Elegy for Francis, Duke of Dukes | An Alternate History

Skirmish at Aachen

PENULTIMATE STANZA, VERSE V

The invasion landed in Dover, splitting up to encircle London and other cities. Most sieges, including that of the former capital, resulted in Spanish victory while the government in Birmingham rallied forces in the north. On the continental front, Dutch revolutionaries faced significant hardship in repelling Imperial advances on territory held by their forces.

A major staging point for these assaults was Aachen, where the first kings of France and Germany were crowned. If any place was to uphold the integrity of the old ways, this was it. Thousands upon thousands of men gathered in that city, most of them Lutherans pressed into service.

While Francis focused on the naval theater of the war I helped fight against the Germans. My wife and I used her leverage in the court of Marseille to commandeer an expeditionary force with which we could flush out the enemy on all fronts. So up to the north I marched. I led a large body of cavalry to charge down every recruitment camp west of the Rhine.

Camp after camp fell before my men, until only Aachen remained. But something was wrong. Upon arriving in the city we found it to be abandoned, which contradicted all the intelligence I had received. An army consisting of mostly infantry was supposed to be training in that location. We approached the castle, fearful of an ambush. Our fears manifested into reality upon reaching a nearby castle, from which a hailstorm of bullets poured.

The gates opened to reveal a block of pikemen flanked by columns of musketeers. Behind them, dozens of cannons menaced in wait. Charging would be suicide, as would any other assault. "Retreat!" I called. Unlike Francis, I knew when to stop.