Hooptedoodle #300 - Visit to a Local Landmark - North Berwick Law

Unprepossessing lump - North Berwick Law doesn't look so great from the car park

In the area where we live there are a number of strangely shaped bumps - some of them are hills (like kids' drawings of hills, really) and some of them, because they finished up in the sea, have become rather quirky looking islands. They are all the hard, basaltic cores of ancient volcanoes. Let the frost and the wind and the Scottish rain nibble away at the softer outside covering for many millions of years and - bingo - you have these strange, characteristic bumps.

One of the more famous examples around here is North Berwick Law. You can see it from most of the surrounding county, you can see it from the Fife coast, across the Firth of Forth - you can even get a glimpse of it from the North Bridge, above Waverley Station, in Central Edinburgh - 40 miles away. It is, in short, a landmark.

Because it's local, of course, we seldom go there - we leave that sort of stuff to the tourists. It's only about 600 feet high, but since it's a fairly abrupt climb from the harbour, it seems higher. Certainly the view is worth the exertion.

I must have climbed NB Law maybe 8 times in my life. The last time before today was when I took a visitor up there, in January 2012 (I am surprised to learn - how time flies) - I recall that walk well, since I slipped on the mud on the way down, and slid about 30 feet on my a*se, which damaged my dignity far more than it injured my person.

Anyway, today was a beautiful day, and off we went for the afternoon. Splendid - clear view, not too windy. As ever, you wonder why you don't do this more often.

The Contesse took her camera, so you get to see rather better quality pictures than I could have managed. My son was much quicker than us, both up and down, and he told us afterwards that he had finished the downward leg in 7 minutes, while we took 23. Maybe this means we enjoyed our walk about 3 times as much as he did? It's a thought.

Apart from these old volcanic plugs, this is quite a flat plain - looking south-west
from the top - note the characteristic red-brown earth that you get in this coastal area
of East Lothian, which continues down the coast into Berwickshire

Looking west across the town - the island right in the middle of the picture is Fidra,
which is supposed to be where RL Stevenson's childhood trips fired the idea behind
Treasure Island

Ah yes - the jawbones. The ones you see here are a replacement set, supplied quite
recently - a fibreglass replica of the genuine ones which rotted away. I find this interesting;
naturally we could not condone the killing of a modern whale to obtain replacement
jawbones, but what will our descendants make of this strange plastic structure on top of
a hill? Obviously some kind of religious significance. In any case, we are in trouble
 - there must already be those who feel we should not be erecting monuments celebrating the
historic hunting of whales. This really is difficult, isn't it...?

Plaque to explain why there is a fake jawbone on top of the hill.

On the horizon on the left are the Lammermuir hills, on the right are the Pentlands,
over near Edinburgh, and in centre, rather closer to our viewpoint, are the Garleton
Hills, near Haddington

View across the harbour towards the island of Craigleith, with the weekend dinghy boys
giving it their best shot. The villages on the Fife coast, right at the top, are Anstruther and
Pittenweem, though I can never remember which is which...

View to the east is back towards our neck of the woods; the Bass Rock - another famous
volcanic plug - looks a bit unreal here - the colour confirms that the gannets are
arriving for the Summer.

Splish Splosh - Marston Moor visit

Geese in York - webbed feet were a great idea

At the weekend I attended York Wargames Society's Vapnartak show at York racecourse - big show, lots of stuff to look at, one or two old friends to say hello to.

To round out my weekend, I took the opportunity on Saturday to visit the Marston Moor battlefield. I've never been there, and I felt it would be useful in preparing for a planned wargame later this month.

It was a very wet day, I have to say. Before I went, I was trying to keep my packing as light as possible, and after some agonising I decided not to take my proper hill-walking boots on my trip. Saturday was so wet and muddy that I couldn't really get off the road (which runs across the battlefield, just as it did in 1644, between the two armies), but the hiking boots wouldn't have helped - I'd have needed waders or something to make much progress off-road.

I took the public bus from York (route 412, destination Wetherby) to Long Marston, and walked to Tockwith, at the far side of the battlefield. I had a decent lunch in the Spotted Ox, and got the bus back to York.

No visitors on the battlefield at all - just a few passing cars to splash the puddles over me. The modern farmland is obviously very different from the rough moorland on which they fought the battle, but one important thing I learned from my visit is that the ground where the Parliament side set up is a definite ridge - not steep, but quite marked; from the road you can only see up to the crest, and there is dead ground beyond (which is why Rupert maybe underestimated Leven's numbers on the day). On the other side of the road, where Rupert and Newcastle formed their lines, it is pretty much as flat as a billiard table. You may be able to see towards York from up on the ridge, but from where I was you can see very little.

