Battle of Eggmühl, 22nd April 1809

Wargaming yesterday; delighted to welcome Goya and Stryker from Up North (or Further Up North, I suppose). Goya brought along an Austrian army (on the train - we are always at the leading edge of technical innovation here at Chateau Foy) and Stryker brought along Marshal Davout. Stryker and I were to command the French forces.

Our game was - unusually for me - one of the published scenarios from Commands & Colors: Napoleonics. This was No.312 - Eggmühl - Day 2 - French Left, which I think must be from Expansion 3 (the Austrian bit). One reason I am always hesitant about using other people's scenarios is because they are usually designed to give both sides a chance of winning, which is OK from a social aspect but sometimes dubious historically, and often (I have found) they give you a grinding match while one side waits for a lucky dice roll or a show-stopping card to give them an edge. I'm sure that GMT Games and their countless fans will not worry at all about my views, I hasten to add.

Anyway, we used the scenario, and it looked interesting, and in fact it gave us a nice game. A feature of the day was that we also used some experimental house tweaks to the rule system. I don't wish to say too much about these at present, since they are still under development, but they seemed promising.

Neither am I going to discuss the real (i.e. historical) battle, since it is well-known, and the portion of it we were playing, though it makes a decent standalone game, is a bit odd in isolation. I will, however, mention briefly the small matter of spelling. If you know better, or can give a better-informed view, please do pitch in here. The locals call the place Eggmühl - I have a locally-produced tourist souvenir of the battle, and there it is - Egg - as in Scrambled Egg. Not Eck, as in Prince of Eckmühl, or as in Bloomin' 'Eck. I assume that the proper German name must be Eckmühl - "the corner mill" (bend in the river Grosse Laabe?), and that the local Bavarian dialect says Egg. The French have always called it Eckmühl, of course, but their track record with German place names is not good anyway. [Ratisbonne? What's that?]

As usual, I'll attempt to fill in a narrative around the photos. In passing, I managed to get hold of some brighter bulbs for the over-table lighting (1200 lumen halogens, two of them, which are supposed to give the same light as old-money 150w jobs, but much less heat), so the photos may be a little brighter than in previous efforts.

As a spoiler, I have to tell you that the French lost [damn]. It wasn't a complete whitewash, but the field is very busy with villages and woods, and the Austrian line infantry, slow-moving and potentially brittle though they are, have 5-blocks-worth of musketry per battalion, and that is a very serious prospect all round. And, of course, Goya commanded his defence rather better than did Rosenberg in 1809. Our rules of the day stipulated 10 Victory Banners for the win, but the situation was sometimes quite difficult to follow, since there were temporary VBs available for possession of the villages, and the exact timing of when these counted was sufficiently complicated for me still to be unable to understand it this morning. I think the final score was about 10-7 to the Kaiserlichs, but I'll take advice on that. French did well enough, but couldn't keep up any kind of momentum in the face of the Austrian musketry.

By the way, if my account of the day shows a little French bias, I hope you will indulge me - the defeat is too recent and too painful. Like all military history, it may take some years for a truthful impartiality to creep into the narrative.

General view from behind the French right flank, at commencement. The French cavalry in
the foreground were always going to struggle to get some open ground to work in. Beyond them
are Von Deroy's shiny new Bavarians, then St Hilaire's Division, and at the far end Friant's boys.
The villages are, in order of proximity to the camera, Unterlaichling, Oberlaichling and
Obersanding, with various arrangements of VBs available for each.

View straight down the middle of the table at the same stage - note that the Bavarians
have some distance to advance across open farmland to attack the village and woods
in the centre.

Unterlaichling - first attack and the Bavarians took the place. A brief moment of glory -
subsequently the village and its neighbouring woods changed hands so many times I
lost count, though our lot never seemed to be in possession when it came time to tot up
the temporary VBs.

On the French left, Friant made a big push through the woods and towards Obersanding.
Heavy going. The dude on the right hand edge, on his own, is Davout, currently Duc
d'Auerstadt and, sadly, destined to remain so.

The problem - too many Hungarians in the Plastic Forest. You're sure of a
big surprise.

Erm - and suddenly the French had a lot less troops advancing on the left...

...and St Hilaire's division in the centre didn't fancy their chances much...

