You convey an impending sense of doom in an army with a divided command. Historically, the French won. In this game, the Byzantines are also present, so who knows. Georgios is sure to be in the thick of battle.
-
We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
I have a feeling something very importing and decisiv in this war is about to hapen, but if it's good or bad for the empire I don't know. But it will nodout be entertaining to read about it.
Great writing as allways Sean, I'm eagerly awaiting the next update.
Great writing as allways Sean, I'm eagerly awaiting the next update.
Hey! You've recieved a weekly award, or something like that. Drop in some time, be told "congrats!" over and over and over again, say thank you, hand it off to someone else, put it in your signature, and get on with your life!
Here's to a great AAR!
(Edit that will get taken out if I'm not lazy at the time: it's currently on the previous winner, but that will change soon enough)
Here's to a great AAR!
(Edit that will get taken out if I'm not lazy at the time: it's currently on the previous winner, but that will change soon enough)
Um...yep, congrats Sean! You've won the Weekly AAR Showcase (again) for this story! C'mon over and do what joe said!
Battle of Almansa
The ground shook as a deep sound filled the air, shaking the ground around it as small rocks and other debris fell back to the earth. Officers shouted for their soldiers to remain calm as more cannon shots came soaring towards them.
Both sides were relentlessly pounding each other’s positions with artillery, however the barrages on both sides were having little real affect, and both the Portuguese and English commanders were growing impatient with the indecisive bombardment.
The Duke of Berwick however was in no hurry at all. His army had more than enough supplies, and he could call on reinforcements if needed.
Holding Madrid and having reestablished a clear rout to France meant that the Franco-Spanish army was well prepared for battle.
This was not to say that the allied army was ill prepared in terms of supplies, however the division in their command was threatening to tear the army apart.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Near the Anglo-Portuguese line
Galway looked to his commanders impatiently as the artillery barrage continued, his hands gripping the reins of his horse ever tighter. Finally growling under his breath, he drew his saber and turned his horse to face his commanders.
“This pointless barrage has gone on long enough! We must move to crush the Bourbon center immediately! Commander Graham, call our reserves to the front. We will be launching an all out attack against their center.” Galway stated, raising his saber into the sky, “To the glory of England!”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Near the Right Wing of the allied army
“Sir! The English are committing their reserves to an attack on the Bourbon center. What are your orders?” A Portuguese galloper questioned Marques das Minus, General of the Portuguese part of the “allied” army.
“Oh? The fool! Committing all of his soldiers to a rash forward assault. It looks like it is up to us to save him. Ready our cavalry; we will be attacking the left flank of the Bourbon army.” Marques ordered as he rode to the top of a nearby hill to observe the battle. “This will be a glorious victory for Portugal…” A smirk slowly crossed his face.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Near the Roman reserve army
“Megas Domestikos!” A galloper shouted as he quickly rode to the side of Alexandros Beliarious. “The Count of Galway has ordered an all out assault on the Bourbon center! He is calling on all reserves to join his attack, shall I go ahead and order our divisions to join with him?” The galloper questioned, more or less sure of a positive answer.
“No. I will not commit my men to such a foolhardy attack that clearly is doomed to failure. We will hold our men in reserve and remain in a defensive formation. When his attack fails, it will once again fall upon the Empire to save its foolish allies.” Grunted under his breath as he clutched the reins of his horse tightly.
The stunned galloper could only salute in acknowledgment, never knowing his Megas Domestikos to speak in such a bitter tone.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Center Commander Georgios watched with great concern as the Anglo-Portuguese army moved on the Bourbon Center as well as the left flank with little or no help from them. Though wishing to aid his allies despite their foolish tactics, he obeyed his general’s orders. In truth, he believed that while their attacks were indeed tactically unsound, the Megas Domestikos was acting out of bitterness with his refusal to send aid.
“This isn’t like the Megas Domestikos…” Georgios muttered under his breath. He knew their attack had little chance for success at this point, but with his hands tied as they were, Georgios could only sit and watch as his allies rode into the jaws of defeat.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the English army made its way towards the Bourbon center, they were hit hard by the enemies artillery. The English artillery, being considerably further away from the more or less static Bourbon line, was unable to provide the decisive support needed to cover the advancing English regiments. French grapeshot tore through the English ranks as they scrambled to reach the Bourbon line, leaving broken, mangled bodies in the paths of the surviving soldiers, forcing them to literally climb over the tattered remains of the comrades.
The Portuguese cavalry was fairing little better. The Bourbon army proved itself to be flexible and organized, responding well to the Portuguese flanking maneuver with their own cavalry. The disciplined and well trained French Cavalry proved themselves to be more than a match for their Portuguese counterparts, and quickly shattered their charge, routing them back towards the allied army.
Spanish light cavalry was promptly sent in pursuit of the fleeting Portuguese, ensuring that there was not rally. The French cavalry now turned its attention to the already struggling English advance, quickly riding towards the rear of their advance. Without the Imperial army to cover them, there was no opposition to the French flanking maneuver and they charged freely into the rear of the English center, which had become engaged in a brutal melee with their Bourbon counterparts.
The affect was devastating. The English, surrounded and hammered from behind by the French cavalry were mercilessly cut down. Unable to retreat, the remaining survivors quickly surrendered, no hope of victory apparent to them. This only left the vastly outnumbered Roman Army to oppose them.
With only 10,000 soldiers against an army of over 25,000, the fight was utterly hopeless. With shock on his face at the utter devastation of the allied army, Alexandros for the first time in years found himself speechless. He had not anticipated his allies being defeated so completely. He merely expected their attack to falter, allowing him to move in at a decisive moment to rescue them.
What he received instead was the sight of the complete annihilation of all but his forces. He had not had time to respond, as defeat of the Portuguese cavalry, and the encirclement of the English army happened at utterly shocking speed. Alexandros clutched the reins of his horse, gritting his teeth in anger at himself.
“I can not believe I allowed myself to be so foolish. To compromise the battle with my ignorant pride! I am no better than they…it was up to we three Generals to work together to win this battle, but we have betrayed our men. We have cost them their lives because of our foolish arrogance, and now we are at the mercy of the Bourbons…” Alexandros said, as he watched the entire Bourbon army begin its advanced upon their position.
Alexandros saw in the distance the Portuguese and English Generals riding towards him, with what few English and Portuguese survivors remained. Perhaps less than 5,000 in all, it was a harrowing site. As the three men met once more, the survivors fleeing past them, there were no words for what seemed like an eternity.
