Another Head Rolls

 Fun Fact:

Braddock had gone down beneath French and Indian fire. Admiral Byng had fallen before a British firing squad. When the French attacked Fort Ontario, another head would roll.

 The Marquis de Montcalm--whose name would later be linked forever with James Wolfe, Quebec, and the Plains of Abraham--sailed from Fort Frontenac across Lake Ontario to Oswego and surrounded the British forts of Ontario, Pepperell, and George. Fort Ontario on the east bank of the Oswego River overlooked Fort Pepperell on the western bank and the small redoubt of Fort George farther to the west. Montcalm placed his guns and rolled for initiative. Winning the roll, he opened up on Fort Ontario on August 12, 1756. Lieutenant Colonel James Mercer did not appreciate Montcalm's arrival and felt he was not properly prepared to welcome visitors. He evacuated Fort Ontario and retreated. Montcalm did the inevitable, and placed his guns on the heights to send his greetings to the other two forts. Mercer finally decided it was time to use his head, but his saving throw versus artillery came up a critical failure, and he was beheaded by a cannonball. The remaining British officers held a quick council of war and voted against death by heavy flying objects to the head and elected to surrender. As a result, England lost access to Lake Ontario and much of New York. The new war with France was taking a heavy toll on British commanders.

Capitulation of Fort Oswego, Aug. 1756

John Henry Walker (1831-1899) - public domain

--Although the above information is available from many sources, and I've read them in other places, I've consulted my highlights from The French and Indian Wars: Deciding the Fate of North America by Walter R. Borneman for this fun fact episode. 

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On the writing front (Did I mention that I sold a short story? - Well, I did.) Book 6 of the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Series got some attention. I roughly outlined the final eight chapters and wrote a couple paragraphs on Saturday. Next week, I expect to complete the edits on another short story, get it submitted, and resume the exciting final chapters of Book 6, which remains untitled. I usually have a title before I start, or something leaps out at me during the writing process that demands to become the title, but that hasn't happened yet with this one. Perhaps when I re-read it, a heretofore unrecognized contender for the title will manifest itself amid angel voices and bursts of glory.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shooting Admirals

 Fun Fact:

General Braddock had the good sense to join the 500 corpses he left in the wilderness, so no action could be taken against him. Vice Admiral John Byng wasn't so fortunate.

The French looked in the Mediterranean for a soft target and found Minorca. They massed 15,000 men with siege artillery and the duc de Richelieu sailed with them from Toulon. Vice Admiral Byng at 52 years of age was tagged to take a hastily assembled fleet from Portsmouth to intercept the French. The French landed and laid siege to Fort Saint Philip. Byng's orders and those of the governor of Gibraltar, where he was supposed to get additional troops, were conflicting. That governor worried about an attack on Gibraltar. Byng had to choose between trying to save Minorca or risking Gibraltar--at a time when no war had been declared. He chose to risk a naval battle for Minorca with his ten ships of the line and two frigates. Galissoniere waited with twelve ships of the line, including Foudroyant, which could hurl more weight in a single broadside than any rival. 

Byng had a sound plan to advance in line obliquely toward the French line, turn in line and pound the French ships in passing. The captain of the lead ship, Defiance, misunderstood, leading his ships straight into the French broadsides. As a result, Byng found half his ships no longer fit for action by the time he got away. Byng could've attempted to land his troops, but his officers were unanimous in favoring a return to Gibraltar. Fort Saint Philip surrendered to the French a month later.

To celebrate the loss of the fort and the devastation to the fleet, the Royal Navy informed Byng, following a court-martial, that he would be the recipient of a 7 gun salute at close range with loaded muskets aboard the Monarch in Portsmouth harbor--he was not given the option to decline. 

On the bright side, Great Britain declared war on France, who returned the favor. 

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The writing on Book 6 is back on. Hugh, Lee, and the women have been in a tight spot, but have resolved that step in their adventure. Some characters are on a collision course--though they remain unaware of the fact, and Akram and the hunters have encountered the next link in the chain to realizing his goal--but there's a complication, and some uninvited guests endanger the entire enterprise. I enjoy the way these characters have developed over the course of the series. I should've finished this one back in June, but life and an irresitible impulse to write some short stories diverted my time and attention. In fact, I've just completed a round of edits on the recent story--which was a truckload of fun to write. I hope to submit it to the anthology next week.