Get off the bus at the Sun Inn in Long Marston

Sounds as though this might be one of the older buildings in Long Marston, but I
understand there is hardly anything here which dates back to 1644

Looking south towards the Parliamentary lines - this would be the join between
Fairfax's horse on the right flank and the Scottish foot in the middle - definitely rising
ground. The hedges are all post-Enclosure Act, so would not have been present on the day

Looking along the road between the two armies, heading west. You can just see
the battlefield monument peeking over the hedge on the right

Moor Lane - or Bloody Lane, as it was famed. Today it's just Muddy Lane, and I
chickened out of going up there. I would never have made a soldier - I only just make it as a
tourist on my braver days

The monument, on the corner of the road and Moor Lane - we
are looking North here

The commemorative plaques have strange political overtones - does the wording
here strike you as oddly specific? - does this line up nicely with Cromwell's own
dismissal of the part anyone else played in "his" victory? Are his press agents still working?

Looking north-west across Rupert's position - pretty flat, I reckon

More politics - walk around the monument and the locals have put in a special mention of
Black Tom Fairfax

Ah yes - the Cromwell Association - who'd have expected that?

The Official Story - no mention of the Earl of Leven here, then, and not much about the
Earl of Manchester

Opposite the monument, there's a footpath up onto the Allies' position - some
other day, maybe - but I got the idea

Not a big battlefield - the fighting took place between Long Marston and Tockwith, and
they are about 2.5 miles apart.

More violence - monument in Tockwith to a bomber crew who crashed at the end of WW2

Tockwith village - Bilton church is off to the left somewhere here - the Bilton Bream was
an area of rough ground on the Allied left flank that was levelled by Cromwell's
engineers before the battle - one of the things they sorted out was a man-made
rabbit warren - I wouldn't mind seeing a picture of what that looked like!

Time for lunch - homemade fish pie and veg and a pint of Tetley's, then the bus back
to York to dry out

Hooptedoodle #289 - It's Amazing

La Duchesse Nails the Punchline

La Duchesse Veuve Culdechat (1934-   )

It being the Season of Goodwill, today we were delighted to welcome my mother-in-law to the humble comforts of the Chateau Foy. It is some time since she made a state visit at this time of year - you can read about the last occurrence here if you wish.

You will gather that we are always on our very best behaviour on such occasions. However, today her visit went very smoothly, and, as a bonus, she undoubtedly produced what so far has been the best line of the holiday period around here.

During the chatter before lunch, she suddenly asked me, "Do you still do - erm - whatever it is you do with toy soldiers...?"

You will recognise that this would be the moment for cheery self-confidence on my part, so I put on a big smile and my best, reassuringly breezy baritone.

"Oh yes - very much so," I said. "In fact, that's been going very well recently - there are a couple of chaps who live not too far from here, and I've been getting together with them for some pretty big games. Splendid fun!"

My smile may have been sagging a little at the end of this, but she was very positive about it all.

"That's good - it's amazing, though, isn't it?"

"Erm - what is?"

"It's amazing," she said, "that there are two people in Scotland that have the same interest as you."

And - of course, as ever - she is completely correct.

Hooptedoodle #286 - A Brief Journey into the Unknown

Saturday was the day for my exciting trip to Perth & Kinross, which is unusually exotic for someone who doesn't get out much. Since I am not too confident about the last bit of the route, I transferred the satnav from my car into the van and loaded up the route. It is a very ancient Garmin Nuvi 250 - the only reason I persist with it is because I invested in a lifetime supply of map updates. Whether it is for my own lifetime or the device's is a matter of moot - I could never raise the courage to find out.

I was aware that there would be a strange bit in the middle of the run, since, though my maps were updated pretty recently, they predate the September opening of the new Forth road bridge, the Queensferry Crossing. I was interested to see what Martina (Ms Satnavrilova, the resident female voice in the device) would make of the lack of information.

Last time Martina had a nervous collapse was some years ago, on a very wet day in Inverness, when she got into an eternal loop in the one-way system, and the display briefly turned psychedelic before I switched her off, out of sympathy as much as irritation.