“Well then…shall we retreat?” Galway said, breaking the silence.
Alexandros and Marques das Minas both nodded slowly, and the three men gave the order to retreat to the gallopers. With the Bourbons quickly advancing on their position, they would have to leave all of their heavy weaponry, such as their artillery, behind in order to make haste. It was a humiliating defeat for all involved, and was the first defeat, in what would prove to be a bad year for the allies.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hey! Did you think I died? No, I've just not had any inspiration to write I'm afraid. I needed a long break from writing the AAR to let new ideas come to me. But I seem to be catching a second wind, and I hope I'll be able to churn out a serious amount of updates for you this year, to make up for last, which I admit was far less productive than I would have liked it to be.
Anyway, late Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of year to all of you, heres wishing for a good years worth of writing.
Zomg! You lost! I was fearing you'd alraedy won the war, this does indeed bring some extra spice to this delecious AAR.
Keep it up, Sean!
-TGD
Keep it up, Sean!
-TGD
O the humanity the war continues! Hopefully Georgios can save the day yet again!
Good to see you back!
Hopefully Georgios can save the day yet again! Good to see you back!
War of the Spanish Succession: 1707
After the catastrophic defeat of the allied army at the Battle of Almansa, their position in Spain became extremely tenuous. With their outnumbered and overstretched army on the retreat from a relentless Bourbon offensive, Grand Domestic Alexandros Beliarious made the decision to withdraw his troops from Spain. The Imperial army retreated towards the port of Valencia while the English army under the Count of Galway retreated towards southern Spain, which was still in English hands, albeit just barely.
The tattered remains of the Portuguese army made their way back to Portugal itself, to brace for the attack the Marques das Minas now feared was inevitable.
Though some allied troops would remain in Spain for the duration of the war, at this point the bulk of their armies were withdrawn to other fronts, and the war in Spain descended into minor skirmishes. The allies’ misfortunes in 1707 would continue however, for after receiving word of the allied defeat at Almansa, Marshall Francois de Neufville launched a brutal surprise attack against the Imperial army in Southern France.
Still enroot to Italy, the Grand Domestic did not even know that the attack was taking place, and it fell upon General Domnus Tarsites to attempt to mount a defense. Unfortunately, the French counterattack came as a complete surprise, and the Imperial Army found itself ill prepared to halt the French advance.
Finally forcing the Imperial Army to make a stand several miles outside the French city of Lyon, Francois decisively defeated Domnus, sending his army retreating towards Italy. Within only the relatively short time of two months, the French had recovered their lost territory, and were poised to attack Roman Italy.
When Alexandros arrived in Rome, it is said his face grew pale when he was informed of the French counteroffensive. It was a devastating defeat for the Roman Empire, on the heels of their defeat at Almansa. It had taken years to progress to that point, yet the French managed to recover their lost territory in months, due to the willing cooperation of the local population.
Grand Domestic Alexandros Beliarious ordered his army of 10,000 north to meet with the retreating Rumelia Tagma under General Domnus. However, Francois de Neufville, determined not to give the Greeks a chance to recover, immediately launched his attack on Italy, seizing the fortress of Torino, where the original French invasion of Italy earlier in the war had been stopped.
Military analysts consider this today, to be one of the most drastic turnarounds in early modern history, starting with the Battle of Almansa. Had the allies won in Spain, the Romans would have been able to respond far quicker to the French attack, as they would have had an easy land rout into southern France.
France was on its last legs at the height of the allies invasion of Spain, but by the later half of 1707, their position had began to improve dramatically with these victories.
Francois, following his capture of Torino moved his army further into Italy, passing the heavily garrisoned fortress of Milan, and instead attacking the large port city of Genoa. Though the cities’ population at the time was only second to Constantinople itself in the Empire, the fortress that protected it was relatively small.
The population offered little resistance, as, while they had come to accept Greek rule, they were not yet willing to fight their “Catholic Brothers” for them. Continuing his string of victories, Francois soon after captured the Italian city of Parma.
Finally, Francois, with his supply lines becoming stretched, and his soldiers exhausted from the constant marching and fighting, stopped at Parma to reorganize his army.
The French counteroffensive in the south was not only a turnaround against the Greeks, but against the Great Britain, the United Provinces, and the Holy Roman Empire as well. Counterattacks against German-occupied territories in Central France, as well as the contested Spanish Netherlands, proved successful, as 1707 proved itself a good year for the Bourbon alliance.
Mustering all the men he had, Grand Domestic Alexandros Beliarious chose to make his stand a few miles outside the Italian city of Firenze. Combining with the remnants of the Romelia Tagma, and calling up several new regiments of Italian troops, he reinforced the fortress protecting the province, and prepared for the French attack.
He would not need to wait long, as after only about a week after stopping, Francois had ordered his army to march on their position. He hoped to decisively crush the last organized Imperial resistance in Italy, which would give him a free hand in conquering the rest of the peninsula.
Just miles outside of Parma, the two armies met. The French army consisted of 105,000 men, while the Roman Army held close to 90,000. This was France’s big chance to deal the Empire a crushing defeat that could potentially end the war in their favor.
Great twist in the story. Now for the crunch, with Georgios in the thick of the action and, after victory that seems less than inevitable after Almansa. his own army as one of the prongs of the fork the Grand Domestic is going to use on the french.
Aside from the war, one notable event that took place in 1707 in the British Isles was the formal unification of the Kingdoms of England and Scotland into the Kingdom of Great Britain on May 1st. Although England and Scotland had shared the same Sovereign since the early 17th century, the two had nominally remained independent nations.
However, economic troubles, as well as the catastrophic failure of Scotland’s attempt to establish a colony at Panama(named the Darien Scheme) resulted in Scotland going into severe debt; this debt was covered by England, however, and this proved to be the likely motivation of Scotland’s acceptance of the Acts of Union, which formally united the two separate Kingdoms.
In Germany, Austria continued its fight with Bavaria. While the Holy Roman Emperor had seized Bavaria’s northernmost territories, he had proven himself unable to take its capital. Surprising Austria completely, Bavaria launched a successful invasion of the Austrian province of Tyrol. Angered by this humiliation, the Emperor gathered roughly 50,000 men and marched on the province, but was unable to recover it until 1708 due to strong resistance by the Bavarian army.
This infighting between two Catholic members of the Holy Roman Empire demonstrated to all how unstable and disunited it had become by this state. The Catholic electors were no longer united even by their religion, and it was clear that the Empire of Charlemagne was on its last legs.
