Raid on Albany

Lt. Elphinstone peered through his telescope, intently surveying the mist that moved and undulated on the lake.  "Take me for a fool, but I would swear that I saw movement within the mist" he said, to no one in particular.  The lieutenant's lackey, seeing no one else around decided the comment must have been for his ears and took the opportunity to say, "No one would take you for a fool Sir.  A fine English gentleman such as yourself...".  "Shut up!" snarled Elphinstone, snapping his telescope shut with a start.  "I knew it; sound the alarm.  The lake is full of canoes and Indians.  Fly Patsy you silly oaf, we are under attack!"  And so began the great raid of 1752.

An assortment of water craft quickly land and disembark the war parties.

Provincial forces are soon drawn up and the blockhouse manned.

The natives move quickly, with murder, mayhem and plunder
on their minds.

One half of the table as the native prepare a simultaneous advance.

To make matters worse, long columns of French regulars leave the woods.

Others parallel the lake and pass through a village friendly to the English.

Gage's lights and Roger's Rangers respond on the French/Indian left.

The provincials carefully prepare before advancing.

Meanwhile a relentless tide of French continue to close.

A few light cannons accompany the French forces.

Part of the native contingent move right, seeking easy victories
amongst the farmers.

Others take on the provincials frontally.

Seems to be an ever growing number of Englishmen.

And now British regulars appear, soon facing the French lines.

Warriors in a very bad way.

Um, who are those guys in the back?  Never mind, save
your homes!

The French infantry are almost upon their erstwhile foes.

Canadian malice screen the advancing forces to prevent surprises.

The lines are drawn.  "Make ready"  "En jou!"  Who will fire first?

Uh, we will.  See "me" and my joker which will allow us to reverse
any unfortunate turn of a firing card.

The natives usually rely on their open formations to minimize
casualties.  This did not work today.

Open order Englishmen advance on the right, driving in the natives.

Buildings begin to burn and the flames spread down the dry wooden
fences.  The milice flank the grenadiers.

In the center the English are being driven back.

On the right the natives have largely been negated as a fighting force.

 

The milice jeer as the remnants of the Rangers flee.

French grenadiers begin to consider forming an assault column
to hit the blockhouse as the redcoats withdraw.

Despite some reverses on the far left things are going very well for
les francaise.

Victorious provincials find the river bridge is blocked.

Mercy filled my heart and we beat the Parley.  We would allow the troops to withdraw from the blockhouses and civilians from their homes if the English would withdraw.  They agree and even as they march off the field homes and fortifications began to burn.  Loses had been high among the natives and they might not feel as inclined to accompany us on the next raid.


Friends gathered at the home of Bill Protz for the game and happy birthday wishes.  Rules were BAR (Batailles de Ancien Regime), miniatures were mostly 28mm with the usual beautiful buildings and terrain.  Huzzah and vive le Roi!