Something for Self-Isolated Souls Aged from 12 years old to 150...

...and for those who claim to be working from home, and are interested in daft puzzles.

This all stems from my setting out some miniature soldiers on the attic floor yesterday (a procedure I found strangely stressful), and from a subsequent comment by Aly M, who empathised with my discomfort.

The challenge is - estimate how much HG Wells spent on his collection of toy soldiers!

Braw lads

I'd welcome thoughts and guesses on this - in terms both of UK prices in his day, and the modern equivalent. Let's set this in 1911-13 - that's a period between the publication of Floor Games and Little Wars. If it helps, there were 12 pence to the shilling in those days, 20 shillings to the pound. If you wish, you may calculate how many weeks it would have taken a typical agricultural labourer to earn the price of a toy soldier. Whatever. You have the whole of the World Wide Web as your playroom.

It would be useful to have a feel for Wells' rules and how he played his games, how big the forces involved might be, how many periods he played (or was it all just one vaguely "recent modern" period for him?), the contemporary prices of Wm Britains hollowcast figures, whether Wells might get a fancy discount for bulk (the more fanciful the ideas the better, here), where he got those famous firing cannons, and how much they cost - anything and everything that might be (even remotely) relevant will be welcome. Estimate for breakage-replacement if you wish. This is not an attempt to produce a lifetime sum, it's simply about the armies he had around 1911-13, and how much he spent on them. I assume that he bought his soldiers off the shelf, ready painted. To be honest, I'm not even sure what kind of soldiers he fielded, or what the "sides" were - illustrations I've seen look a bit like the Trooping of the Colours - not many trenches or light troops in woods - a lot of formal dress. All very correct and proper. This also applies to the players, of course.

Classic attic-floor view - note that this is an artist's impression, or is it an enhanced photograph?

Ignore his collection of scenery, I think, although if you wish to have a guess at that then please carry on. You should also ignore the cost of refreshments for his guests, though it would be instructive to consider what would have been appropriate. It might even give me some guidelines for a variation of the guest menu at Chateau Foy, when things resume, after the Armistice.

My entry point for this is that it's not something I know much about, either about the workings of Wells' rules nor the lore of the 54mm hollowcast soldier. A friend of mine, when challenged recently on how much he spends each year on his wargaming, proved that it is less than his wife spends on visits to the hairdresser (take notes if you wish). I'd be interested to have an estimate for how much HG committed to his rather niche hobby activities.

I haven't started on any of this yet, other than thinking vaguely what might be involved, but I did a little Wiki reading on HG, and was surprised to learn that he was certainly a bit off the wall for his day; a Fabian, a pacifist and something of a socialist visionary, he also had a very complicated marital life (if you are into that sort of research) - he'd have been better off sticking with the little soldiers if you ask me...

Wells working in the garden - now this is scary - imagine the feverish head-count at the end, and checking the grass-box next time the lawn is mowed

All suggestions welcome - the wilder and more far-fetched the better. If I get no responses at all I will have proved something (about myself, probably), but I'm happy to keep this topic open if there's any interest. I am certainly not an expert, so I hope to learn a bit here!

Thinking of soldiers on the floor, I remember that once, as a lad in short pants, I accidentally kneeled on some troops during one of my periodic battles (which would have included Zulus, WW2 US Marines, Foreign Legionnaires, Arab tribesmen, all sorts). I broke two Britains kneeling Highlanders - red jackets, white tropical helmets. This must obviously have been a single incident among many similar, but, apart from the early OCD evidence that I had these two identical figures next to each other, behind a flat metal Johilco hedge section, I recall that I was fascinated (though disappointed, naturally) at the time that they broke identically - they both lost the same leg - exactly the same fracture. This may have been the moment in my childhood when I decided that I wanted to grow up to be a madman.

This may be the moment when it all started to slide. It's also possible that the indentation is still in my kneecap, in which case I could maybe cast some replicas.

I'll check it out.

Nantwich - Lord Molyneux's Purple Day

The arranged Nantwich game took place yesterday. Since the field layout for this battle doesn't really work well with the conventional Commands & Colors Left/Centre/Right activation system, we used a Ramekin-based mod for the C&C game, with dice-based activation.

Near the end of the day, Parliament's right flank consisted of Rigby's Regt of Foot and an artillery battery. They saw off some earlier attention from Royalist Horse, and were still holding their ground when we finished.

The game started with the Parliamentary army coming onto the field from the north. Because one of the chief bridges over the River Weaver was wrecked, Lord Byron had most of his Royalist troops on the wrong side of the river, so they arrived, very short of breath, after a detour through Shrewbridge, shortly after Fairfax's boys appeared on the Chester road opposite.