Spain, after its victory at Almansa, and with French naval assistance sent roughly 20,000 troops from across Spain to help fight in the Spanish Netherlands. With southern France recovered, the allies no longer had a reliable way into Spain, allowing them to focus more on other fronts, though the English still held some land in Southern Spain.
The fight for the Spanish Netherlands in 1707 was mostly a conflict between Spain, France and the Dutch Republic, as well as the German armies of Prussia and Cologne.
Things began to take a turn for the better for the Bourbons when they successfully recovered the provinces of Brabant and Luxemburg. However the Prussian garrison of Flandern managed to hold against their relentless assaults. Near the end of 1707 things began to once again turn against them however.
Luxemburg found itself besieged by an army from Cologne, which despite its relatively small size proved to be extremely well disciplined and trained. Reinforcements from both Prussian and Austria were also approaching to recover their lost ground, while France had the bulk of its armies fighting in Italy and central Germany, and was unable to send substantial forces to the region.
In central Germany, a fierce rivalry between Austrian Field Marshall “Prinz” Eugene of Savoy, and French General the Duc de Vendôme was taking place. Eugene, a brilliant commander fought against a sizable French army lead by the seasoned and experienced Duc de Vendome, who had successfully repelled a German invasion of Alsace-Lorraine earlier that year, and launched his own counter-offensive into central Germany.
The two grizzled and competent commanders proved themselves to be more or less evenly matched, the superior size of the French army offsetting any difference in skill between them. While the Duc de Vendome’s offensive into Germany went well at first, in October of 1707, Prinz Eugene managed to halt his advance at the Battle of Wurttemberg. The battle ended in an orderly French withdraw from the region, however Eugene was successful in preventing the French army from linking up with Bavaria, which could have been potentially devastating to the allies efforts.
However, perhaps the most important battle during the year took place in Italy. As stated earlier, the French offensive into Italy had proven itself to be a great success, and resistance had been relatively light.
However by November 17th, Grand Domestic Alexandros Beliarious had managed to gather enough men in Italy to oppose French Marshall Francois de Neufville, Duc de Villeroi at the former city-state of Parma. Though slightly outnumbered by the French, the Roman army had fortified itself on a steep incline that blocked the way to Parma and thus the rest of Italy.
The Imperial Navy still controlled the Mediterranean, thus supplies could only come to the French army across land. For this reason, Parma had to be taken, and the Imperial Army had to be defeated, as any attempt to bypass them could leave their supply lines vulnerable to enemy attack.
Confident in victory due to his previous successes earlier in the year, he quickly marched his army towards the Grand Domestic’s position. On November 17th, the two armies faced each other for the fate of Italy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The trees swayed gently in the wind, as due from the previous night’s rain trickled from their leaves. The air was moist, but soothing. Small birds flew from branch to branch to drink the water droplets as their chirps filled the morning air.
It was the land of Parma, once home of the Dukes of Parma before the regions conquest by the Roman Empire. Under its rule, the city and its territories had prospered, as had the rest of Italy due to the peace established by the single rule of the peninsula, something that had not existed since the time of the old Western Empire.
This peace had been shattered however with the French invasion force of Francois de Neufville, Duc de Villeroi. Hoping to return Italy to its former state, and give the King of France, Louis XIV the honor of handing Rome back to the Pope himself.
This would not only undermine the Eastern Empire, but also the Western Holy Roman Empire, whose duty was to defend Rome. Perhaps the Pope would feel it was time for a new protector…? These were the thoughts that crossed through Francois mind as his army marched towards the Imperial Army’s position.
Megas Domestikos Alexandros Beliarious could only sit and watch as the French army approached them. Their army had readied itself to defend a large incline that lay between Parma and the rest of north-western Italy. Francois, knowing the risk to his supply lines should he do so, chose not to pass this position up, and confront the Greeks.
France did indeed possess a numerical advantage of roughly 15,000 men, and while it did not guarantee victory, it was certainly a valuable asset to any commander.
Alexandros knew that he had to halt the French invasion here, for this army which he raised was mostly Italian, and should it be defeated he knew he could not raise another in time, nor would he be able to receive sufficient men from Constantinople before he was driven out of Italy.
The Imperial Army had, in spite of the relatively short time span they had to work with, constructed a descent wooden barricade across the incline.
This would further aide their defensive advantage. Francois, realizing the cost of his rashness in previous battles chose to begin with a strong artillery barrage before sending men forward to fight with them.
Though the incline made actually hitting the barrage difficult, he understood that some where bound to hit, and any breeches he could create in their defenses would be invaluable.
The barrage began at 10 AM, with round shot screeching towards the incline and its fortifications nonstop. Though most did fail to cause any damage, those that did hit were able to knock fairly solid holes into the wooden barricades. Roman soldiers rushed to repair them under the constant French bombardment, the sound of the cannon and the impacts they made being constant throughout the day. By 8 PM the bombardment had not relented. Center Commander Georgios Curcuas restlessly rode back and forth, instructing his men on repairing the barricades that had been damaged.
He could see the looks on their faces, their nerves were being tested by the constant bombardment. Dirt and ground was being thrown high into the sky by the impacts, often coming down directly on top of them. The constant sound of the cannon had begun to seriously rattle the nerves of some men.
“Stay strong men! They’ll eventually run out of round shot, and then they’ll be forced to face us, like true men! That will be our hour!” He shouted to them. Georgios understood the stress they were under. He gazed out across the field at the French cannon, wondering how much ammunition they had left.
The bombardment had not let up once for over 10 hours. Glancing at his men again, Georgios could only pray that their ammunition would give out before the hearts of his soldiers did.
By 4 AM in the morning, the bombardment had yet to cease. The constant sound of the cannons prevented either side from resting properly. The French armies’ round shot was starting to run low however, and most agreed that it would not last past daylight.
Within his command tent, Francois had began drawing up a plan of attack…
“I have decided that a multi-pronged attack is the solution.” Francois said as he paced in his command tent, addressing his commanders.
“We will send 30,000 men to the east of the Byzantine fortifications, while 20,000 men circle around the incline to attack from the rear. The remaining men will attack from the front. All of this will be happening at the same time, forcing them to divide their numerically inferior army against us.” He finished stating his plan to his senior officers.
“You are now dismissed. Move your men to their designated positions and wait for my signal!”
