The Emperor has personal command of his reserve of the Imperial Guard
This weekend I was honoured and delighted to be invited to the celebrations connected with the coming of age of the esteemed Baron Von Stryker, which featured a splendid wargame. I was especially honoured to be asked to assume the role of the Emperor Napoleon, a man I have not seen on the battlefield since I was stretchered from the grounds of Hougoumont, almost exactly 201 years ago.
The event was especially notable for the fabulous cast of vintage Hinton Hunt figures, and will certainly be featured in more worthy blogs than this one - I note that Matt has already put some fine photos up on his. I felt I should take the opportunity to thank my comrades on the day for their company and - especially - to thank our most generous hosts for their hospitality in setting up a very enjoyable occasion.
Wall-to-wall Hinton Hunt - initial French view of our right flank...
...and our left.
An eclectic mix of Coalition forces - the valiant Silesian Landwehr, a mixed unit of British marines and sailors, some Swedes...
Massive cavalry attack on the left flank, in which we did well
The battle for the churchyard, in which we were rather less successful - I am delighted that this picture could have been borrowed from Charles Grant's "Napoleonic Wargame"
The final assault in the centre, featuring the Guard - if this failed we did not have a lot to fall back on, as you see
...since we were rather stuck at the church...
...but, as a result of flawless scripting, the Old Guard defeated the British Foot Guards and just about secured a victory which had looked much more of a forgone conclusion a few hours earlier. Now, Maitland - where the blazes are you?
It would be unkind to criticise the Telegraph - that's a bit like criticising someone's senile auntie - but misinformation (a fashionable commodity in these pre-Referendum days in Britain) is always a bit hard to stomach, and I thought I'd speak up on behalf of those poor people in London, who may be being misled again.
I was looking around for details about the construction of the Channel Tunnel, including numerical data - cubic yards of rock shifted, how long it took - all that. I found some interesting stuff, including a couple of good articles on the Telegraph's website. In the middle of one of the articles, up popped the advert at the top of this post. I realise that newspapers have to suck people into things like fake opinion polls, to score some advertising revenue from some completely irrelevant supplier.
However, I thought the questions were kind of interesting - mostly because they made me wonder whether there are any grown-ups working in the marketing area at the Telegraph. I can see that the construction of the Tunnel was quite an achievement, though I'll duck any further discussion about who the Telegraph thinks might be coming through it at the moment; don't get me started on the London Bloody Olympics, which was yet another bulk transfer of funds from the Provinces to the capital, with the odd personal fortune for Lord Snooty and His Pals thrown in; the one which caught my eye was question 3.
Just a minute - Britain won the Rugby World Cup? I didn't think Britain had ever entered the Rugby World Cup, though I do recall England winning it. Don't tell me the Braying Jeremies at Twickers read the Telegraph?
I gather this advert predates the most recent Rugby World Cup. Anyway, no matter.
Classic Old School 20mm? - everyone has their own favourite figures - this is certainly one of mine. Bill Lamming's Royal Scots Greys trooper, circa 1970. Off-hand, I would also list the Minifigs/Alberken Brunswick-Oels, the early (20mm) Garrison French infantry with the bayonet stuck up high in the air, and any number of Hinton Hunts - the Old Guard and some of the OPC cavalry, especially the charging French lancer. This must have a lot to do with all those hours spent gazing at the pictures in the Featherstone and Charles Grant books...
I’ve got a lot to do to get my Spanish Army
back on schedule, but, to my surprise, I find I suddenly have a distraction I
really didn’t expect. However, I’m pleased with it.
A couple of weeks ago there was a batch of
unpainted, vintage Lamming French dragoons up for auction on eBay, and I put in
a bid, though I most certainly have more than enough French dragoons. It wasn’t
a very serious bid, and it quickly became obvious that someone wanted these
more than I did, so I watched the price rise away past what I would have paid
for them – I was calm and not troubled at all, but it got me thinking about
Lamming figures.
Lamming are an enigma – the early figures
are very pleasing, and right on the old “true 25mm” scale, but later much of
the range was remodelled, bigger and often uglier. Normally I shy away from
Lamming lots in auctions because you never know quite what you’re getting –
I’ve called a few wrong, to my cost. Then, this week, there were some painted
Lamming Scots Greys on eBay, and I liked the look of them – the photo showed
that the listing also include some Miniature Figurines cavalry, and confirmed
that the Lamming Greys were OK for size for my armies.