On Saturday, probably predictably, as I left the approach road for the old bridge, the display showed that I was travelling through a clear white space (previously farm fields), which became a clear blue space as I reached the water. There was the usual image of the rear of a car in the middle, but the rest of the display was blank. Martina said, "recalculating...  recalculating... recalculating..." over and over, for about 3 or 4 minutes, and then sort of trailed off. The display still showed me heading off into the unknown - although the view outside the windscreen was of traffic, and of the road over the new bridge on a nice sunny morning, the display made me feel rather lonely - almost homesick. I felt a bit like the Voyager spacecraft heading into the depths of space.

Voyager on its way to Kinross

As I approached the other side, Martina suddenly brightened up, though she didn't sound too confident.

"In one mile," she announced, "enter roundabout...", though there was nothing on the screen apart from the little car. Soon after, the road joined the Northern approach for the old bridge, and Martina was back to her businesslike self.

"Enter roundabout, and take first exit...", and normal service was restored. It was amusing to see what had happened, but I have to say it is not comfortable to behold that you are lost at sea. Today I am updating the maps again - that should sort it. Mind you, even the latest Garmin updates still give warning of a temporary 40mph speed limit on the A720, the Edinburgh By-pass, between Sheriffhall and Musselburgh, which was removed at the end of a spell of roadworks in about 2007. I keep a careful eye on Martina for signs of dementia. As it used to say in the audit manual, Trust but Verify.

Möckern Around on a Saturday Afternoon

Tough nut - the French-held village of Möckern, complete with medieval tower
and - can that be Felsham church...?

Yesterday, before dawn, it was all busy, busy here at Foy's Travelling Wargames Inc, the van was packed and I set off with many little friends packed in magnetised boxes, headed for 16th Oct 1813 and that far corner of the Kingdom of Fife which calls itself Perth and Kinross. Very nice too, despite the weather forecast and rather snowy conditions.

Goya hosted the event at his baronial palace, where he has busily been painting Prussian troops to make up the cast list. The combined Prussians of the armies of Goya and Baron Stryker (under Goya's command) were to fight the French VI Corps under Marshal Marmont (played by Stryker himself, still glowing with the glory of his recent French success at Talavera). I was the umpire, a role which I enjoy (leveraging, as Dilbert would say, my OCD tendencies to advantage) and which gives a very good chance of avoiding defeat.

Möckern, of course, is one of the outlying precursors to the Battle of Leipzig, which took place two days later. Research is hampered a little by the fact that there was another battle of Möckern, some 6 months earlier, which, since it was a French victory, is rather better documented [discuss].

The large village of Möckern at that time was some distance from Leipzig, and sat on a road from the north which went to the Northern gate to the city. Our battle was only part of the real historical one - we covered the left of the French defence - that part which was opposed by Yorck's Prussian I Corps of Blücher's Army of Silesia. Our scenario comes from the official Commands & Colors: Napoleonics Expansion #5 booklet - the only amendments were some substitution of Prussian units to fit with the miniatures we had available, and a house rule tweak to include a couple of roads, and allow a small measure of quicker movement for regiments which used them.

The French start the day strongly positioned in the village (thus having 2 bonus Victory Points at the outset, which, if they lose the place, will disappear and become 3 for the Prussians). There were also bonus VPs available if the Prussians managed to exit any units over the French baseline (which in rugby terms is known as a try, we think). 10 VPs for the win. Standard size 13 x 9 hex table. A couple of scenario rules concerned the small bend of the River Elster and the minor stream (Pleisse? - Parthe? - can't remember) on the French right flank, and a more significant rule, in that the outlying Manor Farm of Möckern was a strong, walled strongpoint allowing defenders to disregard one "retreat flag" if one came up.

The Prussians, being Prussians, are allowed an allocation of Iron Will counters by the C&CN rules - on this occasion they had 4 available for the day - these may be used as a last-resort means of cancelling retreat flags - 1 counter per flag. [We used 20-cent Euro coins, in fact]

In the real battle, the Prussians made pretty slow progress attacking the village, suffered heavy losses and retreated. The French were somewhat inconvenienced by an exploding ammo cart (so Marmont says, anyway, in his memoirs), but the Marshal ordered up his corps light cavalry - a brigade of Württembergers commanded by Generalmajor Normann - to pursue the repulsed infantry, and - allegedly - Normann refused. Marmont then ordered forward Lagrange's infantry to carry out the pursuit, and they were caught by the Prussian cavalry, and very badly handled, falling back in disorder onto the village of Gohlis, where they joined Ney in an attempt to hold off the Russian advance the following day.