The soldiers sharply salute Marshall Francois and exit the tent. Francois slowly walked over to his chair, sitting down in it with a slight huff. A slight smile crept across his face as he thought about the coming victory. “It shall be a glorious day for France. We will liberate Italy from their Byzantine conquerors, and then we will defeat the rest of France’s enemies and secure our rightful place in this world!” He said to himself as he gripped the hilt of his saber tightly.
Georgios watched the French army as it separated from itself to move to different areas around the incline. He realized they were preparing to attack almost instantly. Alexandros also knew this. Raising his saber in the air to gain the attention of his artillery crew, he swiftly ordered them to bring the artillery forward.
He did not intend to the French an easy advance. As the French army assumed its position around the incline, French trumpets began to sound, echoing across the area and signaling the different groups to advance.
Georgios realized that they were acting with haste because they wished to advance up the large hill while it was still night. As the defenders, they had the advantage because they would be able to fire down at them as they struggled up the incline.
By advancing at night, it became harder to hit them in the dark, though the white uniforms of the Royal French army somewhat negated this. As the French army approached, Imperial soldiers rushed to their firing positions along the edges of the fortifications, waiting for the enemy to come in range.
The artillery had also been rolled into position and was waiting for the order to fire. The three pronged French attack had forced them to divide their army accordingly, however certain areas defenses were left dangerously thin due to a lack of men.
Attempts had been made to compensate for this by placing experienced and elite regiments, such as the 19th, 7th, and 24th regiments to cover these areas, but it still remained a concern.
Alexandros rode towards the front of the barricades against his bodyguards objections and looked out over the battlefield.
“Francois isn’t underestimating us this time. This will not be an easy battle.” He murmured to himself. After a few more minutes passed, he rose his saber once more, glancing at his commanders, “Artillery…FIRE!!”
The sound of the Roman artillery filled the as grapeshot was soon propelled from the cannon and towards the charging French soldiers. All around the French soldiers containers full of musket balls exploded around them, shredding through their ranks. Yet more continued to charge up the hill in their place, determined to make this day end in victory for France. The charge was not broken, and continued despite the heavy bombardment by the Roman cannon.
As the French came within 200 yards, Georgios and the other commanders drew their swords. “Ready…” Georgios’ voice said above the cannon fire as the Captains of the individual regiments echoed him.
As the French soldiers came within 150 yards, Georgios swiftly slashed saber downwards, “FIRE!!” The entire barricade was soon alight with musket fire as waves of French soldiers crumpled and collapsed in the face of the concentrated volleys.
“Reload!” Georgios shouted as the men quickly began reloading their weapons for the next volley. After roughly 15 seconds, Georgios ordered for them to fire once more, sending another heavy volley at the approaching French.
“Fire at will!!” Georgios shouted as the soldiers began to fire at their own discretion, being able to actually aim with fair certainty as the French soldiers grew closer. Despite the heavy casualties suffered on the initial charge, the French remained undaunted after two more volleys from the Roman soldiers, the first French soldiers had reached the barricade. The Roman soldiers had taken the initiative and equipped their bayonets, and were waiting for them.
What ensued was a brutal melee, as the French army began trying to climb over the barricade. Both sides were exhausted from the house without sleep, but both were fighting with all they had left. The Roman soldiers were holding the barricade in spite of the relentless French attempts to climb over it, however the enemy had started noticing the weaker spots within their defenses and began to exploit it.
Despite being outnumbered, the 19th and other elite regiments were holding there own against ever increasing odds. Captain Adrianos and his men were fighting savagely to hold the French back as more continued to climb over the barricades.
Whenever one would be cut down, another would take his place, and many Frenchmen had not fire their muskets yet, enabling them to fire as soon as they began to climb over the Roman fortifications, killing the would be defender before he was able to stab them with his bayonet. Near the thick of it was Alexandros, riding back and forth across the barricades shouting encouragements to the friendly troops.
The battle was unrelenting as bodies began to pile up along the barricade, the sun slowly peaking above the mountains as the smell of blood filled the air. The barricade had yet to fall, and French casualties had been substantial, however the Roman troops had also suffered losses, and the barricades defenses were starting to give way to the relentless French attack.
Alexandros continued to encourage his soldiers as best he could, seeing that they were beginning to falter. “Don’t give up! We’ve bloodied their noses! Just a little bit longer and they will be running home with their tail between their legs!!” Alexandros shouted as he waved his saber high.
Georgios was doing all he could to direct the defense of his area as well, attempting to relocate troops whenever a breakthrough looked to be imminent. The French army was also becoming demoralized and exhausted after the heavy casualties they had suffered throughout the battle. The battle looked like it would drag on for God knows how long, in as the fight continued, a stray shot from a random musket made a decisive strike…
“Keep fighting! It won’t be long now! We just have to fight on a little long-” Alexandros was cut off as a sharp pain shot through his chest. He felt himself fall backwards and to the side, falling from his horse and impacting the ground hard. Georgios quickly twisted his head around to see his Megas Domestikos fall to the ground, and immediately rode towards him. “Megas Domestikos!!” Georgios shouted as he watched him lay on the ground, struggling to move…
However, economic troubles, as well as the catastrophic failure of Scotland’s attempt to establish a colony at Panama(named the Darien Scheme) resulted in Scotland going into severe debt; this debt was covered by England, however, and this proved to be the likely motivation of Scotland’s acceptance of the Acts of Union, which formally united the two separate Kingdoms.
In Germany, Austria continued its fight with Bavaria. While the Holy Roman Emperor had seized Bavaria’s northernmost territories, he had proven himself unable to take its capital. Surprising Austria completely, Bavaria launched a successful invasion of the Austrian province of Tyrol. Angered by this humiliation, the Emperor gathered roughly 50,000 men and marched on the province, but was unable to recover it until 1708 due to strong resistance by the Bavarian army.
This infighting between two Catholic members of the Holy Roman Empire demonstrated to all how unstable and disunited it had become by this state. The Catholic electors were no longer united even by their religion, and it was clear that the Empire of Charlemagne was on its last legs.
Spain, after its victory at Almansa, and with French naval assistance sent roughly 20,000 troops from across Spain to help fight in the Spanish Netherlands. With southern France recovered, the allies no longer had a reliable way into Spain, allowing them to focus more on other fronts, though the English still held some land in Southern Spain.
The fight for the Spanish Netherlands in 1707 was mostly a conflict between Spain, France and the Dutch Republic, as well as the German armies of Prussia and Cologne.
