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Well, looks like I come back to find things not going well... perhaps you bit off more than you can chew?
Still, we're in this, and giving up is not an option! Back to Charleston, and let's fight on!
Still, we're in this, and giving up is not an option! Back to Charleston, and let's fight on!
Ouch! Things ain't lookin' all that well down in the deep south! I'm glad to see that Preston and Heyward are still kicking (well, at least Tom is still kicking 
). But tell me.... have we seen the last of our friendly Badenite? I hope so, he was quite the likeable fellow, eh?
Please tell me that Exeter is able to sample some of his own tactics when he heads up to Charleston... like maybe looking down the barrel of one of Tom's cannon just as it belches forth a salvo of grape shot?? (gee, does that make me a blood thirsty war wongerer? HOPE SO!!!
). But tell me.... have we seen the last of our friendly Badenite? I hope so, he was quite the likeable fellow, eh? Please tell me that Exeter is able to sample some of his own tactics when he heads up to Charleston... like maybe looking down the barrel of one of Tom's cannon just as it belches forth a salvo of grape shot??
(gee, does that make me a blood thirsty war wongerer? HOPE SO!!! 
I have to admit it's amusing to see an officer improve because he can't easily give orders.
You’re proving that you don’t have to have a large battle for plenty of excitement.
Well written as always CatKnight.
Joe
You’re proving that you don’t have to have a large battle for plenty of excitement.
Well written as always CatKnight.
Joe
*sniff, finally, Arnold (despite the injustices given to him, IMO in real history) is allowed to shine
Thats my favourite german!
I really look forward to more of your writing Catknight, i really like your map and explanation of the battle, it is easy to read, engaging, and flows very smoothly, what more can a guy ask for, i also like how you explain the technical terms even when the battle is a mere skirmish compared to those in Europe.
Thats my favourite german!
I really look forward to more of your writing Catknight, i really like your map and explanation of the battle, it is easy to read, engaging, and flows very smoothly, what more can a guy ask for
, i also like how you explain the technical terms even when the battle is a mere skirmish compared to those in Europe.
Stuyvesant: Very interesting! A little alarming, but very interesting.
Machiavellian: Well, the French AND Spanish are sieging the Creek now. The Spanish also marched an army from Texas all the way through French Louisiana, end-ran Exeter to prove they could, then marched all the way up the east coast into Shawnee territory and are helping with a siege there. Which reminds me, I better get Washington there to make sure they don't steal it.
J. Passepartout: The 'eye for an eye' line came naturally. Then I figured I better research it, and the Code wasn't found until the 1900s.o
Zeno of Cyprus: Thank you! The formations for the different armies came from a wargame I have, which is why so far most of my battles so far see the enemy armies very politely setting up across from each other. Charleston will be different. I just hope I win, I haven't played that far yet.
Judge: Thank you!
Judas Maccabeus: Nah, the rest of the war's starting to stabilize. I just have to beat Exeter and the south is over. Of course, beating him will be the hard part. I just don't have the manpower for a major rebuild if he takes Charleston.
Draco Rexus: So do I!
Storey: I actually think plenty of people in command/leadership positions would do much better if they couldn't easily give orders. :rofl:
TreizeV: Arnold's the only one up there doing reasonably well, but I think the tide in the north has safely turned.
It's sad (but true) when fairly major losses for me qualify as 'skirmish' by European standards
Machiavellian: Well, the French AND Spanish are sieging the Creek now. The Spanish also marched an army from Texas all the way through French Louisiana, end-ran Exeter to prove they could, then marched all the way up the east coast into Shawnee territory and are helping with a siege there. Which reminds me, I better get Washington there to make sure they don't steal it.
J. Passepartout: The 'eye for an eye' line came naturally. Then I figured I better research it, and the Code wasn't found until the 1900s.
o Zeno of Cyprus: Thank you! The formations for the different armies came from a wargame I have, which is why so far most of my battles so far see the enemy armies very politely setting up across from each other.
Charleston will be different. I just hope I win, I haven't played that far yet. Judge: Thank you!
Judas Maccabeus: Nah, the rest of the war's starting to stabilize. I just have to beat Exeter and the south is over. Of course, beating him will be the hard part. I just don't have the manpower for a major rebuild if he takes Charleston.
Draco Rexus: So do I!
Storey: I actually think plenty of people in command/leadership positions would do much better if they couldn't easily give orders. :rofl:
TreizeV: Arnold's the only one up there doing reasonably well, but I think the tide in the north has safely turned.