Normann's disobedience may seem less surprising when it is remembered that the Württembergers were one of the German states which defected to the Allies on the 18th.


Our game started with the Prussians butting their heads against the walled farm, in authentic style, and they started losing men rapidly - a tendency which became established as a general theme for the day. They then had a quick, dramatic success when a battalion of French légère received two retreat flags and - special rule or not - were forced out of the farm, to be replaced by some Prussian grenadiers, who held it for the rest of the engagement. That was as good as it got for Yorck. Hampered by astonishingly poor dice (unbelievable - it quickly passed beyond amusing to downright embarrassing, so after a little while no-one laughed any more...), Yorck also had problems with the quality of his army - he had a lot of Reservists (double retreats) and militia (triple retreats), and thus had to use the Iron Will counters to stop his militia cavalry disappearing to the rear - and his cavalry, though much more numerous on the face of it, were relatively puny, the scenario stipulating 3 "blocks" per unit, compared with the French 4 per unit.

The French at one point were 8-0 up on VPs, though the Prussians did eventually wear a few units down, and then there was the extraordinary episode of General Lagrange. Lagrange was present with a French line unit which was eliminated. He survived, though was only able to retreat to a very hazardous position adjacent to the farm, where the resident grenadiers duly used him for target practice. They missed. Apparently crazed by his luck, Lagrange hung around for another volley, waving his hat to goad them - they missed again. At which point a unit of militia lancers appeared, and captured him, which certainly served him right.

The Prussian attack on the left fizzled out from lack of sufficient good-quality troops, and the game ran out a 10-4 win for the French - still with the initial 2 for holding most of Möckern village, and with the Prussian 4th VP counter entirely due to the death-wish of General Lagrange.

Interesting game - very interesting. None of us has any idea how the Prussians could have won; once again we overturned history. They never got close to securing any bonus VPs for scoring a "try" on their left - they couldn't have spared the troops anyway. One alternative strategy would have been to ignore the very strong village and concentrate on an assault by the Prussian left - it would be necessary to clear away a good few French units to rack up VPs, and then exit over the French baseline with enough units to get up to 10VPs with the scenario bonus.

As it was, this was never a possibility, and the day's bloodshed made very little contribution to the overall cause of Befreiung. Not to worry - an excellent day's entertainment, and excellent food, as ever. Special mention must be made of the personal efforts of Count Goya, who had banished his family, along with all the servants, to the country for the weekend, and did a fine solo job of the catering. My thanks to my colleagues for their excellent company and good humour.

Thoughts on C&CN scenarios? Not very much - we should maybe be suspicious of general application of the standard C&CN national characteristics. In particular, the French line infantry get an extra combat die in melee combat against infantry, simply because of their famed élan and effectiveness. That's well and good, but the point is well made that, though Marmont's Corps was among the better of the French line troops at Leipzig, the French army was nothing like what it had been in 1809. We should have a look at scenario rules more carefully in this respect. The French OOB for VI Corps includes many provisional regiments which consisted of battalions of veteran Peninsular War regiments, but typically these were the 5th or 6th battalions of such regiments, and the large numbers of "Marine Infantry" present are something of an unknown quantity - whatever some of the historical paintings may show - these were not the Marins de la Garde - nothing like.

Right - to the pictures. Please ignore the labelling you see on the units - there were a great many sabots on loan from other armies, so the presence of apparently Spanish or Portuguese units should be disregarded.

General view - French on the left, Prussians and the North to the right, and the
village of Möckern dominating the Leipzig road at the far end

From behind the Prussian left, at the start (about 11:30)

The village, with its outlying walled farm, seen from the French side, with the
little village of Wahren on the far edge (featuring a town gate which I like, and
which doesn't get played with very often, on account of the clock in the tower being
a poor fit with the ECW). General Lagrange is already practising his hat-waving
act, just this side of the village (with the white border to his base).

Yorck's Prussians make a start against the walled Manor Farm

Though the farm is not very promising, the main village itself is a very formidable 
objective, with enough size to allow garrison units to provide mutual support

Just for a moment, things seemed to be swinging a little, as the Silesian grenadiers
drove the French out of the farm

Further left, the Prussians under Horn and Steinmetz ponder the chances
of a breakthrough

And on the far left flank of the Prussian force, Hünerbein did at least have some
better quality regular troops

General problem for Yorck was that his cavalry was understrength, and he had
too high a proportion of Reservist and Landwehr units...