I decided what I thought they were worth,
put in a moderate bid, and was very surprised to get an email telling me I had
won them. They arrived within about 48 hours, nicely packed.
Now let’s be clear about this – I used to
have a unit of Scots Greys. They were lovely, they were Phoenix Model
Developments figures, I converted the officer and the trumpeter from PMD
helmeted British Dragoons, and – apart from the standard, silly Les Higgins
horses – they really were most attractive. Problem was that I had no wish to
fight Waterloo, the Greys were no use at all for my Peninsular OOB, and – as
part of my commitment to replacing my heavy dragoons with proper,
bicorne-wearing fellows, I was persuaded to put them up for sale on eBay – this
must be 6 or 7 years ago, I guess. I was confident they would go for a decent
price, but it all went a bit wrong. Maybe it was the week everyone was watching
the cricket on TV or something, but my Gorgeous Greys went out with a whimper -
sold for the opening bid of £11.99, to a lady in Sussex who had a gift shop.
I was upset! I never quite got over it – I
didn’t really want the figures, but the low selling price was somehow
insulting. Serves me right, anyway – a fool and his soldiers are soon parted –
if Confucius didn’t say that then he should have.
So, as from Wednesday, I have a replacement
for my unnecessary Scots Greys, and I am pleased with them, though I’m not sure
when they will get into action, and for the time being they will live in the
Allied Odd Bods box. I had several attempts to decide what to do with them –
stick them in the spares box, and one day strip them and repaint them? – that
was my first idea.
But you know what? – these are old figures,
they have been together since about 1970, and someone painted them a long time
ago, rather better than I could ever have painted them. I decided to keep them
as they are – clean them up a bit and retouch here and there – in particular,
put fresh white paint on the crossbelts and gloves and plumes. I even chose to
repair a couple of damaged swords and keep them at the original strength of 12,
which is contrary to all known house standards (all my other cavalry regiments
have 10).
Here they are - some toys from another age - a little weathered, and a couple of S-Range command interlopers, but they are the business, aren't they?
Twelve cavalry in two rows, on a heavy
cavalry frontage of 25mm per figure, will fit nicely on one of my standard
sized light cavalry sabots, as it happens, and I can decide later whether the
extra figures will gain them any additional clout in action – I suspect not.
They are ready for a temporary home in the
Odd Bods box now – the officer and the trumpeter are Miniature Figurines
S-Range, though Lamming had both of these in his range – in fact the cornet
with the flag is a converted Lamming officer (BC/6) – all the rest are
Lamming’s RSG trooper (BC/2), as illustrated in the Gallery on the VINTAGE20MIL
website. They are not beautiful, but I’m pleased to have them.
After charging ahead with my 1809 Spanish Army for a while, everything screeched to a halt in November - to a large extent this was simply because an illness in the family left me with very little spare time, but it was also a consequence of what I am now rather ashamed to refer to as The Great Sulk - of which I shall say more later.
Today I am delighted to welcome the first newly painted Spanish unit of the year - this is the 3rd of what will be 4 Foot Artillery batteries suitable for 1809. These were excellently painted by my rather shadowy friend Francisco Goya (does he paint in a mask? - hmmm), and they are not only a valuable addition to the available forces, but also (I hope) an important step towards ending the Sulk.
The figures are mostly by GB Miniatures, one of the Hagen family of 1/72 makers (mastered by the estimable Massimo), with a couple of NapoleoN boys and one Falcata. The guns are Hagen's own.
One slightly tricky aspect of putting together a gun-crew is the combination of poses - I try to make this sensible, but manufacturers are very enthusiastic about having the rammers ramming, the firers firing etc - everybody depicted doing what it is he does - but having them all do it at the same time would upset the Health & Safety boys more than a little. I'm not too fussy about this - I have enough artillery crews of old Minifigs and similar which made a point of having the rammer portrayed making an attempt to have his arms blown off, so getting snippy about it at this stage would be rather silly. I do try to keep an eye on things, though.
The Sulk.
Ah, well. You see, last year I suddenly found myself in the position where I was going to have to go back to doing all my own painting, and this after a period when I had been using the services of painters who were both quicker and far more skilful than I. I decided the only thing to do was to bite the bullet and crack on, by myself, so as not to lose momentum (momentum, at my age, being a precious thing).