Things began to take a turn for the better for the Bourbons when they successfully recovered the provinces of Brabant and Luxemburg. However the Prussian garrison of Flandern managed to hold against their relentless assaults. Near the end of 1707 things began to once again turn against them however.
Luxemburg found itself besieged by an army from Cologne, which despite its relatively small size proved to be extremely well disciplined and trained. Reinforcements from both Prussian and Austria were also approaching to recover their lost ground, while France had the bulk of its armies fighting in Italy and central Germany, and was unable to send substantial forces to the region.
In central Germany, a fierce rivalry between Austrian Field Marshall “Prinz” Eugene of Savoy, and French General the Duc de Vendôme was taking place. Eugene, a brilliant commander fought against a sizable French army lead by the seasoned and experienced Duc de Vendome, who had successfully repelled a German invasion of Alsace-Lorraine earlier that year, and launched his own counter-offensive into central Germany.
The two grizzled and competent commanders proved themselves to be more or less evenly matched, the superior size of the French army offsetting any difference in skill between them. While the Duc de Vendome’s offensive into Germany went well at first, in October of 1707, Prinz Eugene managed to halt his advance at the Battle of Wurttemberg. The battle ended in an orderly French withdraw from the region, however Eugene was successful in preventing the French army from linking up with Bavaria, which could have been potentially devastating to the allies efforts.
However, perhaps the most important battle during the year took place in Italy. As stated earlier, the French offensive into Italy had proven itself to be a great success, and resistance had been relatively light.
However by November 17th, Grand Domestic Alexandros Beliarious had managed to gather enough men in Italy to oppose French Marshall Francois de Neufville, Duc de Villeroi at the former city-state of Parma. Though slightly outnumbered by the French, the Roman army had fortified itself on a steep incline that blocked the way to Parma and thus the rest of Italy.
The Imperial Navy still controlled the Mediterranean, thus supplies could only come to the French army across land. For this reason, Parma had to be taken, and the Imperial Army had to be defeated, as any attempt to bypass them could leave their supply lines vulnerable to enemy attack.
Confident in victory due to his previous successes earlier in the year, he quickly marched his army towards the Grand Domestic’s position. On November 17th, the two armies faced each other for the fate of Italy.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The trees swayed gently in the wind, as due from the previous night’s rain trickled from their leaves. The air was moist, but soothing. Small birds flew from branch to branch to drink the water droplets as their chirps filled the morning air.
It was the land of Parma, once home of the Dukes of Parma before the regions conquest by the Roman Empire. Under its rule, the city and its territories had prospered, as had the rest of Italy due to the peace established by the single rule of the peninsula, something that had not existed since the time of the old Western Empire.
This peace had been shattered however with the French invasion force of Francois de Neufville, Duc de Villeroi. Hoping to return Italy to its former state, and give the King of France, Louis XIV the honor of handing Rome back to the Pope himself.
This would not only undermine the Eastern Empire, but also the Western Holy Roman Empire, whose duty was to defend Rome. Perhaps the Pope would feel it was time for a new protector…? These were the thoughts that crossed through Francois mind as his army marched towards the Imperial Army’s position.
Megas Domestikos Alexandros Beliarious could only sit and watch as the French army approached them. Their army had readied itself to defend a large incline that lay between Parma and the rest of north-western Italy. Francois, knowing the risk to his supply lines should he do so, chose not to pass this position up, and confront the Greeks.
France did indeed possess a numerical advantage of roughly 15,000 men, and while it did not guarantee victory, it was certainly a valuable asset to any commander.
Alexandros knew that he had to halt the French invasion here, for this army which he raised was mostly Italian, and should it be defeated he knew he could not raise another in time, nor would he be able to receive sufficient men from Constantinople before he was driven out of Italy.
The Imperial Army had, in spite of the relatively short time span they had to work with, constructed a descent wooden barricade across the incline.
This would further aide their defensive advantage. Francois, realizing the cost of his rashness in previous battles chose to begin with a strong artillery barrage before sending men forward to fight with them.
Though the incline made actually hitting the barrage difficult, he understood that some where bound to hit, and any breeches he could create in their defenses would be invaluable.
The barrage began at 10 AM, with round shot screeching towards the incline and its fortifications nonstop. Though most did fail to cause any damage, those that did hit were able to knock fairly solid holes into the wooden barricades. Roman soldiers rushed to repair them under the constant French bombardment, the sound of the cannon and the impacts they made being constant throughout the day. By 8 PM the bombardment had not relented. Center Commander Georgios Curcuas restlessly rode back and forth, instructing his men on repairing the barricades that had been damaged.
He could see the looks on their faces, their nerves were being tested by the constant bombardment. Dirt and ground was being thrown high into the sky by the impacts, often coming down directly on top of them. The constant sound of the cannon had begun to seriously rattle the nerves of some men.
“Stay strong men! They’ll eventually run out of round shot, and then they’ll be forced to face us, like true men! That will be our hour!” He shouted to them. Georgios understood the stress they were under. He gazed out across the field at the French cannon, wondering how much ammunition they had left.
The bombardment had not let up once for over 10 hours. Glancing at his men again, Georgios could only pray that their ammunition would give out before the hearts of his soldiers did.
By 4 AM in the morning, the bombardment had yet to cease. The constant sound of the cannons prevented either side from resting properly. The French armies’ round shot was starting to run low however, and most agreed that it would not last past daylight.
Within his command tent, Francois had began drawing up a plan of attack…
“I have decided that a multi-pronged attack is the solution.” Francois said as he paced in his command tent, addressing his commanders.
“We will send 30,000 men to the east of the Byzantine fortifications, while 20,000 men circle around the incline to attack from the rear. The remaining men will attack from the front. All of this will be happening at the same time, forcing them to divide their numerically inferior army against us.” He finished stating his plan to his senior officers.
“You are now dismissed. Move your men to their designated positions and wait for my signal!”
The soldiers sharply salute Marshall Francois and exit the tent. Francois slowly walked over to his chair, sitting down in it with a slight huff. A slight smile crept across his face as he thought about the coming victory. “It shall be a glorious day for France. We will liberate Italy from their Byzantine conquerors, and then we will defeat the rest of France’s enemies and secure our rightful place in this world!” He said to himself as he gripped the hilt of his saber tightly.
Georgios watched the French army as it separated from itself to move to different areas around the incline. He realized they were preparing to attack almost instantly. Alexandros also knew this. Raising his saber in the air to gain the attention of his artillery crew, he swiftly ordered them to bring the artillery forward.