...and the Bavarians, though they are fleetingly back in Unterlaichling here, with some
French légère boys on their left, were running out of men and out of steam. 

Theme for the day - the French needed a bigger superiority in numbers to win the day.
Here they just don't have enough fresh troops left, and we are getting near the end.

After the official VB target was reached, we played on for a little while. I fiddled around
with some of the under-employed French cavalry on the right flank, which was fun but
enhanced neither the result nor the historic narrative. Faint shades of Borodino - some
cuirassiers capture an artillery position on the Bettelberg, but it makes no difference!

Senior Debutante - Battle of Santiago Martir 1809

Marshal Victor and his young men decide what to do first

At the end of last week and over the weekend we had a family visitor staying with us; my mother's half-sister, my aunt, in fact, who is 83 and lives in far-off Somerset.

To put this into context, she is a very tough egg indeed. She travels a lot, drives over to France to visit her brother a couple of times a year, and has destroyed all her former hill-walking colleagues, who have all given up trying to keep pace with her. She was on her way home from a tour of the Highlands - particularly castles and the battlefield at Culloden - and took the opportunity to visit us, and thus to visit my mother, who is in a local care home.

Recently, I sent my aunt some pictures of my miniature Battle of Marston Moor, and she was so fascinated that she asked if it would be possible to invite someone in while she was visiting, to put on another wargame, so she could witness it at first hand. Hmmm. I thought long and hard about this, being pretty certain that there would be a very short queue indeed of people volunteering to come out here simply to demonstrate a wargame for my elderly aunt. I decided the best thing to do would be to stage what would in effect be a collaborative solo game - she and I would play out a game together to see what happened. Saturday morning was pencilled in for the occasion.

I dreamed up a fictitious but credible action from Central Spain in Spring 1809, and we used a cut-down version of Commands & Colors:Napoleonics which I have used successfully in the past for very large games. Our game was sort of medium-sized. Everything went well - we had about half an hour's discussion of the situation and the rules, then the game played to a conclusion in just over 90 minutes. The French won easily, which is as it should be, and my aunt thinks that wargames are fantastic. Does anyone know of a more unlikely debutante at a wargame?

The battle takes place somewhere between Madrid and Cuenca. The initial Spanish defensive set-up was decided by a couple of dice rolls, to select from a variety of possibilities. There were a few surprising choices made as a result - choosing to set up in front of a river seemed questionable, but it gave us a nice vigorous game. The Spanish troops included a proportion of Milicias Provinciales, who were kept to the rear, and (because they are colourful and excellent fun on the battlefield, and they don't get out much) a force of guerrilleros led by the dodgy-looking Don Pedro de Gentusa.

The narrative, very briefly, is that General Cuesta has sent forward an advance guard under the Conde de Belvedere, to deny the French the crossing over the Rio Mezquino at Santiago Martir. There are a good bridge and a couple of fords; wagons and artillery cannot use the fords, so the French will save a lot of time if they can capture the bridge. Bonus Victory Points (VPs) are available to the French for possession of any part of the town, the bridge and for each ford. The French will not gain VPs for the elimination of any of the guerrillero units. 9 points wins the day.

The French are commanded by Marshal Victor, Duc de Belluno (or "General Perrin" as he is known here), and he has brought forward his own advance guard in attempt to secure the river crossing. Imagine his disappointment when he arrives and learns that Belvedere is already there...

Victor has the infantry divisions of Leval (Germans) and Sebastiani (French) from IV Corps, and some cavalry from the Reserve under La Tour-Mauburg. Belvedere has the divisions of Del Parque and Portago and a brigade of cavalry under Ramos de Silva, plus Gentusa's fragile irregulars.

Victor has 15000 infantry, 1000 cavalry and 16 guns; Belvedere has 10400 infantry, 1000 cavalry and 12 guns, plus about 1600 irregulars, whom he sticks behind his left flank, to help out if everything else collapses...

General view at the start, from behind French right flank. Note that Belvedere (far side of
the table) defended his right flank strongly (the river behind that right flank is unfordable!)
to keep the French away from the little town, and was persuaded by the initial dice rolls to place
 his left flank on the wrong side of the river (he explained that the idea was that he could retire
them over the fords if necessary...). The fords can be spotted as a rather lighter blue in the river,
beyond the little wood.