I did pretty well, painting away, good-style, and listening to a lot of Fauré, but I was obviously going to need more outside support in the painting department. I renewed my acquaintance with Philgreg, the painting service based in Sri Lanka.
I had previous with Philgreg - I had found that they produced an acceptable result (unbelievably cheaply, even allowing for postage costs) if I provided an exact painted sample of what I wanted - I would get back pretty good facsimiles of what I sent them. The occasions when things went a bit wonky were when I required them to work from verbal descriptions, or - I suspect - when they were unusually busy, when an observable dip in quality suggested to me that some of the painting crew were less experienced, or fringe players in a team pool. My first attempts to get Philgreg involved again last year went pretty well - I required them only to provide rank-and-file, in fairly simple uniforms, and the amount of rework I had to do to get the finished figures to a decent quality was acceptable - the cost of the outsource work was good for the effort saved. If they produced 85%-finished figures, it was worth the money.
Their approach is businesslike, and the main man (Philip) is helpful and easy to deal with. The idea is that they send you photos of samples, to show you how your shipment is progressing, to make sure you are happy. Apart from a rather high proportion of broken figures, this went OK - for the first such shipment. Then - lulled into a foolish over-confidence - I sent a rather more complicated job.
First ominous sign was I got no sample pictures, and got no progress report at all until I chased them. The figures arrived back, painted, and they weren't good. One battalion took me about a week of evenings to rescue, but it turned out well. The other battalion that came back was worse. In all honesty, they aren't really so bad - I reckon that another week of fairly dedicated evenings would put them into very good shape indeed, but somehow I haven't been able to bring myself to do it. I have been more depressed by this (relatively minor) reverse than I should have been - I have put the figures, on their bottletops, carefully in a box, ready to start work, and then I have hidden in a hole in the ground. I have found Other Things to Do. Sulking. Lamentable behaviour.
With this new artillery unit I hope I can get myself motivated again - a good slap around the head, a cup of decent coffee, some appropriate painting music on the old Bose and I should be back in business. There you are - I've said it on the blog - I'm duty bound to shape up now.
As befits one who might be (charitably)
described as verbose, I love language – I am entranced by it – fascinated by
it. Not in a useful, academic way, but in a more generalised, gosh-just-look-at-that
sort of way.
I am besotted with etymology, with connections
between languages, ancient and modern, origins of sayings or colloquialisms,
dialects, unusual or outmoded words – I even have a great fondness for slang,
and children’s verbal traditions, and where
it all comes from. One great, unexpected bonus I got from my reading about the
ECW was exposure to the writing and spelling of the 17th Century –
before standardised spellings, people would write what they said, or what they
thought others said, which is alarming to the newcomer but gives us an
insight into how spoken English must have sounded at that time, and the
regional (and, I suppose, class-related) variations in this.
Take a look at the lovely maps of John
Speed, from the period around 1610 – check the spellings of the place names –
and, of course, the names themselves. Try to imagine where Speed got these
names from – from older maps? – Domesday Book? - from local people? – somewhere else?
I have here CS Terry’s book on the life and
campaigns of Alexander Leslie – that’s Lord Leven to you and me – sometime
Field Marshal in the service of Gustavus Adolphus, later the guiding light of
the Covenanter armies. There is much of his correspondence – with the spellings
of the day, we can very quickly spot a Scottish speaker from the phonetic way
he writes – much of it is still familiar and recognisable.
I understand that language has always
changed and evolved, with migration, colonisation, education and religious
influences, and – always – with fashion. Obviously, if language never changed,
everybody around here in Lowland Scotland would still be speaking Old
Brythonic, and I doubt if a single word of that ancient language is still in
common use here. And – just a minute – Brythonic must have replaced something older.
Like all change, there is a strict limit on the extent to which we can restrict
it to what we, subjectively, regard as constructive, or acceptable. We may
fight against it or lament it – the educators and the clerics and even the
government may try to direct it, but speech is, by its nature, just a flow - the
currency of the street, the market, the home, the newspaper (OMG) – it evolves,
for the most part, on its own, and the rate of change is accelerating, as the
world shrinks and its communications technology moves further into overkill.
