Éirí Amach: Irish Rising (Ireland AAR) [updated: February 22, 2015]

[McScottish]

Fantastic stuff there; my only bone of contention is the sort of 'romantic' way in which Scots et al are used as cannon-fodder, while the evil English hold back. Reminds me too much of Braveheart and The Patriot- both films I really despise, at least in the way they portray a people who are at least half of me. Nevertheless, I can let that slide, the writing and matching screenshots are fantastic and I must say that the story is progressing pretty nicely too.

[Alwyn]

Thank you, Merchant of Venice! I enjoyed both playing and writing about this battle, it's good to hear that you liked reading about it.

McScottish, thank you and you're right, I made the mistake of using a Braveheart-style depiction of the English enemy (while I haven't seen The Patriot; I can easily imagine the kind of one-dimensional, 'gratuitous villainy' portrayal that you mean). I've removed the offending sentence from the paragraph starting "In the centre..." in Chapter Eleven. In case anyone is curious about it, the original version of that paragraph is in the spoiler below; the sentence which has been removed starts "It did not escape our notice..."

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

In the centre, our furious volleys had silenced the enemy cannon and driven back General Churchill’s elite maritime regiment. On our right, our two volunteer regiments had finally sent the tough Scottish regiment running. It did not escape our notice that General Churchill had sent his Scottish soldiers and Irishmen (who had joined the maritime regiment) to the front line, to do the bulk of the killing and dying, while his English soldiers remained behind. We had lost many of our soldiers, but the enemy had seen their entire first line break and run. And more would follow. Our army formed one cohesive line. Without General Churchill to organise the English regiments, our line could advance and break one English regiment after another.

[McScottish]

It's quite alright, Alwyn, I did not mean for you to go changing things, honestly; I can also imagine that this is exactly what a rebellious Irishman and his companions would like to see I.E. The tyrannical English sending in their cannon-fodder Gaels to soak up the death, while the maniacal puppet-masters stand about and chuckle heinously.

In fact it has been both the Scots and the 'English' (for this includes Lowland Scots) that had- and some could say have -kept the people of Eire in check since Cromwell decided to put his two pence in. Even before that the Normans did the same thing and, if you believe recent diggings, even the Romans before them!

I apologise if I seemed genuinley offended, as I wasn't, but I like my history.

[PhilipO'Hayda]

In fact it has been both the Scots and the 'English' (for this includes Lowland Scots) that had- and some could say have -kept the people of Eire in check since Cromwell decided to put his two pence in. Even before that the Normans did the same thing and, if you believe recent diggings, even the Romans before them!

what are you on about??

I apologise if I seemed genuinley offended, as I wasn't, but I like my history.

how about you just stay on topic.

[McScottish]

what are you on about??

how about you just stay on topic.

You can't ask me what I'm on about, then ask me to stay on topic. One or the other.

As I like Alwyn, and don't want to hijack the thread any more than I already have, I'll go for the latter option then.

Keep it up Alwyn, exceptional work, and I look forward to seeing more!

[Alwyn]

Chapter Twelve

“That’s impossible! We warned the Duke of Marlborough that the Irish army was planning an ambush near Lisburn. The Duke’s army should have broken through.” Kelly’s bitter disappointment was obvious. He had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of the army in Dublin and the restoration of the King in Ireland. He had looked forward to being on the winning side.

“It’s true, sir” replied Dempsey.”The remnant of the Duke’s army is falling back to the port of Belfast, to their ships. If the Irish army find the messages that we sent to the Duke, then they might find a way to identify us.”

“Only if they can break the code before the man we sent finds the Duke’s papers and retrieves them for us.” Kelly walked to the window and leant on the sill dejectedly, seeing nothing of the view outside.

“Is there no way we can restore the monarchy now, then, sir?”

Kelly pulled himself from his despondency to consider the question, and realised there was still a chance of success.

“There is more than one way to defeat this republican government in Ireland,” he said. “England can send all the armies they like; the more they try to force Ireland under their heel, the more Irish rebels will fight back. We need to break the spirit of the republicans. If the Irish people lose faith in the republic – if the republicans see their support slipping away – then perhaps another English army won’t be needed. Think of what happened in England after their Civil War.”