He did not intend to the French an easy advance. As the French army assumed its position around the incline, French trumpets began to sound, echoing across the area and signaling the different groups to advance.
Georgios realized that they were acting with haste because they wished to advance up the large hill while it was still night. As the defenders, they had the advantage because they would be able to fire down at them as they struggled up the incline.
By advancing at night, it became harder to hit them in the dark, though the white uniforms of the Royal French army somewhat negated this. As the French army approached, Imperial soldiers rushed to their firing positions along the edges of the fortifications, waiting for the enemy to come in range.
The artillery had also been rolled into position and was waiting for the order to fire. The three pronged French attack had forced them to divide their army accordingly, however certain areas defenses were left dangerously thin due to a lack of men.
Attempts had been made to compensate for this by placing experienced and elite regiments, such as the 19th, 7th, and 24th regiments to cover these areas, but it still remained a concern.
Alexandros rode towards the front of the barricades against his bodyguards objections and looked out over the battlefield.
“Francois isn’t underestimating us this time. This will not be an easy battle.” He murmured to himself. After a few more minutes passed, he rose his saber once more, glancing at his commanders, “Artillery…FIRE!!”
The sound of the Roman artillery filled the as grapeshot was soon propelled from the cannon and towards the charging French soldiers. All around the French soldiers containers full of musket balls exploded around them, shredding through their ranks. Yet more continued to charge up the hill in their place, determined to make this day end in victory for France. The charge was not broken, and continued despite the heavy bombardment by the Roman cannon.
As the French came within 200 yards, Georgios and the other commanders drew their swords. “Ready…” Georgios’ voice said above the cannon fire as the Captains of the individual regiments echoed him.
As the French soldiers came within 150 yards, Georgios swiftly slashed saber downwards, “FIRE!!” The entire barricade was soon alight with musket fire as waves of French soldiers crumpled and collapsed in the face of the concentrated volleys.
“Reload!” Georgios shouted as the men quickly began reloading their weapons for the next volley. After roughly 15 seconds, Georgios ordered for them to fire once more, sending another heavy volley at the approaching French.
“Fire at will!!” Georgios shouted as the soldiers began to fire at their own discretion, being able to actually aim with fair certainty as the French soldiers grew closer. Despite the heavy casualties suffered on the initial charge, the French remained undaunted after two more volleys from the Roman soldiers, the first French soldiers had reached the barricade. The Roman soldiers had taken the initiative and equipped their bayonets, and were waiting for them.
What ensued was a brutal melee, as the French army began trying to climb over the barricade. Both sides were exhausted from the house without sleep, but both were fighting with all they had left. The Roman soldiers were holding the barricade in spite of the relentless French attempts to climb over it, however the enemy had started noticing the weaker spots within their defenses and began to exploit it.
Despite being outnumbered, the 19th and other elite regiments were holding there own against ever increasing odds. Captain Adrianos and his men were fighting savagely to hold the French back as more continued to climb over the barricades.
Whenever one would be cut down, another would take his place, and many Frenchmen had not fire their muskets yet, enabling them to fire as soon as they began to climb over the Roman fortifications, killing the would be defender before he was able to stab them with his bayonet. Near the thick of it was Alexandros, riding back and forth across the barricades shouting encouragements to the friendly troops.
The battle was unrelenting as bodies began to pile up along the barricade, the sun slowly peaking above the mountains as the smell of blood filled the air. The barricade had yet to fall, and French casualties had been substantial, however the Roman troops had also suffered losses, and the barricades defenses were starting to give way to the relentless French attack.
Alexandros continued to encourage his soldiers as best he could, seeing that they were beginning to falter. “Don’t give up! We’ve bloodied their noses! Just a little bit longer and they will be running home with their tail between their legs!!” Alexandros shouted as he waved his saber high.
Georgios was doing all he could to direct the defense of his area as well, attempting to relocate troops whenever a breakthrough looked to be imminent. The French army was also becoming demoralized and exhausted after the heavy casualties they had suffered throughout the battle. The battle looked like it would drag on for God knows how long, in as the fight continued, a stray shot from a random musket made a decisive strike…
“Keep fighting! It won’t be long now! We just have to fight on a little long-” Alexandros was cut off as a sharp pain shot through his chest. He felt himself fall backwards and to the side, falling from his horse and impacting the ground hard. Georgios quickly twisted his head around to see his Megas Domestikos fall to the ground, and immediately rode towards him. “Megas Domestikos!!” Georgios shouted as he watched him lay on the ground, struggling to move…
Oh no, the Megas Domestikos is fallen. The army will begin to retreat and i'm sure the French will be content to let them go. Then Georgios and his veterans will get to work, sending volley after volley into the obligingly massed frenchmen. It's Georgios' army now and it will avenge its fallen commander.
Last edited:
Blood soaked the ground from the brutal fighting. French, Greek, and Italian blood from both sides had soaked the ground, mixing with each other. Bodies littered the battlefield, the moans of the dieing being drowned by the sounds of clashing bayonet and gunshots and the screams of the men still fighting. Severed limbs, broken faces and shattered bodies covered the once green fields of grass, a cacophony of screams making it seem as if hell itself had opened to swallow this world we live in.
Around the Roman barricade this scene was taking place. And in the center of it lay the Megas Domestikos of the Roman Empire, wounded by a stray shot. Kneeling over him was Center Commander Georgios Curcuas. The bullet had pierced the breastplate that he wore, hitting him somewhere below the heart.
As he gasped for air, he could only gaze upwards as he tried to make sense out of what had just happened to him. The screams of his commander were going unheard as the world around him appeared surreal. He felt his body growing warm, he felt as if he wished to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.
“Megas Domestikos!” Georgios shouted as he grasped his shoulders, propping the man up against a nearby barrel. Georgios quickly pulled a leather flask of water from his waist and opened his mouth, pouring it down his throat. With a thick cough, most of the water came bubbling back up, mixed with blood, but the old soldier opened his eyes.
“Sir, can you hear me?” Georgios questioned desperately. Soldiers had begun to take notice of the situation, and if something wasn’t done soon, they could face a collapse in morale.
Megas Domestikos Alexandros Beliarious finally began to center his vision on Georgios as he regained his awareness. “Commander Curcuas? What is the situation?” He asked in a surprisingly calm tone.
“We are holding the line for now, sir. But when word of your condition reaches the men, I fear we might face a collapse of morale…” He said glumly.