The Royalists already had a regiment of Foot and some medium sakers in place at Acton Church, and a body of musketeers from Fulk Huncke's regiment in the grounds of Dorfold Hall. The Parliament troops had a garrison of 800 muskets in the Nantwich suburb of Welsh Row, which had been strengthened with earthworks. The Nantwich garrison were classed as "raw".

On paper, the Royalists looked stronger - they had a lot of "veteran" units, and their Horse were generally superior tactically to their opponents.

In our game, Byron (that was Stryker and me) set about getting troops up to Acton Church, but realised fairly quickly that Fairfax (Goya and the Archduke) had swerved left and was heading towards Nantwich. Most of the subsequent action took place in the fields around Henhull Farm.

Byron rushes on to the field from the right of the picture, he may be late but he'll be up-to-date when he can shimmy like his sister Kate. He has troops already in the middle of the table, under Richard Gibson. Acton Church is smack in the middle of the photo, Dorfold Hall on the right edge of the table, with Nantwich beyond it, in the corner. Henhull Farm, where most of the fighting took place, is near the top edge of the photo, about one-third from the right.

It becomes obvious fairly quickly that Fairfax plans to avoid the church and head left over towards Nantwich. Sneaky.

With the Parliament troops making for Henhull (right of centre at the top of the picture), Byron attempts to react to this by moving forward with his own right flank.

Near the enclosure just to the west of Henhull, Earnley's Regt of Foot (in the foreground) are attacked by Parliament Horse. Earnley's was one of the numerous veteran units on the King's side this day (see the "V" on the bases), and they had a light gun with them. With confidence appropriate to their veteran status, they declined the opportunity to form a hedgehog - and were promptly ridden down! After a slow start, the Victory Points score was suddenly 3-1 to Fairfax's forces (7 for the win). 

Now there was violent conflict in the open ground around Henhull. Although we had expected this would be a quiet day for horse (assuming that the fighting would take place, historically, around Acton Church), there was some spectacular cavalry action - predictably bloody. At this stage the VP score had reached 4-3 for Parliament.

In a desperate attempt to get a few more VPs, the Royalists attacked on their left. This is Tyldesley's RoH attacking - they were forced to withdraw.

After the Horse, Tyldesley's and Robert Byron's Regts of Foot commenced an attack. It was now 5-4 for Parliament, and Stryker and I were not feeling too confident...

...when suddenly, on the other flank, Lord Richard Molyneux's Horse routed a Parliament unit of Horse, then broke through and destroyed John Booth's RoF, killing Sir Wm Brereton in the process. That's 3 VPs in a single turn, folks, and we'd snatched it 7-5. The picture shows Molyneux's boys getting their breath back, on Welshman's Lane, after their greatest day ever. Lancashire lads, you see?

I'm the first to admit that our victory was more than a little streaky, but I shall enjoy it anyway. At the end of the day, Gibson's RoF and the sakers are just where they started, by the Church of St Mary Acton, having had a relatively quiet time.

 As ever, my compliments and thanks to my colleagues, for their company and excellent humour. Thanks in particular to the Archduke, for his brave circumnavigation of Edinburgh. I'm sure we'll be back to Napoleonics for our next meeting, but the change of period was refreshing!

Fighting Next Week - Nantwich (again)

Next week it is my turn to host a wargame with what has now become the usual crew, and very nice too. For a little change of context, this time I'm staging the Battle of Nantwich (January 1644), which I fought once before - more than 6 years ago, I'm astounded to learn. Since then my tabletop has been repainted with the hexes the "correct" way round, so the battlefield has been re-engineered a bit.

The battle is interesting; like a good many of the smaller, regional actions from the First ECW, it is not just a straight Grand Bash in open countryside, everyone lined up in their best togs with the cavalry on the flanks and all that - it is more of an encounter, albeit an encounter on well-worn ground, as part of a campaign. I'll post some more notes before the game (probably).

This is what my Battle of Nantwich looks like before the soldiers arrive.

General view of the battlefield from the South East, with the town of Nantwich in the foreground. The place is important by this date in the ECW because it is the last town in Cheshire held by Parliament, and it has an important bridge over the River Weaver. The river is unfordable, particularly this January of 1644, when there has been a sudden thaw of snow.

Close up of part of the town - across the bridge is the suburb of Welsh Row. In the interests of scenic accuracy, I may add some humble earthworks to the town's defences. The river is really a no-go area - effectively off the table. In the distance you can see Dorfold Hall, the home (if it matters) of Sir Roger Wilbraham and his family.