It's sad (but true) when fairly major losses for me qualify as 'skirmish' by European standards
Chapter 55: Dealing with Devils
13th September, 1779
Charleston, South Carolina
There were no cheering crowds when the sick and wounded crawled across the Savannah River and up the coastal road to Charleston. No triumphant bands celebrated their heroics, no lauding speeches by adoring politicians; just the mute, appalled faces of the public. Children stopped playing to watch, slack-jawed, as women covered their mouths in horror then literally picked their way through the melancholy train, as if they were at the market, seeking loved ones.
Their first official notice, indeed, was on approaching the city. The Daughters of Carolina, a cobbled together organization to help wives and mothers cope while their loved ones fought, threw together a field hospital from cots, blankets and sheets. They had recruited (forced) the men remaining to help, and the tents were already yielding to wooden buildings. Charleston, the jewel of the south, was fully engaged in the war.
As the acting commander, Tom's first job was to put together a list of the wounded - which took a long time as many had worsened during the journey and slipped into unconsciousness - and the confirmed dead. Towards the late evening, after consulting with the one doctor available (a handful of others were holding out for retainers from Congress,) he sent a message to the Governor of South Carolina asking to address the assembly as soon as humanly possible. He received a terse reply agreeing for the morning of the sixteenth.
When Heyward stepped into the assembly chamber of the state house however, he found it .. empty. The long table for guests to present evidence was empty, as were the innumerable chairs with their own desks. For a moment he thought he must have come too early, but at that moment the church's bell started ringing. Nine o'clock.
"Where is everyone?" he asked aloud.
"They're not here." Slowly, the Speaker of the Assembly's chair turned and Tom gawked. "Most have gone north. I dare say you will find it hard to find a quorum."
"Rutledge!"
"Good morning, Colonel. Have a seat." He indicated the long 'guest' table with one hand and clasped his hands on the Speaker's desk.
"What are you doing here?" Tom asked as he sat down.
"I was around," Rutledge replied. "When I learnt you were making your way through Georgia with the shattered remnants of Carolina's finest, I thought to come here and ask for an explanation."
"Explanation!?"
"Yes, sir. You .. or,I stand corrected, General Lincoln of Massachusetts is given twenty thousand of Carolina and Virginia's boys and he squanders them. He cannot successfully besiege a pack of savage dogs, nor can he even defeat a crippled general. His one success was founding a colony on the shores of the Gulf, and I dare say that's now in enemy hands. How many killed, sir? How many of our boys will not come home or have had their livelihoods destroyed due to the incompetence of that man?"
"Lincoln's doing his best, sir. The British were simply lucky. It seems Exeter is good at laying traps."
"Oh, I do not hold him solely responsible. There are others. For example, there is one man I have in mind. If he had not interfered in our lawful reprisal against the Cherokee, Exeter might be with us today. If he was not so adamant about striking back, perhaps we could have avoided fighting the English entirely. Indeed, it seems everything this man does turns to dust - or blood. Why are you here, Mister Heyward? Let me guess - to recruit more men for your Massachusetts general and have them ground down as well. I will not have it, sir!"
"Look. It's no secret we've disagreed since almost the beginning. You want to hold me responsible? Fine. Don't condemn all those men out there to die because of our grudge. You know Exeter will come here once he's taken Tallahassee, Savannah and Augusta. Charleston doesn't have any fortifications, and..."
"I know God damn well Charleston doesn't have any forts!" Rutledge exploded, his temper besting him at last. "And your New Englander bastard is leading him right to us!"
"I need to address the Assembly. We can hold him at the river. All we need is..."
"How many, sir?" Edward Rutledge asked furiously. "A thousand? Ten? Twenty? How many more men do you propose we send to war, not knowing if they will live or die?"
"What's the alternative? Capitulation?"
"Oh, yes. The British would love to get their hands on Charleston, sir. We have been instrumental in this independence movement, Charleston would be burnt to the ground. You and I could expect no mercy whatsoever if caught."
"We can stop that! If Exeter gets here, that's exactly what he'll do. We can stop him!"