“What do you mean?” asked Dempsey.

“When the English monarchy was restored in 1660, it didn’t take a royalist uprising. Well, the royalists tried an uprising in 1659, but it failed. The English republic fell apart from within after Oliver Cromwell died.”

“There’s a clear lesson there” said Dempsey. “If we end the life of Ireland’s president –“

“Not the president - it’s the Taoiseach who has the real power. Without the first minister, the republican government would be in chaos. But we need to prepare the ground first. Look at this –“

“That’s the new government newspaper, the Dublin Gazette.”

“Exactly – it’s the government newspaper and everyone knows it. Look at this letter, Dempsey”

Dempsey read the letter, pausing to read the part which particularly excited his interest, “May God put it in your royal heart to add greater strength and lustre to your crown, by a still more comprehensive Union."

“Do you see, Dempsey? This letter is addressed to Queen Anne in London. It was written by prominent but unnamed Irishmen who don’t support the republic – or, at least, that is what it will look like. This letter shows that there are many in Ireland who long for the stability and security that the restoration of the King would bring.”

*****

After hours of trying, without success, to crack the code, I put aside the Duke of Marlborough’s papers for a while. I could hear several friends – those who had survived the battle – continuing their celebrations in the tavern’s bar downstairs. I was tempted to join them - for a moment, I considered leaving the little lodging-room in which I had been working and going downstairs to the bar, for ale and conversation. “Not now - perhaps later” I said out loud, even though I was alone. Needing a distraction, I turned to the front page of the Dublin Gazette, Ireland’s new daily journal. What I saw worried me. The newspaper reported that, in London and Edinburgh, the parliaments of the two nations had each passed an Act of Union. England and Scotland had been ruled by the same monarch for just over a century. But now, in place of England and Scotland, there was a single nation: Britain.

Surely our friends in Scotland would have had done their best to persuade the Scottish Parliament not to agree to the Articles of Union - and not to pass the Bill to implement them. But our friends had failed.



The newspaper identified James Douglas, the Duke of Queensberry, as the man who persuaded the Scottish Parliament to commit themselves to union with England. For this success, the Duke of Queensberry was cheered by crowds as he went to Kensington Palace to receive the thanks of a grateful Queen Anne.

The Dublin Gazette also reported that a group of Irish traitors had written to Queen Anne in London. The letter had apparently been intended to be secret. But now everyone who read the newspaper would know how the traitors had begged Queen Anne to send another army to Ireland, to add Ireland to Britain. The traitors had written: “May God put it in your royal heart to add greater strength and lustre to your crown, by a still more comprehensive Union." Clearly the traitors had known that England and Scotland were going to unite.

How could Ireland survive against the power of this hostile new nation? The English – now the British – navy was still blocking our sea trade. Surely, the British government were raising a new army to send against us. If I could not crack the code, then the spies would continue to inform our enemies of our plans.

The pistol-shot startled me. The sound seemed to have come from just outside my lodging-room. I blew out the candle, so that the room would be in darkness, and tried to move silently and swiftly towards the corner where, against the wall, my musket was leaning – my musket which was not loaded, I suddenly recalled. The door opened.

To be continued...


[The image of the Articles of Union, which is in the public domain, came from here. The phrase “May God put it in your royal heart to add greater strength and lustre to your crown, by a still more comprehensive Union” was used by Ireland’s Parliament at this time, in a congratulatory address to Queen Anne on the Union between England and Scotland.]

[Merchant of Venice]

Another good chapter, I liked the use of the image in it as well. Keep up the good work.

[Scottish King]

Great AAR you have here. I've been tempted to play as Ireland. Will be eagerly following.

[PhilipO'Hayda]

rather this one

[Alwyn]

Thank you, McScottish, Merchant of Venice, Scottish King and Philip O'Hayda. Merchant of Venice, I made a couple of small edits to early chapters, taking your advice to give readers a bit more information about who is speaking (or who they are speaking to). Philip O'Hayda, that's an impressive document; based on the names, I think it's from the Easter Rising of 1916, is that right?

[PhilipO'Hayda]

the 1916 rising one is this one, the other one is the 1966 one.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

http://www.irishtimes.com/opinion/re...ords-1.2010773

I like the 1966 a little more, but there was money and time put in to it, unlike the 1916.