Fashions come and go – most of them we
probably don’t even notice. To be honest, to offer a couple of examples, I
could have managed nicely without the Valley Girls, or the infuriating “Ya?” of
the Yuppie Years, or the idiotic fashion for forcing a rising cadence into
everyday speech, so that a statement sounds like a question (the usual
explanation for this is that it is a sort of running comprehension check – it’s
also usually blamed on the Australians, though I’m sure that’s unfair). I am
disgusted by the way in which the worthwhile ancient word “like” has been
converted into some insane form of punctuation – here’s a commonplace example –
this is top model, Jamie Gunns, being interviewed – seems a nice girl, but what
on earth is she talking about? Anyone have any observations on educational and
cultural decline in the UK?
I am, you must understand, someone who
insists on sending text messages which are grammatically correct, solidly
punctuated and free of acronyms – I even have the predictive support switched
firmly off. Why? I hate to think why – perhaps, in my sad little way, I am fighting
some lost cause. Pompous ass. I also have to confess that exposure to US spellcheckers on my Mackintosh has rather dulled my awareness of English vs
American spelling – I used to be very sniffy about this, but now I’m no longer
sure which version I meant. Perhaps this is progress?
Which brings me – having choked off a whole
lot more of the same – to the word “so”.
I have a bad history with “so”. There was a
fashion for extended spelling – presumably to denote a lengthened syllable, or an
element of gushing – as in “sooooo cute” and similar, seen everywhere (literally ad nauseam) on
Facebook. Then there was a bizarre construct which gave us expressions like
“that was so fun”, or, as I once heard, “that is so not the right thing to do”.
These seem to have calmed down a little – maybe they became So Last Year?
Whatever, “so” is back with a vengeance,
though it seems to have become “SO”.
In the mornings, I like to wake up to BBC
Radio 4; it maintains some of the better traditions of the BBC – news and
comment on current affairs are presented by intelligent, articulate speakers
who do not pretend to be my best mates, offer me celeb gossip or update me on
what is trending and threatens to leave me behind. So far so good – the problem
is the guests. And it’s usually educated, expert guests – spokespersons for
action groups, consultants, political mouthpieces, know-alls of every shape and
colour.
It’s a formula. When asked a question, the
response begins with the word SO, followed by a meaningful pause, and then comes
a prepared answer. What are they doing? Does “SO” mean “this is an
authoritative reply, so shut up and listen”, or does it mean “I am so
intelligent that I recognise that you have asked me a question, and I am now
going into Answer Mode”, or does it mean “ah yes – I have a piece of paper here
somewhere with the answer written on it”, or what? Why is it infuriating? Why
does it make me shout at the radio so early in the morning?
SO - here's a woman in a hat visiting the Radio 4 Studio
Is it because it’s a learned affectation,
and because the affectations of others are always more annoying than our own?
Do these people get instructed how to do this? – do they go to classes to
perfect it? – do they practise in front of the mirror? – did they once hear
someone who did this, and were so impressed that they decided to adopt it
immediately?
To be honest, I couldn’t care less why they
do it, but I sincerely wish the fashion would die out quickly – my blood
pressure readings in the morning would benefit. In fact, the way language
evolves is sneaky anyway – if SO really is here to stay as a permanent change
to protocols of spoken interaction, then presumably I will start doing it
myself, and I won’t be annoyed any more. Or should we fight back? At the
moment, roaring “SO WHAT?” before the rest of the answer follows is a bit
childish, but it serves to remind me that there is a point at stake here, and
my radio doesn’t seem to get offended.
My previous post identified the 25mm scale model I propose to use for Napoleon's 24pdrs in his siege train in Spain. So the next obvious question I have to ask myself is, "How many of these will I need?", which leads on to a pile of more general questions about what the siege train consisted of in real history.
Having thought about it for a while, I have decided that a rather pleasant way to educate myself on this topic is to re-read (and this time complete!) Donald D Horward's wonderful Napoleon and Iberia, with extra detail and nuts-and-bolts OOBs and equipment lists supplied from an ebook of Belmas' Sieges which I have here.
I am still assembling the bits and pieces to set about this, and am doing some preliminary poking about - just to get a feel for the subject. The French siege train is not brilliantly documented, unless you really dig for it. Horward's book is concerned with the French sieges of Ciudad Rodrigo and Almeida in 1810, but if you look up the siege of Ciudad Rodrigo on Google all you will find is Wellington's successful siege in 1812.