"Well good luck, Colonel Heyward. The Assembly's not here and the Governor won't see you." He smiled as Tom's brows rose. "Yes, sir. You will find yourself quite friendless here. The commander who brought home so many wounded and dying? You may as well have walked in waving a black flag for 'plague.' You have always known what's best for Carolina, even when the Assembly disagreed, haven't you? Even when I advised you to seek South Carolina's interest, you subordinated us to the need of Yorker jackals and New England dogs. And now you expect South Carolina to put their interest ahead of hers again with yet another - ANOTHER army? You thought you knew more than your betters? You thought you could handle this? Fine, sir. Handle it!"
"You want me to say I was wrong? Fine, I was wrong." Tom stood. "You want me to say I need you? Fine!" He pounded the table and pointed. I. NEED. YOU!"
Rutledge glared at him for several moments. "Then you will do precisely what I say, Colonel, and you will leave the matter of governance to me. Swear it!"
"I swear it," Heyward growled.
"Then you shall have your army. God will not be able to save you if this one falls as well!"
13th September, 1779
Charleston, South Carolina
There were no cheering crowds when the sick and wounded crawled across the Savannah River and up the coastal road to Charleston. No triumphant bands celebrated their heroics, no lauding speeches by adoring politicians; just the mute, appalled faces of the public. Children stopped playing to watch, slack-jawed, as women covered their mouths in horror then literally picked their way through the melancholy train, as if they were at the market, seeking loved ones.
Their first official notice, indeed, was on approaching the city. The Daughters of Carolina, a cobbled together organization to help wives and mothers cope while their loved ones fought, threw together a field hospital from cots, blankets and sheets. They had recruited (forced) the men remaining to help, and the tents were already yielding to wooden buildings. Charleston, the jewel of the south, was fully engaged in the war.
As the acting commander, Tom's first job was to put together a list of the wounded - which took a long time as many had worsened during the journey and slipped into unconsciousness - and the confirmed dead. Towards the late evening, after consulting with the one doctor available (a handful of others were holding out for retainers from Congress,) he sent a message to the Governor of South Carolina asking to address the assembly as soon as humanly possible. He received a terse reply agreeing for the morning of the sixteenth.
When Heyward stepped into the assembly chamber of the state house however, he found it .. empty. The long table for guests to present evidence was empty, as were the innumerable chairs with their own desks. For a moment he thought he must have come too early, but at that moment the church's bell started ringing. Nine o'clock.
"Where is everyone?" he asked aloud.
"They're not here." Slowly, the Speaker of the Assembly's chair turned and Tom gawked. "Most have gone north. I dare say you will find it hard to find a quorum."
"Rutledge!"
"Good morning, Colonel. Have a seat." He indicated the long 'guest' table with one hand and clasped his hands on the Speaker's desk.
"What are you doing here?" Tom asked as he sat down.
"I was around," Rutledge replied. "When I learnt you were making your way through Georgia with the shattered remnants of Carolina's finest, I thought to come here and ask for an explanation."
"Explanation!?"
"Yes, sir. You .. or,I stand corrected, General Lincoln of Massachusetts is given twenty thousand of Carolina and Virginia's boys and he squanders them. He cannot successfully besiege a pack of savage dogs, nor can he even defeat a crippled general. His one success was founding a colony on the shores of the Gulf, and I dare say that's now in enemy hands. How many killed, sir? How many of our boys will not come home or have had their livelihoods destroyed due to the incompetence of that man?"
"Lincoln's doing his best, sir. The British were simply lucky. It seems Exeter is good at laying traps."
"Oh, I do not hold him solely responsible. There are others. For example, there is one man I have in mind. If he had not interfered in our lawful reprisal against the Cherokee, Exeter might be with us today. If he was not so adamant about striking back, perhaps we could have avoided fighting the English entirely. Indeed, it seems everything this man does turns to dust - or blood. Why are you here, Mister Heyward? Let me guess - to recruit more men for your Massachusetts general and have them ground down as well. I will not have it, sir!"
"Look. It's no secret we've disagreed since almost the beginning. You want to hold me responsible? Fine. Don't condemn all those men out there to die because of our grudge. You know Exeter will come here once he's taken Tallahassee, Savannah and Augusta. Charleston doesn't have any fortifications, and..."
"I know God damn well Charleston doesn't have any forts!" Rutledge exploded, his temper besting him at last. "And your New Englander bastard is leading him right to us!"
"I need to address the Assembly. We can hold him at the river. All we need is..."
"How many, sir?" Edward Rutledge asked furiously. "A thousand? Ten? Twenty? How many more men do you propose we send to war, not knowing if they will live or die?"