[IneptCmdr]

Finally had the chance to read through the whole thing. Great stuff, very engaging. The struggle of a smaller faction lends itself well to a character-driven story. I look forward to the next chapter.

Like Merchant, I found the narrative a bit confusing in the beginning, but you seem to have adressed that nicely. One suggestion would be to disable the flags in battles to make the already great screenshots more immersive.

[Alwyn]

Thank you, IneptCmdr! I'm going to take your advice about using a 'no flags' mod. (I tried using p.jakub88's 'no floating flags' mod - it removed the flagpoles but not the big flags. I actually like this effect because it will be possible to take close-up pictures of soldiers without a big flagpole in the background - while, for long-distance shots, it will still be be possible to see which unit belongs to which side. My guess is that the AUM graphics pack, which mods flags, is causing the big flags to appear.)


Chapter Thirteen

The door began to open. Whoever was arriving would be walking into a dark room. Perhaps I could surprise them as they entered. I picked up my musket – it could still be used as a club, after all – and readied myself.

Then the door opened wide, and I all but dropped my musket in relief.

Callum Mackinnon stood in the doorway, holding a pistol surrounded by wisps of smoke. Next to him, there was a body on the floor. Callum said “I didn’t like the way he was creeping up to your door with a knife in his hand. It didn’t seem polite, so I thought I’d teach him what happens to people who do that.”

I started dumbly at Callum for a moment while he inspected the body. Callum said “He’s dead.”

I had to ask. “How did you know that someone was creeping up to my door? Did you just happen to be on your way here?”

“Colonel MacDónaill asked me and some of my Scottish lads to keep an eye on you. He said that you’re looking at some papers which belonged to the enemy and that the enemy might want them back.”

“I’m just an ordinary soldier. How would the enemy know that I had the Duke of Marlborough’s papers?”

Callum looked slightly shifty. “Well, you see, Colonel MacDónaill might have spread the word a little bit. The fact that the enemy knew about the ambush at Lisburn worried him a lot.”

I fell back into my chair, feeling as if I had been punched in the stomach. “You mean, MacDónaill deliberately spread the news that I had the Duke of Marlborough’s papers? I could have been killed.”

“Oh, no, you couldn't. I said, we've been watching you, day and night. You were so absorbed in studying your papers that you didn’t even notice us.” He sighed. “I'm afraid the colonel will not be pleased with me, though.” He prodded the dead spy with his boot. “He told me we should take any spies alive, if we could. But, when I saw this lad, he had his knife out and a dangerous look in his eyes. I couldn’t risk letting him get any closer to you.”

To restore my equilibrium, I joined Callum for a cup of ale in a quieter corner of the bar, where a group of soldiers were still loudly celebrating our victory at Lisburn. With all of the noise, I didn’t see any harm in telling Callum about the difficulty I had been having, trying to crack the code in the Duke of Marlborough’s papers. Callum handed me a piece of paper he had found in the pocket of the man who had tried to kill me. This piece of paper bore a list of verses in the Bible. The three verses at the top of the list were crossed out. “Could this list be a clue to the code which you’re trying to crack?” asked Callum. “How can a list of Bible verses help?” I asked. I explained how I had tried moving the letters in the papers in the alphabet, so that A would become B, B would become C, and so on – without any success. Callum explained, “The Mackinnons and other Jacobite rebels in Scotland use codes. First, we used the kind of cipher which you described – but the English army broke that easily. So we started using a cipher invented by an Italian, Giovan Battista Bellaso, more than a hundred years ago. Each letter moves a different number of places through the alphabet. You use a key phrase to tell you how many places each letter moves. These Bible verses could be the key phrases.”

“I see – and they use a different Bible verse to provide the key phrase for each month, or each week, maybe. That makes sense.”

In the relative quiet of my lodging room, Callum and I worked on the code. We tried the first Bible verse and the second, without success. I was almost ready to give up when we tried the third Bible verse and suddenly the message in one of the papers made sense. “At last!” I exclaimed.

We hurried at once, in great excitement, to report to Colonel MacDónaill, who invited Callum and me to attend a meeting of the senior officers the next day.

