to march from Champagne. I ordered them to join Dunois in Pfatz where they would receive further orders. Though it might have been stretching the population’s limits, I ordered another 3,000 pike to be raised in that province.

Meanwhile, desperation was setting in amongst our enemies. Several small detachments engaged Richemont’s forces beginning in July. He successfully repelled them all, in most cases annihilating the aggressors. On July 2nd it was 521 Hessen infantry and 1705 cavalry; on July 14th, a band of some 2275 knights – also from Hessen; August 1st saw another 660 foolhardy infantry from the Palatinat…

Mid-August, though, revealed a rather large contingent of forces marching from both Köln and Mainz on Dunois’ position. By this time, though, he had received the 10,000 infantry reinforcements and I had no fears that he could handle them so I ordered Richemont to leave only a small siege force in Hessen and march into the enemy rear and attack Mainz.

Battle was first joined on August 27th, with Dunois taking to the field with about 16,500 men – though only 2,200 of these were knights – against a Mainz contingent of about 8,200, split roughly evenly between foot and horse. Only three or four days later, the Cologne forces arrived to support the failing Mainz soldiers, increasing their numbers significantly to more than 8,000 infantry and almost 11,500 cavalry. True to his training, though, Dunois remained unconcerned as he knew that help of his own was on its way.

September 5th dawned dark and overcast, with a heavy fog rolling across the field. Dunois had compressed his lines and held back a rather larger-than-normal reserve in order to fool the enemy as to his remaining numbers. In a moment of inspiration, he sent the reserve in a very wide march around a small forest with the goal of attacking the enemy from behind when their forces were fully engaged. With luck, the enemy would seek to press their supposed advantage and would commit everything to an all-out assault. True to form, they did – committing their entire force to one last great push to roll over the French defence.

They were rather surprised, therefore, to find that the blue-coats were in high spirits and showed no sign of “give” in the morning’s first engagement. Just as the Cologne commander was preparing to blow the horn to sound a temporary halt to the action and a regrouping of their lines, the reserve crested the horizon directly behind the enemy lines. The battle quickly turned into a rout, as the fresh reserve drove into their rear. By day’s end the remains of the alliance’s armies were in full, desperate retreat. Upon conducting a roll-call that night, Dunois was shocked to discover that other than the initial, minor casualties suffered in first day of combat, he had not lost a single man since September 1st!

By September 13th, Richemont had entered Mainz and engaged a small force of only 220 infantry – likely the remnants of an earlier battle – and, leaving a small siege force, was moving on to Köln. While still on the march, he was greeted by the tattered remains of the army retreating from Dunois’ earlier battle – a mere 1,900 infantry and 4,000 cavalry. After a rapid victory, he elected to remain in Mainz as he lacked the necessary numbers to fully invest Köln.

I authorized another 4,000 infantry and 2,000 cavalry to be recruited in Champagne in late October and then settled in to watch the progress of the various and sundry sieges.

The first city to fall was Pfalz, on December 21st, 1428. Effectively this placed the Palatinat completely under French control and Charles immediately went to work in securing an agreement with their ruler. His terms were very straightforward: the Palatinat would become vassals of the Crown of France and would agree to allow military access to France’s forces. Seeing little by way of alternative, the Palatinat agreed to the king’s demands.

There are three things that remain to mention about this period of the history of France. The first is that the third graduate of the Academie received his laurels on January 1st, 1429. He was yet another of the veterans of the English war, Gilles de Rais by name, who was a highly rounded individual with excellent skills and a penchant for siegecraft as well (4/4/4/1). Gilles was immediately assigned to command the Armée de Canada (not that there was a Canada yet, but who knows where such names come from?) and would oversee the siege of Hessen.

The second will be the subject of our next conversation...

The third is that Charles, on my recommendation, further adjusted his overall governing policies to hold innovativeness over the rather narrow-minded preaching of the clergy. While this would result in some temporary disruption within the populous on the whole, the resulting benefits to both production and the various fields of research being undertaken by the Academie and the Université would more than offset these losses.

And meanwhile the sieges continued...
 
Originally posted by MrT
LD...nice to know you're following along as well. I was beginning to feel vaguely like a MacBeth soliloquy...;)
It wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that every second thread has your name attached to it, would it? :D

Maybe people are confused by all the choices. ;)

Or it goes toward proving my point that the really serious novel style narrative is a tough sell. :(
 
A tough sell though it may be,
it's the only kind you can sell to me!

Hey, look, a rhyme! :D

Whoever is or isn't reading, MrT, you're doing a superb job. Every time I get up the courage to start an aar, someone such as you or LD writes something like that and convinces me not to :(
 
You are very wrong MrT, your work has great interest, manifested by the many viewers so do not despair for I enjoy your French storytellying immensely and would ahte for it to end.
 
I always feel silly posting telling people I'm reading, but since you worried (or at least mentioned), be assured the first thing I do when I get home in the mornings is check in to see what you're doing with my favorite country.

By all means, 400 years of this detail would be immensely appreciated.
 
Now don't blame LD and MrT, Sharur! While they may be far ahead, this is no reason not to start an AAR of your own. Speaking of which, wasn't there a Sharur production to come to a theatre near us? ;)

Great updates, MrT, let's hope you don't stumble over the ghostbusters...