And here you are - Dorfold Hall. In the right background you can see Acton Church, which was the centre of the real battle of Nantwich.

The Church of St Mary, Acton - still standing today. Traditional thematic joke: note that Wellington's Tree appears here, visible behind the church tower - presumably this is Byron's Tree for the day.

Ah - now here's a problem - downstream of Nantwich, the next useful bridge is usually Beam Bridge, but the Nantwich garrison have demolished it, and a temporary bridge constructed by the Royalists has been wrecked in the flood caused by the thaw. This means that Lord John Byron, who has been half-heartedly besieging the town for a few weeks, has troops on both sides of the River Weaver, but no handy way of joining them together. [Historical spoiler alert] 

General view from the South-West - the relieving Parliamentary force, Tom Fairfax at the head, will arrive along the road from Chester and Delamere, which is at the left edge of the photo. There are a few enclosures, which are mostly a problem for Horse. The church is in the centre of the picture - beyond it is the farm at Henhull, with the thatched roofs; on the right is Dorfold Hall, with Nantwich in the far right corner.

***** Late Edit *****

Earthworks - I've been reading a few extra bits and pieces, and - despite protests from the Tourist Board - have now added some earthworks and a couple of "sconces" to the Welsh Row (western) section of Nantwich. The town had been under attack off and on for a year or so, and the governor, George Booth, had enthusiastically instigated a lot of work to strengthen the place. Here you see my attempt to fortify Welsh Row - viewed from inside and out, obviously with the help of a drone.

They would have heavy chains across the road-ends. The earth banks are by Fat Frank, can't remember where I got the gun emplacements. If you have exceptional eyesight you will see the town pillory on the edge of the suburb. I stopped short of flowerbeds, though it was a near thing.

There is more to be done. Tom Fairfax records that his forces came under fire from Royalist guns in "works" to the north of Acton Church, so I may have another look at that tomorrow.

******************* 

Eckau from Long Ago

So good we lost it twice.

Yesterday was a fighting day - we were re-playing the Battle of Eckau (July 1812),  of which I confess I had never heard before. The real battle has two alternative dates, depending on whose calendar you use - it was fought between Prussian and Russian forces at and around the small town of Gross Eckau (modern Iecava, in Latvia) - the Prussians, of course, were temporarily working as part of Marshal MacDonald's X Corps.

The real battle was fairly small (by our usual standards), and was won by the (real) Prussians. Yesterday's version was hosted by Count Goya, at his castle up in the remote Arctic, so Stryker and I arrived to do our bit to make a mockery of history.

The soldiers were all from Goya's collection, and he had set up the scenario so that we had something like a 1:1 representation of units present.

Goya's sketch map - North at the top (no Gregorian compasses)

The Order of Battle for the game was

Russians

8 battalions, each of 3 blocks

1 light cavalry regiment of 4 blocks

1 dragoon regiment of 4 blocks

2 foot artillery batteries

3 leaders

Prussians were split into 2 brigades - one on the east, one in the south west.

The east brigade consisted of:

3 line battalions, each of 4 blocks

1 light battalion of 4 blocks

1 light cavalry regiment of 3 blocks

1 horse artillery battery

1 leader

The south-west brigade was:

3 line battalions

1 dragoon regiment of 3 blocks

2 foot artillery batteries

2 leaders

Since this game does not lend itself well to a left-centre-right command system, we used the Ramekin variant of Commands & Colors:Napoleonics, which employs a dice-based activation system. We did not use the C&C Tactician cards. Stryker  took command of the Prussian "south-west" brigade, I controlled the "east" brigade, and Goya had the Russians.

The river was fordable at all points, troops in the water had the usual combat disadvantages. The victory target was 6 banners. No objective-based banners.

Stryker and I decided we would avoid the built-up areas as far as possible - the problem with Russian line infantry, you see, is that, though their units are fairly small, they are able to ignore 1 retreat flag (unquestioning valour or something), which makes them a formidable proposition in a town. Since the retreat flag exemption greatly reduced our chances of frightening them out of any of the bits of the town, we most certainly did not feel very optimistic about simply shooting them out of the place. Thus the grand master plan was that we would mostly ignore the town - I would steam down the road from the east with my brigade, to the north of the buildings, opposing the Russians' left flank, and Stryker would nip smartly across the fordable river, and take them from the other side. We envisaged a mighty meeting in the middle, like a meat grinder. We were also nervously aware, of course, that the scenario plan of splitting our force into two bits, with the looping flank attack from the East, immediately gave our opponents the central position which Napoleon would have recognised as the place to be. 