Same moment, this time from behind the Spanish right. The troops behind the ridge in the
foreground are the Provincial Militia regiments of Cordoba and Granada, who were kept pretty
much out of sight.

Looking along the Spanish line. The division commanders (just identifiable by the white
edging to the bases) were both wounded during the day. The river this side (downstream)
of the bridge is unfordable, so the troops on this flank are in an uncomfortable situation.  

Along the French line, from their left. The infantry on this side are Sebastiani's division,
Leval's Germans at the far end.

The Spanish centre - grenadiers in the town. The Walloon Guards and some of the best
of the line infantry on the far side of the road, in front of the fords. Victor decided that
a direct attack on the town would be costly...

...so he commenced a demonstration against the (stronger) Spanish right flank, to
discourage Belvedere from shifting any troops to support his left...

...where a major fire-fight commenced, which resulted in a big panic in the Spanish
army. The Walloon Guards were eliminated very quickly, General Del Parque was
wounded and captured, and the defenders on the Spanish left melted away.

At this point, the French only had to march forward; taking possession of the two fords would
be enough to get up to 9 VPs and win the day

Cometh the hour - nothing left on this flank but to send forward some of the guerrilleros,
to keep the French off the fords while reinforcements came from the town. They surprised
Leval's Confederation troops with the accuracy and weight of their musketry, but they didn't
last long...

...and Leval himself took one ford with the 2nd battalion of the 2nd Nassau. Just 1 VP
needed - get more infantry on the second ford (where are the light infantry when you need
them?). At this point Don Pedro himself brought up another unit of irregulars, but the game
ended suddenly...

...and it came in an unexpected way. The Lanceros de Carmona advanced to help delay the
French advance, but they took fire and, though they lost no men, they were forced to fall back.
On the French turn, the lancers took more fire, this time from the converged voltigeurs of Chassé's brigade
in the wood; again, they suffered no hits, but they did receive two "retreat flag" results. Without
support, and with no Leader present, they were obliged to retreat for both the flag rolls. Spanish
regulars have to retreat 2 hexes for each flag, and 1 hex movement forced the lanceros back into
the corner of the table - they couldn't cross the river at this point, so they had to take 3 loss counters
 in lieu of the extra retreat. The unit is only 3 "bases" strong, so 3 losses eliminated it. That was the 9th
VP - game over.

Here's a general view of the vanished Spanish left flank. Surmising beyond the technical end
of the game, the French now had the fords, and were able to cross the river, which would make
things very sticky indeed for the rest of the Spanish army. The boys in the town might make a
run for it over the bridge, or might fight on. Or, of course, they might surrender...

Here's the end of the game from another angle. The Spanish right flank, out of the picture to
 the left of the town, would now be cut off, and would mostly become prisoners, I think.
This photo gives us a rare glimpse of the Conde de Belvedere, with the yellow base-edging,
near the bridge, next to the beaker of red loss counters. We agreed that the Conde would have
a very fast horse (certainly it had been resting throughout the action), and he would be able to
go to report in person to Cuesta on what had happened to the advance guard. 

Donkey Award: Snake Sabres - a short digital digression

A few years ago, I saw mention of the fact that someone had developed a mod for a dice-rolling app on a smart-phone, so you could play Commands & Colors using your phone instead of Stone Age dice. Apart from a faint feeling of weary revulsion at the time, I did nothing more than make a mental note that the human species had achieved this further landmark in our technological evolution.

I was thinking idly about this the other day, and recalling that I had (luckily, perhaps?) never seen an example of this fine thing subsequently. I Googled, as one does, and found this thread on the user website, which seems once to have included a picture of the smartphone app doing its C&CN thing, but the picture has now gone missing.

Photograph missing - this is not the original missing photo, of course, it is another one

Well, it goes without saying, I don't actually care a button [perhaps "couldn't give a toss" would be more apt?], but this has piqued my interest again. My personal view is that the use of the actual, physical dice in the game (rather than an app) is a good thing, since

(1) it provides an element of much-needed exercise

(2) it gives a rare opportunity to switch the damned smartphone off and put it back in one's pocket, which is just the sort of reason we might play C&CN in the first place. [Even better, put the smartphone beneath the visitor's rear tyre, on the driveway.]