“Then we mustn’t give them a chance to lose heart.” Alexandros replied, “I am wounded, but you are not. You must rally the army.” He finished, with an assertive nod.
“Me, sir? How am I to do such a thing?” He questioned, uncertain of his ability to turn the tide of the battle.
Alexandros gripped his saber, lifting it to Georgios, “Take it. Use it to lead our army to victory.” Alexandros smirked slightly, “That is an order, General Curcuas.”
Georgios was speechless, such a huge burden had just been dropped on his shoulders. Looking out over the raging battle, he slowly stood, giving one last nod of acknowledgement to the Megas Domestikos.
“As you wish, sir…” He said, making his way back towards his horse with all due haste.
Gripping the reins of his horse, Georgios closed his eyes, putting his uncertainties to rest as he kicked his steed slightly, ushering it onwards.
Riding forward into the fight, he swung his saber high, for all, including the enemy, to see as he put himself directly in the path of danger.
“Don’t let up!!” Georgios shouted above the chaos of battle, “You must fight on, not just for Constantinople, but for your brothers, the ones fighting beside you! If you don’t fight with all your heart, it will be they who suffer!! Fight for your comrades in arms, fight to preserve each others lives, fight so that we may remember this day together in our old age! This is our family, and we must not allow these French bastards to destroy it!!” He continued to scream to the men, his voice reaching them over all the carnage that surrounded them.
As the soldiers looked upon him, they were emboldened…he rode directly in the line of fire, not just of the enemy, but of his own men. Yet somehow, it was like the bullets refused to touch him. The men of the Imperial army, upon hearing his words, and seeing his bravery and tenacity in the face of danger felt their hearts grow stronger by ten fold. Their fighting spirits had been renewed, and they began to forcibly push the French army back across the barricade, fighting ferociously with every breath they drew.
“Push! Push them all the way down to hell of you must, but don’t let them cross this barricade! This barricade was made with the sweat, blood and tears of our fallen comrades, and it shall not fall! They shall not set one foot behind its walls! So push them back to the land they came from, push them so hard that they will never wish to even think of this place, ever again!!” Georgios continued shouting, swinging his saber high into the air. The French casualties continued to mount at an ever increasing rate with the growing Roman morale, and the French troops were beginning to falter.
Finally, one last push by the 19th, under Captain Adrianos proved to be decisive, rupturing the French offensive at its heart. Once one section began its retreat, the rest soon followed, flooding down the hill in a powerful torrent of terrified soldiers.
Tripping over the bodies of their fallen comrades, many French soldiers where trampled to death by their own retreating allies. Georgios quickly ordered his men to hold their ground and fire upon the retreating Frenchmen, to guarantee there was no rally. Cheers erupted from all throughout the barricade even as shots continued to rain.
Looking onward from the distance was Marshall Francois de Neufville. He saw his army, the same army that had driven the Greeks out of France and pushed so deep into Italy shattered and retreating in a disorderly mass.
“Despite all of my successes, and despite all of my planning, I still lost…why? Why must France continue to suffer this humiliation at the hands of her enemies?” He asked, looking to the sky for answers.
His thoughts were broken as one of his officers gripped his shoulder slightly, “Sir? Your orders?” he questioned him. Francois lowered his head slightly in momentary thought, “We will retreat back to Northern Italy and make our stand there. We still occupy their land, so the advantage overall is still with us. We must not allow them to step upon French soil once more!” He stated strongly as he and his men turned to ride towards the Tuscany. His army had been defeated, and his losses were high…but so where the Romans. He would regroup, and he would make them pay for this humiliation.
As the French army retreated into the horizon, soldiers began removing their hats and waving them in the sky as triumphant cheers completely replaced the firing of guns. Most men there could not believe it. They had won, finally.
The battle felt like it would never end, but they had finally won. Soldiers exchanged brotherly embraces as the battle came to a close. Georgios rode through the ranks of the army waving his saber in victory, but his joy was broken when he remembered why he was in that position in the first place.
Quickly racing to the Megas Domestikos, he, to his surprise found him standing, albeit clutching the wound on his chest, as a doctor helped to escort him inside the medical tent. Quickly dismounting and rushing to his side, he saluted sharply.
“Sir, Comm-err…General Curcuas reporting that the battle has ended. The enemy are in full retreat. What are your orders, sir?” He questioned, observing his condition carefully.
“Celebrate…those are my orders.” Alexandros replied with a slight smile. “Don’t worry about me, General. It will take far more than a simple gunshot wound to bring me down for good. That reminds me, we’ll have to hold an official promotion for you, later. But for now, go out and join your men. You have earned it. You all have.” He finished, as the doctor continued to escort him towards the tent.
Georgios could still hardly believe what had transpired in the past hour. He had been promoted, and a possibly catastrophic situation had been reversed. Despite their high casualties, the men of the Imperial Army where happy to just be alive with their surviving comrades. Mourning would come later.
As Georgios gazed into the sky, he couldn’t help but find himself thinking of a day when this damndable war might be over. When he might be able to return to his home, and be at peace. “It is hard to imagine there ever being such a day…” He muttered to himself quietly.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Battle of Parma was the last major battle of 1707, ending in a Decisive Roman Victory that halted the French advance into Italy. Casualties had been high on both sides, with some 10,000 Roman losses, and over 20,000 French losses.
Though the French had been stopped at Parma, they had managed to successfully retreat towards Northern Italy un-harassed. Though the Battle for Parma had ended in victory for Constantinople, the Battle for Italy was far from over…
Around the Roman barricade this scene was taking place. And in the center of it lay the Megas Domestikos of the Roman Empire, wounded by a stray shot. Kneeling over him was Center Commander Georgios Curcuas. The bullet had pierced the breastplate that he wore, hitting him somewhere below the heart.
As he gasped for air, he could only gaze upwards as he tried to make sense out of what had just happened to him. The screams of his commander were going unheard as the world around him appeared surreal. He felt his body growing warm, he felt as if he wished to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.
“Megas Domestikos!” Georgios shouted as he grasped his shoulders, propping the man up against a nearby barrel. Georgios quickly pulled a leather flask of water from his waist and opened his mouth, pouring it down his throat. With a thick cough, most of the water came bubbling back up, mixed with blood, but the old soldier opened his eyes.
“Sir, can you hear me?” Georgios questioned desperately. Soldiers had begun to take notice of the situation, and if something wasn’t done soon, they could face a collapse in morale.
