The "Battle"of Moy

OOC-Although the words put into the mouths of the carecters are imaginary, the event described really did happen in real life!

IC-The boy stood on his tiptoes and peered into the room, ducking down whenever somebody looked in his direction. Inside Lord Loudon sat with his officers, all of them wearing large epaulettes and plenty of gold braid. Loudon was old and plump, his teeth bad from too many sweets. Despite the ache he had a smile on his face. “Gentlemen, a short time ago a spy gave me the information to end this dammable rebellion against the King once and for all. Prince Charles is spending a night at Moy Hall away from his Highlanders. I will take a thousand men and surround the place and capture him.”

“With respect ,my lord,” said one of his captains, a veteran with an old bayonet scar on his face, “a thousand men are not needed. A small raiding party of twenty would be enough to overpower the Prince’s bodyguards and capture him. I suggest restraint.” “Captain, I am an old man. I no longer wish to risk myself in battle, nor do I want any chance he could escape.” “You do not need to come, my lord. The weather is freezing cold, and…” “But I do want to come. There is a thirty thousand pound reward on the Prince’s head, and I mean to be the one who claims it. And I will go down in history as the man who captured the Prince. I want that honor.” The boy had heard enough and ran away to warn the Prince.

It took a while for Lord Loudon’s officers to enforce his orders, and for the men to drag themselves from their beds and fireplaces and come out, swearing and grumbling, into the cold. Their black hats and scarlet coats were soon covered with snow as they stood on parade in the moonlight. The same captain as before spoke to Loudon. “My lord, the men are angry and reluctant to come out at this time.” “They are soldiers, Captain. They will do their duty or I’ll have them flogged for disobeying my orders.” Then his voice rang out over the parade ground. “Soldiers of the British Army, tonight we are going out to capture the Prince who beat us at the battles of Prestonpans and Falkirk. Then he had an army, now he is almost alone at Moy Hall. When we have captured him and taken him to the Tower of London, I’ll give you all two weeks leave.” That brought a cheer. “Forward, march.” Slinging their muskets on their shoulders the army set off, unaware of the boy racing ahead of them.

When he reached Moy Hall he got his breath back, knocked on the door and poured out the news to Lady Moy. The Prince fled to the nearby woods whilst Lady Moy said to her servants “I want you to go out there and delay them in whatever way you can.” “But Lady, there are only six of us. What can we possibly do?” “They don’t know that. Make them think there are a lot more of you.” Shaking their heads the six took their muskets, which were meant as protection against burglars and highwaymen, and set off into the night. And they waited alone for Loudon’s huge army.

As soon as it came into sight they opened fire and were rewarded by a scream as one of their musket balls hit it’s target. Then they ran backwards and forwards, bellowing out orders at the tops of their voices to imaginary regiments. “We’ve got them now! Forward MacDonald’s! Onwards Cameron’s! Stewarts, cut their line of retreat off. Everybody, CHARGE!”

A soldier in Loudon’s army threw down his musket and fled, and then another and another. Before Loudon’s officers could do anything about it, whole platoons were breaking ranks, throwing away their muskets and running for their lives. Their officers shouted at them to stand firm, cursed them, threatened to shoot them, got in their way and were trampled into the mud. “What the hell is happening?,” snapped Loudon from the rear ranks. “They’ve run into the Prince’s army and will not stand and fight.” “How many men have they ran into?” “From the noise it sounds like the main army, estimated at thousands strong.” “Well, we can’t stay and fight with an army full of cowards. Trumpeters, sound the retreat. We’re going back to the barracks.” When the six heard the trumpet signals and saw the red ranks still in front of them turn and vanish into the darkness, they cheered and showered the departing men with insults and cries of “Go back to England!”

Behind them the soldiers left loads of muskets and bayonets, backpacks, water bottles, ammunition, even one of their silken battle banners, which soon found their way to the real Highland army which was camped a few miles away. The Prince got a cold but recovered to see his hopes perish at Culloden. The news of how six men defeated a thousand first reached the Highland army, then Scotland and then the rest of the United Kingdom,and soon spread to Europe too. Lord Loudon did go down in history, as a fool and a laughing stock who could not defeat a handful of men even with an entire army, and for years he was ashamed to show his face in public.


OOC 2-As with all my stories,feel free to tell me what you think of it if you want to.I allways enjoy reading what others think.