I am confident that some worthies will use this phone app and think that the game is all the better for it, and I can only say bless them, so I do not wish to mock or condemn anyone here, but if it was such a raging success, why can't I find a photo anywhere?

Anyone got a link to a picture of this app? If so, I'll be grateful and vaguely interested. If not, especially if this is because the whole idea was dropped as a stupid affectation, then I may even have a glass of the old Pinot Grigio with my dinner. How can I lose?

In a vague sort of way I am reminded of a walk I did along Hadrian's Wall six years ago, when one of my companions was in a sweat every evening trying to find somewhere to re-charge his iPhone, since he had a compass app on it. The idea of a flat phone battery resulting in our getting dangerously lost on a walk where you can either go east or west at any moment was too awful to contemplate, but fortunately I (secretly) had a small device in my pocket which used a magnetized steel pointer on a round dial to show the direction, so we were probably safe enough.

Oh yes - the title of this post is an insiders' joke term for the dice roll you need to kill a General in C&C. What fun we have, when you think about it. Since this post is a bit short of visuals, here is the house Donkey Award logo, to make the point.

Plancenoit - 18th June 1815

Yesterday was the appointed day for Plancenoit (one of a small, select number of actions/battles which were never recognised by the Duke of Wellington, on account of the number of Prussians involved). My van and I went over the Queensferry Crossing and travelled north (as we do), to give some of my French soldiers an outing.

Landwehr vs French lights - they typified the Prussian performance on the day
 - valiant but not very effective

A medium-sized game to Commands & Colors:Napoleonics rules - the scenario was borrowed straight from the C&CN user site. Interesting - very interesting - but a very tough challenge for the Prussians. I was the Prussian commander, so I'll try to get plenty of excuses in early - graciously, of course.

As I recall, at Real Plancenoit, the town changed hands repeatedly during the evening, the French called in more and more prestigious contingents of Imperial Guard, but were eventually overwhelmed. The Prussians thus appeared behind the French right flank on the main Waterloo battlefield, and the whole French army, which was already pretty much on its last legs, routed. [If you don't happen to agree with my quick summary of the history, please accept my admiration for your scholarship - I'm sure you're right. No need to put me straight.]

In our game, the Prussians obviously were going to have very severe problems getting the French out of the little town. After some initial thoughts about amending the scenario a little, we decided to stick with the one on the website, including the bonus Victory Banners available for possession of parts of the town. As Prussian commander, I had wild thoughts of ignoring the town - just demonstrating against it - and trying to mop up enough of the French troops elsewhere to scrape victory - if they shifted anyone to support their (left) flank then an assault on the town might make more sense. However, since this would make a nonsense of the historical battle, I stuck with the script, and assaulted Plancenoit like a good'un. Not so good, in fact.

The French commander (Comte Lobau, aka Stryker) drew some excellent cards early, including one which enabled him to rush his reserves up into the town, so that by the time I got my first attack under way the place was stuffed with Old Guard, Young Guard and all shades of high-quality soldiery, and the challenge had become even more - well, challenging. Very quickly, that first attack fizzled out, and there didn't seem to be much to be gained by just going back in again. I had a bigger army, but I was losing them very quickly.

Also, the movement of the French reserves into the town meant that I no longer had scope to defeat enough units on my right flank to tip the balance back. However, I went ahead and attacked the French left, and had a little more success, while my continuing intermittent assaults on Plancenoit itself gained occasional footholds, but always short-lived. At one point I was 8-1 down on VBs (9 for the win), but a (very lucky) victory over a battalion of Old Guard (who were out in the open - definitely the high spot of an otherwise bleak day for the Prussians) and some success on my right got things back to 8-4, before the French, quite correctly and justifiably, won their final banner.

No complaints from me - I was disappointed by my light cavalry (that must be some kind of epitaph), who were just outclassed by their opponents, and my artillery achieved nothing at all - hopeless, but once again the Landwehr demonstrated a magical ability to roll good dice. We had a discussion afterwards over whether the basic superiority of the French troops, as set out in the standard national tables in C&CN, is maybe overstated for the 1815 period, but that is just a fun debate. My lot were, to coin a military phrase, whupped on the day.