The meat grinder, alas, did not come to pass - my East Brigade was stopped and decimated disappointingly quickly, leaving my general helping out with a surviving horse battery, and Stryker never got across the river, so we lost very convincingly, and quite quickly, 6-1 on Victory Points. The Russian boys in the town were undisturbed, happily making turnip broth.

Russians in the town, very comfortable, thank you - we are looking north here

From the East, you can just see my brigade starting their march to glory - Stryker's brigade is just visible in the far left corner

There they are - just starting to march on to the corner - all they have to do is keep left and then cross the river

While my boys from the East are cracking on nicely

Here's a view from the south-west, with Brigade Stryker preparing to leap the River Iecava (not too chilly in July)

It didn't go very well at all - this is a (Warrior) Prussian battery, which was about my most effective unit

Back to the south-west, you see that Stryker has got nowhere near the river yet, while in the distance two of my battalions have taken so much damage from artillery that I can't do much more with them, my cavalry has vanished like snowballs in Hades, and another of my battalions is cut off on the hills and in serious trouble

Here they are, in fact, about  to be eliminated - miraculously, the general commanding survived and went to join the artillery battery

Yes - that's right - Stryker still can't get over the river - hmmm - maybe the town would have been easier...

General view from the East - the units with all the red counters are just standing watching - their orders are to avoid becoming more Victory Banners - if you have exceptional eyesight, you may spot a single white counter over in the far left corner - that is our one and only VB. By this point we had lost 6-1

The game ended quite early, so in the afternoon we tried it again. Same line up - the only changes to the scenario rules were that we reduced the Russian allocation of order chips each move (since in the morning they had had far more than they needed) and we allowed the Prussians three Iron Will counters, which allow an emergency cancellation of a Retreat Flag if all else fails. 

This time, the Prussians went for Plan B, which was to arrange for the East Brigade to get back over the river to the southern bank, join up with the South-West chaps, and attack the village in the approved manner. We actually gained just a little success this way, but not enough - we lost again, though this time the score was 6-3. You may decide for yourself if this is a worthwhile improvement. 

Righto - Take Two - Goya fishing in his Ramekin pot, looking for order chips

Some of Stryker's boys very quickly captured the southern-most part of the town. Gott in Himmel!

And my eastern chaps are splashing over the river to join in the fun. The two units with the blue order chips are about to be sent in against the nearest bit of the village (the Manor House, apparently) - the intention was that support would be arranged by the horse battery (currently in the river), but it didn't work out - not enough orders, and the horse artillery is disappointingly lightweight for bombarding towns.

Defeated again - this time by 6-3, but certainly defeated. Stryker's brave attack has run out of men, and further up the table you can see that my own attack on the built-up area just fizzled out

Excellent day - great lunch, good chat and a nice, interesting game. Many thanks to Goya, and compliments on the game design. Smaller armies gave a refreshing break from serried ranks of shoulder-to-shoulder. At the end, the Prussians had rather more space available than we needed. Things to note:

Russians are tough boys to flush out of a town.

Their artillery is very serious indeed.

I think we were using Russian dice.

More on the 1965 Waterloo War Game at the DoY's HQ, Chelsea

Many, many thanks to Jim Walkley, who found a report on the event in the April 1965 (?) Wargamer's Newsletter in his loft, and to Steve the Wargamer, who very kindly scanned it and sent me copies.

Steve has also sent a scan of the complete magazine to the WN Archives, which is only right and proper. If there is some copyright reason why it is illegal for me to put these scanned pages up here, please let me know and we can take it from there. On balance, I thought there was probably sufficient interest in this game, and sufficient time has elapsed since publication, to justify posting it here.

A few first thoughts from me:

* the date of 3rd March on the Alamy photos would appear to be incorrect
* so Wellington was Bob Gould! - Eric Knowles was Picton
* the game ran out of time - that's never happened before or since, has it?
* we can now fit names to faces
* that table looks bigger than 13ft6in to me!

Waterloo Wargame, Duke of York's Headquarters - 1965

Further to my previous reference to the 150th anniversary commemorative Waterloo game played at the Duke of York's HQ in Chelsea in 1965 (a good year for it, as I'm sure you'll agree, though I have some confusing idea that it took place in March, which would be less appropriate), David very kindly supplied a scan of the photos of the event which were included in Donald Featherstone's Advanced War Games - a book which I used to own, subsequently unloaded on eBay and never bothered to replace.