In 1810, the French force before Ciudad Rodrigo consisted of Marshal Ney's (augmented) VI Corps, comprising the three infantry divisions of Marchand, Mermet and Loison, with a minimal cavalry force of one small light brigade under Lamotte, and with VI Corps' own artillery, commanded by General de Brigade Charbonnel, of 3 foot companies and 2 of horse - that's one foot battery for each infantry division, one horse battery for the cavalry and one horse battery as a reserve.
Charbonnel - commander of VI Corps' own artillery
In addition, attached to Ney, was the siege train of the Armée de Portugal, arrived from France, and equipped with 50 guns.
General Eblé - in charge of all the artillery of the Armée de Portugal, including the siege train
Here's the French OOB:
Belmas gives a lot of detail about the siege train - including the returns of it's commander, General Eblé - this covers how many roundshot and shells were fired, how many kilos of powder used, how many gabions used and so on and so on. For the moment, I shall merely note that the 50 guns consisted of 10 canons de 24, 7 canons de 16, 12 canons de 12, 8 obusiers (24pdr howitzers, I deduce from the returns of consumption of ammo), 4 mortiers de 12p, 3 mortiers de 8p, 4 mortiers de 6p and 2 pierriers (did they really fire rocks?). Again, I'm feeling my way here, but I gather the mortars are measured in pouces, so that a mortier de 8p is an 8-inch piece (approximately).
The siege train has seven identified companies of Artillérie à Pied - I have no idea (at this stage, anyway) whether these were kept as distinct "battery" units, or whether the personnel were mixed. Seven companies would be a sensible way of organising 50 guns anyway, so I have assumed that the artillery of VI Corps was available over and above the 50 pieces of the siege train.
I was surprised at the high proportion of 12pdr guns in the siege train - this suggests that the 7 companies might break down into something like:
2 batteries of heavy siege guns (24pdrs and 16pdrs), 2 of 12pdrs, 1 of howitzers and 2 of mortars. Adding a large sprinkle of wargamer's licence, I propose to make that 3 units of big guns (at 2 gun models per unit), 1 of howitzers and 2 of mortars. I already have plenty of 12pdrs with my field army, if they are needed - this would also make the French siege train a bit smaller than the Allied one.
That's a first stab, so I should order a further 5 of the big MALA3 castings from Miniature Figurines for my 24pdrs. I may change my mind again, once I get another chapter further into Horward. This is the sort of little project I like - books with post-it tabs sticking out everywhere, lots of scribbled notes - excellent.
The siege train of the Armée de Portugal didn't last very long - it was captured as part of the 158 French and Spanish guns taken in Ciudad Rodrigo when Wellington took the place back in 1812.
Thanks very much for the various suggestions received for siege gun castings. Special thanks to Mr S Wargamer, of Hampshire, who drew to my attention item MALA3 in the current Miniature Figurines 25mm catalogue - officially described as a Marlburian siege gun.
So I imported one to try it out. It looks as close to a 24pdr Vallière system gun, such as would have been used by the French in the Peninsula, as I think I'm going to get without having something specially made. The wheels are 21.5mm diameter, which is correct for 1/72 scale - I included some spare NapoleoN gunners to give the idea. Looks pretty good, I think? The Vallière guns were some 75 years out of date by the Napoleonic wars, but the big siege bangers were well down the queue for modernisation - the Gribeauval principles of light weight and standardised parts didn't really suit the heaviest stuff. Which means, I guess, that this gun could take part in a siege at any time from about 1690 to 1830, for any number of nations - a coat of dirty olive green paint and no-one will know the difference. Once I have it painted, I'll photograph it next to one of the British iron siege guns, for comparison - but don't hold your breath.
I have to say that the gun was fiddly to assemble - casting was not brilliant, so a lot of cleaning up of the pieces was needed, and supergluing the little plates to attach the trunnions is exciting - do not sneeze. Mission accomplished, anyway, so if a klutz like me can manage it, it must be plain sailing.
I'll have a look at this for a few days - if I still like it, I'll order up another seven of the things - that's enough for 4 batteries, and I'll start looking around for howitzers and mortars to suit - better read up on my pdf copy of Belmas to check what they had in the train. I'll also need more gunners - I have some spares, but not enough. I am a little shaken to see that the Art Miniaturen range seems to have been cut down a bit - at least it looks that way on the new website - so I may be looking at multiple sets of the cheap-and-cheerful Kennington gunners to make up the crews.
And yes - thank you - I do realise that the silly little rammer/sponge is not going to serve that monster very well, so less of the vulgar humour, if you don't mind...