"What's the alternative? Capitulation?"
"Oh, yes. The British would love to get their hands on Charleston, sir. We have been instrumental in this independence movement, Charleston would be burnt to the ground. You and I could expect no mercy whatsoever if caught."
"We can stop that! If Exeter gets here, that's exactly what he'll do. We can stop him!"
"Well good luck, Colonel Heyward. The Assembly's not here and the Governor won't see you." He smiled as Tom's brows rose. "Yes, sir. You will find yourself quite friendless here. The commander who brought home so many wounded and dying? You may as well have walked in waving a black flag for 'plague.' You have always known what's best for Carolina, even when the Assembly disagreed, haven't you? Even when I advised you to seek South Carolina's interest, you subordinated us to the need of Yorker jackals and New England dogs. And now you expect South Carolina to put their interest ahead of hers again with yet another - ANOTHER army? You thought you knew more than your betters? You thought you could handle this? Fine, sir. Handle it!"
"You want me to say I was wrong? Fine, I was wrong." Tom stood. "You want me to say I need you? Fine!" He pounded the table and pointed. I. NEED. YOU!"
Rutledge glared at him for several moments. "Then you will do precisely what I say, Colonel, and you will leave the matter of governance to me. Swear it!"
"I swear it," Heyward growled.
"Then you shall have your army. God will not be able to save you if this one falls as well!"
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Okay, okay, okay, I'm forced to admit it, I'm beginning to have a shred of respect for Rutledge. I by no means like that black guard (hell, I'd love to see him in the front ranks of an infantry line, but seeing as the troops probably wouldn't allow it, I don't see that happening!), but I at least am beginning to have some respect for him.... kinda like you respect a tiger shark you see when you're scuba diving!
I dearly hope that Heyward is able to save Charleston... but it would be nice to see it saved at the expense of Rutledge's prestige if not life! (gee, there I go getting all blood thirsty again! It must be Monday at work. )
I dearly hope that Heyward is able to save Charleston... but it would be nice to see it saved at the expense of Rutledge's prestige if not life! (gee, there I go getting all blood thirsty again! It must be Monday at work.
)
Rutledge, again... Even with his home state and town at risk, he seems perfectly willing to use the war to put one over Heyward. That man is below reprehensible...
I guess it's a clear endorsement of your writing that I can loathe that character so much, even though he's a mere figment of your imagination. Well done!
I guess it's a clear endorsement of your writing that I can loathe that character so much, even though he's a mere figment of your imagination. Well done!
Rutledge happened to be the only man south of Virginia mentioned by one of my textbooks when it was naming delegates to the Continental Congress. Of course, they did have the Declaration of Independence, with Rutledge and Heyward sitting next to each other, but original text hardly counts.
It kind of sticks in my throat but some of what Rutledge says is corre... correc... correct. Damn that was hard to get out.
Joe
Joe
And that's what makes him so easy to hate, he's soo correct on some things, but in the nasty bad way you don't like.... which all points to a great writer! (shameless plug for CatKnight, I know, but the truth is the truth, eh?)
Draco Rexus: Respect like you would a tiger shark. Hm... I can work with that
Stuyvesant: Well, thank you! I guess it's obvious he doesn't like Tom, huh?
J. Passepartout: Rutledge is most certainly a historical character. I don't know much about his 'real' personality, though he was a lawyer and politician. Like Heyward (historically), he also served in the army as an artillery officer. I guess that's where the 'gentlemen' ended up at the time. The backbone of his personality I'm taking from the play '1776' which deals with the Declaration of Independence. Rutledge is portrayed as aristocratic and very defensive of southern rights. So a villian (ok, I admit it, he's a villian) is born!
Storey, Draco Rexus: Yes, it's quite annoying when he has a point.
Judge: He's my favorite villian in this piece. He could run circles around Exeter and Stewart at this point - if he wanted to that is. And now for more of the man...
Stuyvesant: Well, thank you! I guess it's obvious he doesn't like Tom, huh?
J. Passepartout: Rutledge is most certainly a historical character. I don't know much about his 'real' personality, though he was a lawyer and politician. Like Heyward (historically), he also served in the army as an artillery officer. I guess that's where the 'gentlemen' ended up at the time. The backbone of his personality I'm taking from the play '1776' which deals with the Declaration of Independence. Rutledge is portrayed as aristocratic and very defensive of southern rights. So a villian (ok, I admit it, he's a villian) is born!