“Lieutenant Connolly, with the assistance of our friend from Scotland, has broken the code used by the enemy spies,” announced MacDónaill. The senior officers were shocked by the detailed information the spies had provided to the Duke of Marlborough. “So their general had detailed information about our numbers, our equipment, our training and our plans for the ambush at Lisburn,” observed one of the other colonels. “This must be the work of Irish traitors.”

“Aye,” said another officer. “And we thought we were being cautious when we made sure the only people given that kind of information were Irish-born. Seems we weren't cautious enough.”

MacDónaill asked whether the decoded messages contained clues about the identity of the traitors. “Their names aren’t here,” I explained “but we know where they are operating from. They are using a house in Dublin, which belongs to the British ambassador to Ireland, as the base for their spy network.” One of the officers suggested sending a company of cavalry to Dublin at once, to arrest the spies. “I agree that we should send soldiers to Dublin,” advised MacDónaill, “but they should keep watch on the house, not arrest the spies immediately. We should aim to capture as many of the spies as possible, not just those who happen to be in the house when our men get there.”

The general nodded. “I want all of them. Any we don't catch are a danger to our men.”

It was time for the senior officers to discuss the next move of Ireland’s army. I got up to leave the room, but MacDónaill told me to sit down. “Every colonel brings a junior officer to these meetings. Sometimes you can see things that we miss ... and, if the regiment’s commander is killed in battle, then at least one other officer should know the army’s plan.”

I expected the senior officers to discuss how we would defend ourselves against the next British army to land in Ireland. But, instead, they were talking about going on the offensive. As I listened to them talk, I realised the urgency of the situation. As the British navy had blockaded our ports, Ireland’s government would soon run out of money to pay the army. Meanwhile, the British government could raise troops faster than we could – and British ports were open, bringing huge wealth into their country.

It became clear that most of the senior officers wanted to land in Scotland, where we had friends, rather than in England. Callum Mackinnon, who had also been invited to stay, agreed, declaring proudly that the rebel Jacobite clans had already loosened the grip of the British government, and it would be no trouble for them to take over “if they had just one or two more men”. Since the British navy were running their blockade around the ports on Ireland’s south coast, fishing boats from Ireland and Scotland could carry our little army to the shores of Scotland. We would just have to hope that no British frigate arrived while we were at sea. On arriving in Scotland, our friends the Mackinnons would guide our army across the countryside to their destination.

The real problem, it emerged, was not the journey to Scotland. MacDónaill summed up the problem: “If we stay in Ireland, we have no chance against Britain. If we free Scotland, then we can win. To free Scotland we must take Edinburgh. To take Edinburgh, we must seize Edinburgh Castle. And as you know, we have no cannon to make a breach in the walls, so we must send our men to climb them.” He put a map of the castle on the table. “This attack will be very difficult without cannon. Edinburgh Castle is surrounded by steep cliffs on the southern, western and northern sides.”



“The eastern approach to the walls is, as you would expect, covered by plenty of the castle's own cannon. However, I believe Mr Mackinnon here may be able to help us.” He nodded at Callum Mackinnon, who explained that he could get men inside who would let down rope ladders, allowing our men to scale the cliffs and walls, and enter the castle. “There will still be hard fighting,” said Callum. “The British have sent Lord Berkeley's maritime regiment of foot to reinforce Edinburgh Castle. You saw at Lisburn how well the British marines fight.”

“Indeed we did,” replied Colonel MacDónaill. “But we must take Edinburgh to defeat the English. Besides, we fought pretty well at Lisburn ourselves.”

[The public domain image of Edinburgh Castle came from here. If you're curious about the code used in the Duke of Marlborough's papers, it was what is now called the Vigenère cipher, link (as that name for the cipher was introduced in the 19th century, I did not use it here.)]

[IneptCmdr]

Great update. I wonder if our protagonists will be able to fight through cannon and marines to take the castle. If not, I fear their cause might be in great jeopardy.

[Merchant of Venice]

I liked the idea of the bible verses being the key to the code. The siege of Edinburgh looks to be tricky but I wonder if they'll even make it to Edinburgh without any mishaps.

[flatline115]

Interesting chapter, I am waiting to see the result of Ireland's attempt at Edinburgh. Because if stopped there it could be a military disaster for the Irish. Hopefully they succeed and knock those snobby British Swine down a few pegs!