I have to say, right up front, that I have no right or permission to reproduce this picture, so if anyone is compromised or upset by its appearance here, please shout and I shall delete it.

The pictures mostly show the players on the French side - Tony Bath, who took the role of Napoleon, is in evidence, slightly to the right of centre in the two left-hand photos - as we look at the picture, Bath is on the right of the bald-headed man without glasses - he appears also on the right edge of the lower-right photo. The only hope I had of a glimpse of the other army's commanders was the middle image on the right side, but, having spent a little time working out the ground plan of the Hougoumont feature, I am pretty sure that is the end of the table, not the Mont St Jean side - the gentleman with the lapel badge and the opera glasses looks like an official player, though. Frustratingly, we can see the back view of the Allied commanders in the top-left photo.

As I understand it, Eric Knowles was Wellington for the day.

Not to worry - this is all I have for the moment. Does anyone recognise, or can you put names to, the people who are pictured, or even people known to have been there who are not pictured? I believe that the organisers were the British Model Soldier Society, though I am not very sure about that either - any clues, names, links or further photos would be very welcome. These chaps must have been well known at the time. I also read somewhere that the BMSS rather disapproved of wargaming, and thus a separate wargaming section was set up - round about 1965, in fact!

I am deeply impressed by the formal turn-out - even the schoolboys in the crowd wore ties - does that suggest official school parties, or did everyone wear ties then? In passing, the table looks to be about 24 feet x 6 feet - any views on that?

****** Late Edit ******

I was sent some links to these photos, which are definitely copyrighted by Alamy, though I understand that it is legal to download the preview versions (as I have done) for non-commercial purposes.

This is a larger version of one of the photos above, which gives a better view of the miniatures, and also reveals that the three participants here are (L to R) Ney, D'Erlon and Napoleon (T Bath)

And this is Eric Knowles, in uniform, no less, in his role of Wellington. Picture details give the date as 3rd March 1965

**************************

A Prestigious Occasion (Fighting Again)

Marshal Bessieres-Goya takes a personal interest in the efforts of the Old Guard gunners

On Wednesday I was delighted to attend the first recorded battle in Stryker's new Hinton Hut - excellent day all round. Stryker himself, The Archduke and Goya were all in attendance, and we fought a (fictional) Napoleonic battle, setting the forces of the Emperor (the French one, of course) against a coalition of Prussian, Russian and Austrian troops. All the figures present were from Stryker's own collection (and thus, it goes without saying, were all of faultless pedigree, being original, classic Hinton Hunts or very close approximations thereto throughout), and we used his excellent Muskets & Marshals rules.

The official report of the battle, with far better photos, appears on Stryker's own blog - my own short note here on the day's events is to give me an excuse to provide a few more pictures, to underline the beautiful spectacle of all those lovely old soldiers!

General view at commencement, from behind the French right

Apart from both sides taking advantage of a clear view for the artillery, this battle started with the customary bickering between respective skirmishers

Stryker's lovely Carabiniers - they did OK, but spent some time trying to rally from being disordered - there will be some questions asked...

And still the skirmishers are popping away - though the Prussian lads have rifles, the French had the lucky dice, so had the edge in this department

French light cavalry has an early success - note the thoroughness of the Prussian high command, who have the catalogue reference of every soldier written underneath, to facilitate rapid recruitment after days such as this

The French used the classic strategy of throwing everything in from the start (l'Ordre Imbecile) - here you see the big push developing - Napoleon on the white horse, checking that no-one is lagging behind

Although it didn't count for much in the long run, we had an early disappointment in the performance of the Guard light cavalry 

Our very smart light cavalry of the line - if you look carefully you will see they are being pursued by some enemy cuirassiers...

Crunch time - our brilliant sledge-hammer tactics hit the Prussian line...

While the French Carabiniers upset some more enemy cavalry

To the stupefaction of the French command, the big attack succeeded right along the line...

As may be obvious by this point, I was Napoleon, for reasons too circumstantial to dwell upon, and I am pleased to say that we (Marshal Bessieres-Goya and I) scraped a win - aided by the excellent calibre of our troops and our customary, astoundingly streaky, dice rolls. My thanks to my colleagues for their excellent company, and to the Stryker family for their hospitality - the Hut, I would say, is a great success. Even in a Scottish December we were comfortable and well insulated, and the game, of course, was marvellous.

I must also add that Napoleon was very briefly exposed to the risk  of being wounded at the end of the action, but survived unscathed. Always good publicity to be seen to be in some danger, even if the risk is mostly theoretical - the Emperor's marketing people were very pleased with the day.