Storey, Draco Rexus: Yes, it's quite annoying when he has a point.
Judge: He's my favorite villian in this piece. He could run circles around Exeter and Stewart at this point - if he wanted to that is. And now for more of the man...
Chapter 56: The Battle of Charleston (Part 1)
19th September, 1779
Charleston, South Carolina
Saint Michael's Church in Charleston stood near the heart of the city. Founded in 1761, it was one of the largest buildings in the city with a single spire towering over its brethren like Gulliver over the Lilliputians. It also happened to be very near the Liberty Tree, the place where a triumphant governor had first read America's official announcement that they were free six years before.
As such, it made as good a place as any for Edward Rutledge's speech. He stood on the steps of the church, with the Governor of South Carolina to his right and Tom to his left in full uniform. People crowded the steps nervously, men and women talking anxiously. They knew damn well what was happening. They knew about General Exeter, and though few believed the tales he must have horns and a tail, they couldn't doubt his sudden skill in generalship. So far the governor proved non-committal, so Rutledge's announcement that he would speak after church was welcome news. A plan, any plan, was better then none at all.
Edward Rutledge smiled as if they were all old friends. He did know most of them. There was Mister Carter, the publisher for the South Carolina Gazette. His cooperation was essential. There a messenger that would take his words to Wilmington and Raleigh. There were the women who'd lost loved ones - their righteous fury might prove crucial. Businessmen..yes, he could arouse their anger as well. His political career, not to mention his life and that of his city, were at stake and he couldn't afford to pull punches.
"Friends!" Rutledge cried, repeating himself every few seconds and holding his hands high until the crowd quieted. "Friends." He paused to pique their curiosity. "Countrymen, Carolinans!"
"Lend me your ears," Tom muttered, staring straight ahead. He clasped his hands behind his back and examined the crowd.
Rutledge shot him a dirty look then continued. "I do not need to warn you about the wolves at our doorstep. Six years ago the British sacked our fair city and murdered the president of our assembly. Now they return to finish their dirty work!
These are the same Englishmen who swore to protect us in the year twenty-one when we learnt the Lord Proprietors could not. They betrayed this trust by imposing taxes to crush us, and when we asked for redress they sent armies to bring us to heel. Let me say that again. We wanted to be treated as citizens, and they tried to whip us like dogs.
Carolina, my friends. Carolina has always been at the forefront of the fight for liberty and justice. These are words the Englishman does not understand. They do not understand that the word of a house of old men who have lost touch with their constituencies does not bind another. They do not understand that freedom - the right for a people to make their own laws and their own compacts - is the natural state of being. They do not share Carolina's freedom of thought, nor do they share our freedom of religion, for their masters know this destroys their base of power. If a man is truly free to make his own decisions, he cannot be suppressed by another.
This scares Britain. It scared them enough that they sent their own assassin, Jasen Exeter into our midst. Yes, General Exeter is the one who pretended to assault the Cherokee and failed even more miserably than if a toddler took command. We long thought this was incompetence, but his recent actions show he knew very well what he was doing. The Cherokee didn't murder five thousand of our children. Carolinans cannot lose to Indians. Exeter betrayed them, and so murdered them!
Once revealed, he fled to the south where he worked with diverse others to secure our downfall." He pointed towards the distant hospital. "That is more of Exeter's butchery. He trapped and continually ambushed our boys, who cannot hold a candle to him when it comes to lies or deceit. Why, Colonel Heyward here tells me that he constantly sent snipers ahead to pick away at our weakest and if not for the colonel's valor, no one would have come home at all."
Tom's eyebrow arched, and it was providence his jaw didn't drop at the obvious lie. The crowd ate it up though. They had to believe the only reason so many people died was they'd been out tricked. Sorrow slowly gave way to rage as Rutledge continued.
"For you see, my friends, the colonel is a Carolinan like you and me. Whereas General Lincoln is Massachusetts born and trapped in old and outmoded tactics, the Carolinan is harder to cheat. He marched tirelessly to save those he could, and for that he has our eternal gratitude."
Now Tom's jaw did slacken and he stared at the man.