[Alwyn]

Thank you, IneptCmdr, Merchant of Venice and flatline115; your comments and those of everyone who has posted on this thread are kind and encouraging.

Chapter Fourteen

As the little fleet of fishing boats carried our small army across the sea to Scotland, I watched the horizon anxiously. If a British frigate came over the horizon now, our fight for freedom would be all over. When I stepped onto the shore and saw that no line of redcoats waited to oppose our landing, I smiled with relief. Instead of British soldiers, Charles Mackinnon waited to greet us as I followed Colonel MacDónaill off the boat.

Charles Mackinnon had good news, “The Jacobite clans have risen against the British. Inverness and Aberdeen are ours and we had men marching to Dundee, the last I heard. If you take Edinburgh Castle, Scotland will be free.” “Are you sure you can get men inside the castle?” inquired MacDónaill. “Our victory, and the lives of my men, will depend on their rope-ladders. We have to get inside the castle quickly and silence the cannon of the Half Moon Battery or this will be the last battle most of us ever see.” Charles Mackinnon nodded. “Aye, I’m sure. The Mackinnons won’t let you down.”

And so we marched, with Charles and Callum Mackinnon and their men to guide us. Our light cavalry rode ahead and to our flanks, keeping watch for any enemies. We were marching in winter. I think our generals believed that the British would not expect an attack in that season. Despite the winter’s chill, our spirits were high. We looked in awe at the grand snow-capped mountains and frosty countryside of the west of Scotland. Local people greeted us with friendly curiosity. We had no cannon to slow us down, so our whole army could maintain a pace that kept us warm, during each day's long march. The cold at night was fierce, sometimes, though. On the worst night, a man froze to death while keeping watch.

As we marched, Callum Mackinnon walked with me and the men of MacDónaill’s Volunteers. Callum told my men stories of the great gun, Mons Meg, at Edinburgh Castle. He told us that it was over fifteen feet long. He said that it could fire a huge 400-pound cannon-ball. He told us that when it fired a 400-pound cannon-ball, the cannon-ball could land two miles – two whole miles - from Mons Meg. As more and more details came out, we grew more and more despondent. I couldn’t believe that any cannon could fire a cannon-ball as heavy as that at all, never mind over such a distance, but Callum seemed sure of it. He said that this type of cannon was called a ‘murderer’. He had us really worried. We were going to have to face this terrifying thing.

Eventually, he explained that the gun’s barrel had burst over twenty years ago, when it was used to fire a salute. I think the men didn’t know whether to punch him for scaring us or thank him for the news that this terrible gun could not be fired. Of course, we knew Edinburgh Castle would have plenty of cannon which could be fired – and we knew that we would have to walk along the eastern approach to the castle, under those guns. We would have to rely on surprise – and darkness.

On Christmas Eve, before the dawn, we attacked the castle. As planned, our friends inside the castle let down rope ladders for our men approaching the castle from the east. My hands held tightly onto the rope as I climbed the wall, focusing only on following the man in front of me. At last, I joined my men on the wall’s top. We had to get our men up the wall and move on as quickly as we could. Beyond the wall was the way up to the Half Moon Battery, which towers high above the wall. The guns of the Half Moon Battery overlook the land approaching the castle on its eastern side. If the enemy could use the cannon of this battery, the Irish soldiers behind us would be walking to their deaths.

On a cold Christmas Eve morning, we had hoped that the British soldiers would be indoors, staying close to their fires and preferably asleep. It did not turn out as we had hoped. The British marines had men on watch. It didn’t take them long to see us. I saw marines run along the wall. The castle’s bell sounded a warning. “Damn that bell!” I whispered. I saw a soldier smile at my exasperation and suddenly recalled that, as an officer, I should lead. “Form up, boys, you know what to do!”

Have you ever seen British marines charge? It’s a sight to see. Soon our men were starting to fall back, as the elite British soldiers pushed us back towards the guns of the Half Moon Battery. I saw a few marines falling – but more of our men were dying in this unequal melee. We couldn’t take many steps back; there wasn’t far to go before we would have our backs to the wall’s edge.