My thanks and compliments to Goya, who hosted the action and umpired (and fed us, splendidly), and Stryker, who commanded the French force with his customary élan. Great day out - a huge amount of fun.

History is wrecked, the French probably did go on to gain their celebrated victory at the Battle of Mont St Jean after all. Conky Atty may invent whatever versions of the day he wishes. Neither night nor Blücher arrived early enough to save him...

**** Recommend you also link to Stryker's account of the day, which has better photos *****

General view from Prussian right at the start - by the way, please ignore confusing
Spanish regimental titles visible in these photos - the sabots were borrowed for the
day. I'll get a supply of guest sabots painted up for C&CN away-days...

Middle of the Prussian position - Plancenoit just visible at the top of the picture

Some of the troops on the French left - I'd have done better against these...

Quality everywhere - the French reserves are rushed up - strictly, these are Guard
Fusiliers, but they were Young Guard for the day - that must be General Duhèsme, then

Script for the day - send in more heroes...

...and occasionally someone would get a toe in the town, but briefly; fleetingly

"Let's get this straight - you want us to flush them out of there - is that what you said...?"

The Prussians still have troops in decent shape, but none of them is keen to attack the town again

After a while, a gap opened in front of the town, while the Prussians looked for a
more promising strategy

We did a little better on our right

One of the temporary occupants of the edge of the town was a Landwehr unit
- brave but doomed

More Landwehr heroes [ignore Spanish alias...]

Since the official victory conditions were achieved in a little over two hours, we played
on for a while, but there was no significant change in the theme of the day. By the end
of the extended play period, there is a lot of space on the table, and the Prussians
continued to lose men and units at about twice the speed of their opponents

French light cavalry (my own Garrison figures) - we couldn't offer any serious
challenge to them

From the French side of the field, the strength of their position in the town is
very apparent (I think so, anyway - mutter, mutter...)

ECW - The Battle of Marston Moor - 2nd July 1644

Hot Rupert came spurring to Marston Moor;
Praise we the Lord!
Came spurring hard with thousands a score:
Praise we the Lord!
Beleaguered York, that we lay before,
He knew would be ours ere a week was o'er,
So to scatter our hosts he fiercely swore.
To the Lord our God be glory!

William Cox Bennett

With the snow of recent weeks now merely a fading memory, we played the postponed Marston Moor game yesterday, here at the Chateau Foy. Excellent fun - using my Commands & Colors-derived rules, we fought the battle to a result in about three and a half hours elapsed, which is not bad going at all, considering that I was umpiring...

Baron Stryker, true to type, embraced the role of Prince Rupert with his customary zeal, while Count Goya played out the part of the canny Lord Leven with a more calculating, cautious approach which was entirely appropriate.

The battle was set out according to the most reliable OOB listings I could find. Rupert was given a couple of choices before commencement:

(1) he could, if he wished, reposition the two advanced units of foot on his right - his own and Lord Byron's regiments - which earned him much criticism on the day from Lord Eythin; he opted not to change the set-up, and left them in their historic position

(2) along with his own regiment of horse, Rupert started in reserve, off the table, and could appear on either flank, as he wished; in this case he chose to join Goring's cavalry on his left flank, rather than the choice he made back in '44, when he joined Byron and Molyneux on the right

The game had some strong similarities to the original battle - both sides won their own left flank - Cromwell and Leslie with the horse on the Allies' left were successful, after an initial struggle which could have gone either way; Goring (with Rupert) won the cavalry fight on the other flank for the Royalists - rather easily, in fact. In the centre, the Allied foot was more cautiously handled than in the original, and Rupert surprised everyone by attacking in this area. This was a bold move, though there is a reported eye-witness account which claims that at one point he was heard to say, "erm - I wonder if I should have waited for them to attack...?". 