...more particular problem was his spectacular lack of luck with the dice. Here's a
good example - this is the result of a 3-block militia lancer regiment attacking in
melee. Normally, 3 sabres would be 3 hits, but of course militia don't get to count sabres
in a melee under C&CN rules. We did have a laugh at this one, in fact.

Action on the Prussian left - a brief glimpse of the legendary French 15eme
Chasseurs à Cheval (on the road) who did not manage to live up to their celebrated
success at Talavera

The battle for the farm reaches its peak - the French were driven off here

Having driven off an attack by the French (Württemberg) cavalry in the centre,
the Prussian cavalry here are too weakened to contribute further

The extraordinary adventure of General Lagrange, waving his hat in defiance of the
Prussians in the farm. The lancers in the background did for him shortly afterwards.

The final situation - stalemate on the French right, the Prussians have failed to capture
the village and - ultimately - lost too many men. If you have good eyesight, you may
see the white Victory Point counters on the respective baselines - 10 for the
French (including 2 green ones for hanging onto most of Möckern) and 4 for the
Prussians.

Hooptedoodle #274 - Opening of the Queensferry Crossing

 

An exciting day out for all the family - we were invited to attend the opening weekend of the new Queensferry Crossing - the road bridge across the Firth of Forth which is to supplement the Forth Road Bridge, which itself was opened in 1964 and is starting to show its age.

When I say invited, a few months ago there were adverts in the Press, inviting applications from the public to walk across the new bridge when it was opened, before the traffic started. Some one-third of a million applications were received, and a ballot reduced this to 50,000 attendees, divided into the two open days, 2nd and 3rd September. We were lucky enough to be allocated places on the 3rd, so we went along this morning. The security arrangements were impressive - passports and photo-ID were needed, and all applications were carefully vetted. Limitations were placed on what you could carry, and all bags and possessions were checked. Our plan of action was

(1) Early morning train from North Berwick to Edinburgh Waverley, then take the Stirling train as far as Edinburgh Park (only two stops, in fact).
(2) From this station - out in the suburban world of banking head offices [boo!] - it was about 10 minutes walk to our official bussing point.
(3) Through all the security and registration procedures, and then onto a brand new bus (no expense spared) and a 25 minute run to the southern end of the new bridge, near the town of South Queensferry.

We then were free to join the crowds walking over the new bridge. A marvellous experience - we were very lucky with the weather, too. There were people in fancy dress, raising money for charity, folk in wheelchairs - many thousands of visitors - a great day out for all. The numbers are bewildering - the bridge is 1.7 miles in length, and it cost some £1.35bn - there are also endless statistics about how much concrete was required, how many people worked on it, how much traffic it will carry, and so on and so on - if you are interested, please check online - there's tons of the stuff (I won't tell you how much...). We took about an hour to walk across - taking our time and capturing a great many photos - and then were taken by bus back to Edinburgh Park, from whence we started our train trip home.

Excellent. Also it was free to the participants, and this is really quite a production - I guess that a portion of the project budget is set aside to ensure that the taxpayers are happy with the thing.

What was it like? Well, it was great, but a little odd. I have to say that I was surprised that there was not a great sense of being on a big bridge over an arm of the sea. If this seems a strange thing to say, it is probably a testament to the skill of the design. The superstructure is only in evidence if you look up (and it is most certainly very much in evidence then!), and the transparent windbreak panels cut down on both the view and the breeze, so the overall impression is of being on a straight piece of modern roadway.

I've reproduced a selection of our photos, and have added some borrowed from the media, to give a better context, and a better idea of what the thing is like - when you are on it, there is surprisingly little to see of it!

Strangely foreshortened zoom-lens shot from the Guardian, rather hides the fact
that the new structure is 1.7 miles long!

Windbreaks - West Lothian coastline in the background

I have to confess to an OCD nightmare fantasy - obviously the cables go up, though
a hole in the pillar and then down to anchor into a matching socket on the other side
- what if you've nearly finished and you find you're short of a socket? - you've got
them all one out, like the buttons on the duvet - now what...?

At the end of our trip, I am now fired up to walk across the old Road Bridge, a thing which I could have done at any time in the last 50 years - it should be a rather better spectacle, and will definitely give better views of the Queensferry Crossing.

My compliments to the heroes who built this thing, and to the Scottish Parliament for arranging the open day. It will take me a little while to appreciate what I saw today, I think. It will certainly be nicer to drive across than its bumpy old uncle next door.