Braddock's Defeat

 First -- Promise of Carnage and Flame is only 99 cents on Sep 11 and 12. After that, the price jumps back to $4.99 

A disturbing vision sends Alex and Lucette into action in the cause of liberty. The Americans are losing the war and a new power has risen to counter the efforts of Alex and Lucette. When Alex is forced to make a deal with the devil, neither Alex nor the cause may recover. Will he succeed in defeating his new nemesis, or will the American forces in the north be utterly destroyed?

One of the dragon hunters has a secret that may forever rend the alliances, friendships, and new relationships. None of that matters. The secret has driven this one across the sea to face risks unknown to most of mankind. Even the American cause cannot compare with the importance of this very personal mission.

These adventures and more await our friends who must put everything at risk for their ideals and obligations.

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Fun Fact:

After the treaty of Aix-la-chapelle, the English colonies in North America remained surrounded by French claims from the St. Lawrence to the the mouth of the Mississippi. Although France claimed a vast territory, it lacked a population in the New World to settle and hold it. From New Orleans to Acadia, the French population numbered around 75,000. By contrast, the English colonists numbered 1.1 million. 

While the French floated the rivers nailing metal markers to trees and burying lead plates to stake the French King's claims to the Ohio country, the English were increasing their stream of commerce with the Iroquois Empire, pushing its frontiers with commercial settlements. 

The French did build forts. On December 11, 1753, George Washington and his guide Christopher Gist, appeared at Fort Le Boeuf at the head of French Creek to deliver a message from Governor Dinwiddie informing the French that they were encroaching on English territory and were directed to withdraw. The French responded with a big "How 'bout Not," politely phrased as, "I do not think I am obliged to obey it," and sent Washington back the way he came.

As you might expect, relations did not improve. George Washington was sent back at the head of troops and Indian allies. They ambushed the French at Jumonville Glen (retold as I imagined it here in the prologue to Clamorous Harbingers, book 3 in the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Series), and on July 4, 1754, the same young officer was forced to surrender Fort Necessity to the French and retreat toward the Potomac.

Enter the tactless General Edward Braddock to lead the attack in an as-yet-undeclared war against the French. The British would make four thrusts against the French in North America. Braddock would lead one of those attacks, following Washington's trail to the forks of the Ohio to take the newly constructed Fort Duquesne. You may have heard about Braddock's expedition. Some have reported that it did not go well. I could describe the fort for you, but Braddock never got theat far, so I don't think I will. 

Although his force outnumbered the French and their Indian allies at the Battle of the Monongahela, or Braddock's defeat as it has been called, his troops were stretched out when they ran into the French van guard and at a distinct tactical disadvantage; he also had no Indian allies with him. Braddock exacerbated his disadvantage by ordering his main force forward as his advance troops were falling back into the same position--resulting in disorganization and confusion in both bodies. 

The French turned the two six-pounders, abandoned by Gage and the advance troops, against their former owners to supplement the musket fire from the surrounding woods. The muddled affair continued for two hours. Braddock had five horses shot from beneath him before he proved he could catch lead as well as any equine and had to be taken to the rear, mortally wounded. 

The British troops made a tactical withdrawal in the form of a mad dash to the ford and across the river, leaving some 500 dead in their wake. The French and Indians combined suffered approximately 40 killed and 60 wounded. Braddock's three principal lieutenants, Washington, Gage, and Horatio Gates would all oppose one another in one way or another 20 years in the future. John Burgoyne, who criticized Braddock as unfit for his command, would also come to understand defeat in the American wilderness and the label of scapegoat.

In addition to the wagons, supplies, and munitions captured by the French at the event, were the plans for the other three thrusting attacks on the French. As one might expect, when the information reached Paris, fans and fecal matter collided. The war--which might arguably be called a world war--was on.

If I remember, next time I'll get to the fun and games of how the British, having lost a general and their clandestine war plans, decided to execute an admiral.