With luck, some form of battle narrative should suggest itself from the photos. The Allies won by 14 Victory Points to 9 - the units and leaders eliminated being:

Royalists

Chisenall's Foot
Earl of Newcastle's Foot
Gibson / Ernle's Foot (combined)
Prince Rupert's Foot
Lord Molyneux's Horse
Trevor's Horse
Lord Byron's Horse
Chas Slingsby's Foot
Tillier's Foot
Warren's Foot
Cheater's Foot

plus a couple of cannons and a few commanded shot (which don't count), and also the following generals:

Lord Eythin
Sir Charles Lucas
Lord Molyneux

Allies

Earl of Manchester's Foot
Lord Eglinton's Horse
Bethell's Horse
Lambert's Horse
Earl of Manchester's Horse
Vermuyden's Horse
Fairfax's Horse
Fleetwood's Horse

plus one light cannon, plus

Sir Thomas Fairfax, who was killed in the cavalry fight near Long Marston

To my guests yesterday I offer, yet again, my heartfelt thanks for their good humour, patience, enthusiasm and excellent company. It should be recorded that, in honour of the substantial Covenanter presence on the field, our lunch menu featured haggis, neeps and tatties.

Very open terrain - view from the South-West (Allies on this side)...

...and from the South-East - the edge of the village of Long Marston is off the table,
and only there to provide some scenic context

Same two views, with the armies in position

Prince Rupert - his dog featured in the scenario rules. Earl of Newcastle's carriage
in the background.

Cromwell attacks the cavalry on the Royalist right flank

In the centre, Rupert shocks his opponent by attacking

Meanwhile, on the Royalist right, only a battered remnant of the horse remain, and they are
about to be finished off

...there you are - they've gone, and Lord Byron is now taking refuge with the
Foot, a bit further along

The battle in the centre is now building up, though Rupert could have done with some more troops

Having defeated the Royalists' horse on their right flank, Cromwell turns his attention to the foot

Meanwhile, on the Royalist left, Goring has virtually eliminated Fairfax's horse - this
was the most successful bit of the Royalists' day. The day before the real battle, the Allied
soldiers and horses exhausted all water supplies in the village of Long Marston - you
can see that we were taking no chances yesterday. [To even up the accidental advertising
 in this report, the sharp-eyed reader may observe that I have requisitioned a number of
Tesco's charity tokens to augment the stock of order counters - that's the blue, round
things - more accurately, the blue, round things which have "Tesco" written on them]  

Rupert running out of steam in the middle - the VPs are mounting up

Goring has complete control of the Royalists' left flank, though by this time it doesn't
really matter any more. Rupert, with his own regiment of horse, is in the centre of the
picture. Rupert conducted himself with conspicuous gallantry, as you would expect,
though he appeared to be the object of some personal vendetta from Lord Loudon's
Glasgow Foot (who, luckily for Rupert, couldn't shoot for toffee). Both Rupert
and his dog survived the day. Hurrah! 

Appendix 1 - afterthoughts...

With the battlefield dismantled and everything put away, the dining room returns to its normal calm. With Glenn Gould playing Bach on the hi-fi, it's hard to believe that so many thousands fought and died here just yesterday, a feeling which is not unlike what I experienced when I walked across the Marston Moor battlefield in the pouring rain only a few weeks ago - it's just farmland now - odd how the years take away the suffering...

So, if one day the battlefield archeologists visit my tabletop battlefield, what will they find? - just a family dining room?

Not necessarily! - they might find evidence of my splendid new play-mats from the Early Learning Centre, which add greatly to the stability and the evenness of my battlefield, and would probably serve to deaden the sound of tiny hooves in the basement below - if we had one, that is.


Appendix 2 - the Rules

Mostly, everything went well. The game is intended to allow a large action to be fought to an understandable finish in a short time, and that was accomplished without problems. A couple of things I learned, which may appear on Version 2_70 in due course:

(1) Artillery is worse than useless - arguably even more useless than it should be. Easily fixed - I'll go back to fielding two artillery pieces in each unit of medium or heavy field artillery - that should fix it. 

(2) The scenario rule to handle parties of commanded shot attached to units of horse was something of a wash-out. Since loss of these musketeers did not involve Victory Points, it would have been better to state that if they became separated from their parent unit of horse (normally as a result of the horse galloping off at cavalry speeds, which happened a lot, both in the real battle and the toy one) then they would simply retire quietly to a nearby hostelry. Trying to keep track of them and make sensible use of them after separation was not useful.

(3) The latest version of my rule which tries to give "Galloper" cavalry a reasonable advantage over "Trotters" has become too fiddly again - it would be handier and simpler if they just got an extra Battle Die in all combats. My attempts to do something more subtle really only produced a small extra measure of irritation...