"But Jasen Exeter is not done, my friends. No. I have told you he marches across Florida and across Georgia, leaving death and carnage in his wake. He plans to cross the Savannah River. He plans to destroy Beaufort and arc in on us. He expects British regulars to march through the streets, destroy the state house and cut down the Liberty Tree. He will declare martial law, and what his men do to our women and children at that point is not his worry. He will rob our banks to satisfy his soldiers and loot our stores. I know for a fact that his masters intend for him to burn Charleston to the ground! I do not exaggerate, my neighbors, when I tell you that the fight between liberty and tyranny, hope and despair, prosperity and submission, all will be decided by us. Their crimes end here!
Carolinans who have sacrificed so much, it is time to do so one more time. Once more against the darkness that would sweep our country and our persons from the face of this Earth. We trusted a New York man, and we found out he was an English traitor. We trusted one from Massachusetts, and he was found wanting. No more! It is Carolina under attack, and it is Carolina who will make this butcher answer for the crimes he's wrought. General Heyward will bring us victory. Exeter's rampage ends here!"
"I will?" Tom asked aloud, astonished, though his voice was drowned out by the crowd. Rutledge gave him another withering look.
"Once more my friends," Rutledge raised one finger. "Just once more. One more stand against the night and we can tell our grandchildren how it was Carolina who bought and paid for America's freedom. Once more and the jewel of the South will become the jewel of America! Just once more, and I swear to you that your mothers, your wives, your children need never fear the dark, for it ends here!" The last was bellowed as the crowd roared. "Grab your rifles and report to the parade grounds on the 'morrow. The war ends here!"
Rutledge smiled at the cheering crowd. As it started to disperse, Tom grabbed his elbow strong enough to swing him about. "You're putting me in charge?" he demanded.
"Of course. How else can I expect you to keep your promise?" The politician's eyes narrowed to slits as he detached his arm. "I strongly recommend you do not fail."
19th September, 1779
Charleston, South Carolina
Saint Michael's Church in Charleston stood near the heart of the city. Founded in 1761, it was one of the largest buildings in the city with a single spire towering over its brethren like Gulliver over the Lilliputians. It also happened to be very near the Liberty Tree, the place where a triumphant governor had first read America's official announcement that they were free six years before.
As such, it made as good a place as any for Edward Rutledge's speech. He stood on the steps of the church, with the Governor of South Carolina to his right and Tom to his left in full uniform. People crowded the steps nervously, men and women talking anxiously. They knew damn well what was happening. They knew about General Exeter, and though few believed the tales he must have horns and a tail, they couldn't doubt his sudden skill in generalship. So far the governor proved non-committal, so Rutledge's announcement that he would speak after church was welcome news. A plan, any plan, was better then none at all.
Edward Rutledge smiled as if they were all old friends. He did know most of them. There was Mister Carter, the publisher for the South Carolina Gazette. His cooperation was essential. There a messenger that would take his words to Wilmington and Raleigh. There were the women who'd lost loved ones - their righteous fury might prove crucial. Businessmen..yes, he could arouse their anger as well. His political career, not to mention his life and that of his city, were at stake and he couldn't afford to pull punches.
"Friends!" Rutledge cried, repeating himself every few seconds and holding his hands high until the crowd quieted. "Friends." He paused to pique their curiosity. "Countrymen, Carolinans!"
"Lend me your ears," Tom muttered, staring straight ahead. He clasped his hands behind his back and examined the crowd.
Rutledge shot him a dirty look then continued. "I do not need to warn you about the wolves at our doorstep. Six years ago the British sacked our fair city and murdered the president of our assembly. Now they return to finish their dirty work!
These are the same Englishmen who swore to protect us in the year twenty-one when we learnt the Lord Proprietors could not. They betrayed this trust by imposing taxes to crush us, and when we asked for redress they sent armies to bring us to heel. Let me say that again. We wanted to be treated as citizens, and they tried to whip us like dogs.
Carolina, my friends. Carolina has always been at the forefront of the fight for liberty and justice. These are words the Englishman does not understand. They do not understand that the word of a house of old men who have lost touch with their constituencies does not bind another. They do not understand that freedom - the right for a people to make their own laws and their own compacts - is the natural state of being. They do not share Carolina's freedom of thought, nor do they share our freedom of religion, for their masters know this destroys their base of power. If a man is truly free to make his own decisions, he cannot be suppressed by another.
This scares Britain. It scared them enough that they sent their own assassin, Jasen Exeter into our midst. Yes, General Exeter is the one who pretended to assault the Cherokee and failed even more miserably than if a toddler took command. We long thought this was incompetence, but his recent actions show he knew very well what he was doing. The Cherokee didn't murder five thousand of our children. Carolinans cannot lose to Indians. Exeter betrayed them, and so murdered them!