Megas Domestikos Alexandros Beliarious finally began to center his vision on Georgios as he regained his awareness. “Commander Curcuas? What is the situation?” He asked in a surprisingly calm tone.
“We are holding the line for now, sir. But when word of your condition reaches the men, I fear we might face a collapse of morale…” He said glumly.
“Then we mustn’t give them a chance to lose heart.” Alexandros replied, “I am wounded, but you are not. You must rally the army.” He finished, with an assertive nod.
“Me, sir? How am I to do such a thing?” He questioned, uncertain of his ability to turn the tide of the battle.
Alexandros gripped his saber, lifting it to Georgios, “Take it. Use it to lead our army to victory.” Alexandros smirked slightly, “That is an order, General Curcuas.”
Georgios was speechless, such a huge burden had just been dropped on his shoulders. Looking out over the raging battle, he slowly stood, giving one last nod of acknowledgement to the Megas Domestikos.
“As you wish, sir…” He said, making his way back towards his horse with all due haste.
Gripping the reins of his horse, Georgios closed his eyes, putting his uncertainties to rest as he kicked his steed slightly, ushering it onwards.
Riding forward into the fight, he swung his saber high, for all, including the enemy, to see as he put himself directly in the path of danger.
“Don’t let up!!” Georgios shouted above the chaos of battle, “You must fight on, not just for Constantinople, but for your brothers, the ones fighting beside you! If you don’t fight with all your heart, it will be they who suffer!! Fight for your comrades in arms, fight to preserve each others lives, fight so that we may remember this day together in our old age! This is our family, and we must not allow these French bastards to destroy it!!” He continued to scream to the men, his voice reaching them over all the carnage that surrounded them.
As the soldiers looked upon him, they were emboldened…he rode directly in the line of fire, not just of the enemy, but of his own men. Yet somehow, it was like the bullets refused to touch him. The men of the Imperial army, upon hearing his words, and seeing his bravery and tenacity in the face of danger felt their hearts grow stronger by ten fold. Their fighting spirits had been renewed, and they began to forcibly push the French army back across the barricade, fighting ferociously with every breath they drew.
“Push! Push them all the way down to hell of you must, but don’t let them cross this barricade! This barricade was made with the sweat, blood and tears of our fallen comrades, and it shall not fall! They shall not set one foot behind its walls! So push them back to the land they came from, push them so hard that they will never wish to even think of this place, ever again!!” Georgios continued shouting, swinging his saber high into the air. The French casualties continued to mount at an ever increasing rate with the growing Roman morale, and the French troops were beginning to falter.
Finally, one last push by the 19th, under Captain Adrianos proved to be decisive, rupturing the French offensive at its heart. Once one section began its retreat, the rest soon followed, flooding down the hill in a powerful torrent of terrified soldiers.
Tripping over the bodies of their fallen comrades, many French soldiers where trampled to death by their own retreating allies. Georgios quickly ordered his men to hold their ground and fire upon the retreating Frenchmen, to guarantee there was no rally. Cheers erupted from all throughout the barricade even as shots continued to rain.
Looking onward from the distance was Marshall Francois de Neufville. He saw his army, the same army that had driven the Greeks out of France and pushed so deep into Italy shattered and retreating in a disorderly mass.
“Despite all of my successes, and despite all of my planning, I still lost…why? Why must France continue to suffer this humiliation at the hands of her enemies?” He asked, looking to the sky for answers.
His thoughts were broken as one of his officers gripped his shoulder slightly, “Sir? Your orders?” he questioned him. Francois lowered his head slightly in momentary thought, “We will retreat back to Northern Italy and make our stand there. We still occupy their land, so the advantage overall is still with us. We must not allow them to step upon French soil once more!” He stated strongly as he and his men turned to ride towards the Tuscany. His army had been defeated, and his losses were high…but so where the Romans. He would regroup, and he would make them pay for this humiliation.
As the French army retreated into the horizon, soldiers began removing their hats and waving them in the sky as triumphant cheers completely replaced the firing of guns. Most men there could not believe it. They had won, finally.
The battle felt like it would never end, but they had finally won. Soldiers exchanged brotherly embraces as the battle came to a close. Georgios rode through the ranks of the army waving his saber in victory, but his joy was broken when he remembered why he was in that position in the first place.
Quickly racing to the Megas Domestikos, he, to his surprise found him standing, albeit clutching the wound on his chest, as a doctor helped to escort him inside the medical tent. Quickly dismounting and rushing to his side, he saluted sharply.
“Sir, Comm-err…General Curcuas reporting that the battle has ended. The enemy are in full retreat. What are your orders, sir?” He questioned, observing his condition carefully.
“Celebrate…those are my orders.” Alexandros replied with a slight smile. “Don’t worry about me, General. It will take far more than a simple gunshot wound to bring me down for good. That reminds me, we’ll have to hold an official promotion for you, later. But for now, go out and join your men. You have earned it. You all have.” He finished, as the doctor continued to escort him towards the tent.
Georgios could still hardly believe what had transpired in the past hour. He had been promoted, and a possibly catastrophic situation had been reversed. Despite their high casualties, the men of the Imperial Army where happy to just be alive with their surviving comrades. Mourning would come later.
As Georgios gazed into the sky, he couldn’t help but find himself thinking of a day when this damndable war might be over. When he might be able to return to his home, and be at peace. “It is hard to imagine there ever being such a day…” He muttered to himself quietly.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Battle of Parma was the last major battle of 1707, ending in a Decisive Roman Victory that halted the French advance into Italy. Casualties had been high on both sides, with some 10,000 Roman losses, and over 20,000 French losses.
Though the French had been stopped at Parma, they had managed to successfully retreat towards Northern Italy un-harassed. Though the Battle for Parma had ended in victory for Constantinople, the Battle for Italy was far from over…
Wow. Georgios gives a pretty good speech when he wants to! As you say, a decisive victory for the Empire and very well described too!
They need to get back into France before... I am so excited to see where this leaves our good friend Georgios!
A victory outside Parma. Splendidly done. Now just lberate Parma and the other northern italian cities and the army can fight in France once more. The French are going to be back with an even bigger army
General Georgios Curcuas will be there waiting for them. The Megas Domestikos will be busy cooking up a little surprise or two for the French. I look forward to the next exciting installment, even if the Imperials do seem to be suffering from war exhaustion.
General Georgios Curcuas will be there waiting for them. The Megas Domestikos will be busy cooking up a little surprise or two for the French. I look forward to the next exciting installment, even if the Imperials do seem to be suffering from war exhaustion.