--Although the above information is available from many sources, and I've read them in other places, I've consulted my highlights from The French and Indian Wars: Deciding the Fate of North America by Walter R. Borneman, which I am currently enjoying immensely, for this fun fact episode. 

Jon Cronshaw

 Interview with Jon Cronshaw

Author of

The Wasteland Series, and more

 

Please tell me a little about your current work in progress.

I’m currently working on the follow-up to my fantasy novel, Dawn of Assassins. The first book followed a pair of thieves who are recruited by a master assassin. But they’re thieves, not killers.

Trial of Thieves is set a week after Dawn of Assassins and deals with the fallout of that story.

Where did you get the idea for this book or series?

It’s hard to say where ideas come from for stories because they usually stem from thousands of little ideas that come together.

The Dawn of Assassins series is set in the same world as The Ravenglass Chronicles. Where The Ravenglass Chronicles tells the story of a bratty princess’s journey to maturity, I wanted something a bit grittier, a bit more down to earth.

Do you write in more than one genre?

I do! Though, for the sake of branding and marketing, it would be much easier to stick to just one. But the Muse doesn’t concern herself with little things like paying bills.

I have published five post-apocalyptic novels, two teen novels about disability, twenty-one fantasy novellas, and one fantasy novel.

If the Muse plays along, I need her to keep me focused on the fantasy as I think we’ve all had enough of potential apocalyptic scenarios recently.

Tell me about something that you believe makes your writing unique or worthy of attention.

Quite a few readers have told me they love the depth of my characters and enjoy how I twist expectations.

Is there anything about your personal history or personality that manifests strongly in your writing?

I grew up on a deprived council estate in Wolverhampton, England. It taught me to be tough and scrappy and to size people up very quickly. Being in that environment meant I saw things and met people kids should avoid—criminals, drug addicts, etc. And it’s given me the view that people aren’t all good, or all bad. Some bad people are kind. And some people’s good intentions can have unforeseen results.

When I write about those characters in my work, I try to do it from a place of understanding and empathy, but also one of real experience.

What else would be helpful for readers to know about you?

I’m severely visually impaired and am legally blind. This does mean I get to have an awesome guide dog called Digit.

Excluding your own work, what underrated author or book would you recommend that more people read? Why?

Does Gene Wolfe’s Book of the New Sun count as underrated? I love this series and have read it several times. Because of its opaque style, it’s a series that rewards careful reading. It’s like a puzzle that needs to be solved.

Which of your books do you most highly recommend? Why?

Dawn of Assassins is a good place to start. Several readers have emailed me telling me how much they love the banter between Fedor and Lev.

Which break, event, decision, or fortuitous circumstance has helped you or your writing career the most?

In 2016, I attended an Avron writing workshop focused on fantasy and sci-fi. I came away feeling motivated, but also crushed. My writing sucked back then and the feedback from one of the tutors was hard to take. But it was the best thing I did to level up my craft.

What question do you wish you would get asked more often?

How, with your amazing writing, rapier wit, and boyish good looks do you still remain humble?

Do you have a catch-phrase or quote that you like? What is it? And why do you choose it?

“If you don’t risk anything, you risk everything.” It’s the catchphrase of Rob Moore who presents the Disruptive Entrepreneur podcast.

It’s a phrase that’s stuck with me and one I try to live by.

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Thanks to Jon for participating.

My own writing hit a hard pause near the end of the week. I've been working on a short story, but a wee bit of the plague struck me. Though she was but little, she was fierce. I believe I've hacked my way through the catacombs of flu and cold despair to reach the light beyond, but still bear the scars of the ordeal in the form of a runny nose, cough, and those sorts of issues. It was on Friday night that we wrestled from the depths to the heights and I smote the disease's ruin on the mountainside, breaking the fever like the pillars of the Temple of Dagon, but it's a long trek back to the plain of good feeling, or out from under the wreckage of the temple--depending on which of the ill-mixed metaphors you prefer. I prefer my metaphor's ill-mixed, not stirred. For what is a metaphor if not the mixing and mingling of incongruent ingredients in a potent blend of potential nonsense in a hearty quaff to satisfy a deep and dusty yearn?

I shouldn't try to wax philosophical while I'm still in the wilderness of lingering aftermath.