Once revealed, he fled to the south where he worked with diverse others to secure our downfall." He pointed towards the distant hospital. "That is more of Exeter's butchery. He trapped and continually ambushed our boys, who cannot hold a candle to him when it comes to lies or deceit. Why, Colonel Heyward here tells me that he constantly sent snipers ahead to pick away at our weakest and if not for the colonel's valor, no one would have come home at all."
Tom's eyebrow arched, and it was providence his jaw didn't drop at the obvious lie. The crowd ate it up though. They had to believe the only reason so many people died was they'd been out tricked. Sorrow slowly gave way to rage as Rutledge continued.
"For you see, my friends, the colonel is a Carolinan like you and me. Whereas General Lincoln is Massachusetts born and trapped in old and outmoded tactics, the Carolinan is harder to cheat. He marched tirelessly to save those he could, and for that he has our eternal gratitude."
Now Tom's jaw did slacken and he stared at the man.
"But Jasen Exeter is not done, my friends. No. I have told you he marches across Florida and across Georgia, leaving death and carnage in his wake. He plans to cross the Savannah River. He plans to destroy Beaufort and arc in on us. He expects British regulars to march through the streets, destroy the state house and cut down the Liberty Tree. He will declare martial law, and what his men do to our women and children at that point is not his worry. He will rob our banks to satisfy his soldiers and loot our stores. I know for a fact that his masters intend for him to burn Charleston to the ground! I do not exaggerate, my neighbors, when I tell you that the fight between liberty and tyranny, hope and despair, prosperity and submission, all will be decided by us. Their crimes end here!
Carolinans who have sacrificed so much, it is time to do so one more time. Once more against the darkness that would sweep our country and our persons from the face of this Earth. We trusted a New York man, and we found out he was an English traitor. We trusted one from Massachusetts, and he was found wanting. No more! It is Carolina under attack, and it is Carolina who will make this butcher answer for the crimes he's wrought. General Heyward will bring us victory. Exeter's rampage ends here!"
"I will?" Tom asked aloud, astonished, though his voice was drowned out by the crowd. Rutledge gave him another withering look.
"Once more my friends," Rutledge raised one finger. "Just once more. One more stand against the night and we can tell our grandchildren how it was Carolina who bought and paid for America's freedom. Once more and the jewel of the South will become the jewel of America! Just once more, and I swear to you that your mothers, your wives, your children need never fear the dark, for it ends here!" The last was bellowed as the crowd roared. "Grab your rifles and report to the parade grounds on the 'morrow. The war ends here!"
Rutledge smiled at the cheering crowd. As it started to disperse, Tom grabbed his elbow strong enough to swing him about. "You're putting me in charge?" he demanded.
"Of course. How else can I expect you to keep your promise?" The politician's eyes narrowed to slits as he detached his arm. "I strongly recommend you do not fail."
I spent the last three days reading this massive AAR, and I have to say that it was worth it. Good job, CatKnight. So Tom is a general now. Things should get interesting. Are you going to mod him into the game as a leader?
Well, it's good to see Rutledge fulfilling his role as villian... ah, I mean politician, no wait I mean villian... oh what's the difference!
Hopefully Heyward will be able to utterly destroy Exeter and maybe if we're lucky get Rutledge out of the picture as well! (There I go again being all blood thirsty and what not! Oh well, it's not like anybody would really miss Rutledge, eh?)
Hopefully Heyward will be able to utterly destroy Exeter and maybe if we're lucky get Rutledge out of the picture as well! (There I go again being all blood thirsty and what not! Oh well, it's not like anybody would really miss Rutledge, eh?)
Once more into the breach, dear friends, once more, and close up the wall with their English dead!
Now, once we're back to fighting, it would be a good time for somebody to organize a nightime reconissance (or however you spell it!) for Rutledge, and watch in "horror" as he's "accidentally" shot by his own soldiers.
Now, once we're back to fighting, it would be a good time for somebody to organize a nightime reconissance (or however you spell it!
) for Rutledge, and watch in "horror" as he's "accidentally" shot by his own soldiers.
I like the way you think Judas!
So, whaddya think CatKnight? Is that a possible course of action? Or is dear Rutledge to slimey to fall for that trick?
So, whaddya think CatKnight? Is that a possible course of action? Or is dear Rutledge to slimey to fall for that trick?