At this dangerous moment, when our volunteer soldiers might have turned their backs, leading to disaster, our Revolutionary Guards – who had climbed the wall some distance from us – reached the far end of the Half Moon Battery. Now our elite soldiers could match theirs. Our guards were soon firing deadly volleys into the flank of the British marines.

The desperate hand-to-hand fighting of our volunteers, combined with the lethal volleys of our Revolutionary Guards, finally defeated the British marines. We had already lost many men – but so had they. We moved on, further into the castle. Only the dead remained at the Half Moon Battery.



But we had not won yet. More British soldiers were turning out of the Great Hall, which was their barracks, into the cold night. As we descended the steps from the castle walls, we could see the redcoats forming line in Crown Square, the castle’s main courtyard. They were obviously determined to give us a fierce reception. I saw them presenting their muskets as our volunteers ran to form line. I heard the man on my left cry out as he was hit.

MacDónaill had told me that an officer should look around, to see the whole situation. Success can quickly turn into defeat if officers don’t see a new threat early enough. Near-defeat can be turned into victory when an officer sees an opportunity which he might have missed. So, doing my best to ignore the noise, and to see through the smoke of the muskets, I assessed the situation. All around us, British and Irish soldiers were exchanging musket fire at close range. The British soldiers had the professional skill and we had the numbers. Before either of these evenly-matched forces would break, many of us would fall.

There had to be way to tilt the battle in our favour. There had to be something I was failing to see... My eyes fell upon the castle gate, shut and barred. ”Of course!” I exclaimed, “The cavalry!” A sergeant next to me looked around, as if expecting horsemen to appear. We had our light cavalry waiting outside for the castle gates to be opened; they had not yet joined the fight. Either none of our infantry had reached the gate, or – if they had - the British soldiers had taken it back. With MacDónaill‘s permission, I took a small group of men to the gate-house. Once it had been opened, our light cavalry poured in through the narrow gate, finally tipping the balance of the battle in our favour. The battle for Edinburgh Castle was won, but it did not feel like a victory. So many of us would never see another day.

By the time some of our Irish guerrillas occupied the building which the British used as their headquarters, the sun had risen. They looked out at a scene of utmost horror. Across Crown Square, the ground was thickly laden with the bodies of the fallen, British and Irish together.



So many men had died that no-one could bear to celebrate on Christmas Day. Instead, it was a time of quiet, sober reflection – no dancing or music. Men cursed the deaths of their friends, tended their wounds and huddled near the fires.

The following day, St Stephen’s Day, we marked the tradition of Lá an Dreoilín – the ‘hunting of the wren’. Men made straw hats or disguises and groups strolled from house to house. Now, the mood of the men was transformed. People played music, sang and danced. For a day, I didn’t think like an officer. I didn’t worry about tomorrow. Whatever tomorrow might bring, we would face it with greater confidence, knowing that Scotland and Ireland stood together. Our army had suffered terrible losses, but our Republic had a fighting chance.

[Note: Mons Meg was - and is - a real siege cannon. During the Jacobite rising of 1715, there was an attempt to capture Edinburgh Castle, involving men on the inside lowering a rope ladder, but the ladder was too short! Historically, the Earl of Pembroke's marine regiment (seen in a previous chapter at the Battle of Lisburn) and Lord Berkeley's regiment (in this chapter) existed from 1690 to 1696 (source). As events in this story diverge from our history from 1690 onwards (as explained in the prologue) and as I'm using a Historical Marines mod, I decided that in this version of history, the English army kept both regiments after 1696. If you'd like to know more about the St Stephen's Day tradition of the hunting of the wren: link]

[Scottish King]

Nice victory! I like the way u are mixing in elements of real history. Excellent job! With the Scots at your side you'll definitely have a better chance of taking on one of the most powerful nations on the planet at that time...

[PhilipO'Hayda]

I have alot of rebel songs that play off in my head as I go deeper in to your story, this one is "The Minstrel Boy" is an Irish patriotic song written by Thomas Moore (1779–1852) who set it to the melody of The Moreen, an old Irish air. It is widely believed that Moore composed the song in remembrance of a number of his friends, whom he met while studying at Trinity College, Dublin and who had participated in (and were killed during) the Irish Rebellion of 1798.

[McScottish]

Fine stuff, as usual.