Boom!

It is an unfortunate side effect of the history of historiography that we compartmentalise the past into different eras. Thus we get, as a hang-over from, perhaps, Victorian history, the terms ‘ancient’, ‘medieval’ or ‘middle ages’ and ‘modern’. Exactly how these are defined depends a lot on how your own view of history goes, which depends on where you are located, both geographically and culturally.

To explain a little more and I suspect I might have banged on about this a bit before, if you are in the Anglo-American historical tradition, and vaguely Victorian (or perhaps Whiggish in your historiography) the ‘medieval’ period came to an end in 1485, when Henry Tudor defeated Richard III on the field of battle at Bosworth. Everything after that is ‘modern’, or, at least, if you refine your categories, ‘early modern’. Thus you get the natural progression from Henry VII to his son, the Reformation (a necessary precursor to modern capitalistic liberalism), the glories of Elizabeth I and the founding of the Empire, the assertion of the rights of Parliament over Monarch in the Seventeenth Century, followed by the inevitable assertion of the English speaking peoples as a world power.

The problem is that the world looks rather different from other perspectives. 1485 does not mark a particular break in most histories. For example (you will be expecting this, I am sure) in 1485 Spain was part of the way through the final Reconquista of Granada. The date marks, in that history, the central point of a process, not its end. I dare say that the same issue could be taken up in many other national and regional histories. The past is continuous, not punctuated with boundaries which we, as human beings, like to impose. As with the classification of biological species, we get objects of history or plants which do not fit into our neat categories. From the point of view of Anglo-American historiography, the aforementioned Reconquista is one of these.

The problem with the final Reconquista is, therefore, that it has largely been ignored in historiography in English. This is a shame because it actually strengthens the case for some of the ideas about military revolutions which are floating around. That is, there is a strong argument that the Reconquista was, essentially, dependent on gunpowder. Granada had, after all, held out for centuries before the Fourteen Eighties. For the conquest to be achieved in around a decade should raise a few eyebrows, at least.

I have been reading again, this time a key paper aimed at putting the Reconquista back on the military history map:

Cook, W. F., 'The Cannon Conquest of Nasrid Spain and the End of the Reconquista', The Journal of Military History 57, no. 1 (1993), 43-70.

Cook argues that the key point of the Reconquista was, exactly, the acquisition and use of cannon in the sieges of Grenadine fortresses. These fortresses had been, up to that point, fairly immune to siege. The difficulty of logistics compounded the geographical strength on the position, often on hills with large walls and strong citadels. The garrisons could hold out for long enough for the central authorities to raise an army (Granada had a core standing army) and march to the relief of the place, usually when the supplies of the besiegers were running low.

The only alternative was to take places by surprise and this is what happened at the start of the final war. The Grenadines surprised Zahara and, in retaliation the Marquis of Cadiz took Alhama, not quite so much by surprise but certainly decisively. Going by the script, the Grenadine army marched to the relief of the place, arrived too late, and settled to recapture it by siege despite the lack of equipment. The Duke of Medina Sidonia marched, despite his feud with the Marquis, to its relief, arriving, in accordance with the drama of the events, in the nick of time and effecting a battlefield (or siege line, in this case) reconciliation with his enemy.

So far, so normal. The Grenadines returned and the place had to be relieved again. The next year Ferdinand attempted to take Loja, to open communications with Alhama and failed. Yet something changed in 1483 according to Cook. Ferdinand’s army, again on the march to relieve Alhama, used cannon to attack castles and outlying fortresses on the way. Lighter artillery swept the battlements and repelled any sallies by the garrison. Heavy pieces battered the walls. The way to Alhama was secured but, more importantly, Ferdinand and his artillerymen had learnt about the power of concentrated cannon fire.

From 1484 the Castilian strategy was to take fortresses using heavy cannon fire. The Grenadines had little by way of an answer to this, as there seems to have been little in the way of production of gunpowder or artillery within the Grenadine state. Christian supplies were, at times, parlous enough, but the coast of Granada was sealed by the Aragonese and Castilian fleets, preventing supplies and reinforcements arriving. While the Grenadine garrisons did have artillery pieces, these tended to be in fixed positions and could be (relatively) easily disabled.

In short, until Granada was clearly defeated in 1489, Ferdinand and his armies blasted their way through the kingdom. While the Grenadine state had its problems, particularly with internal feuding, these were not decisive. After all, most states on the Iberian Peninsula had had similar feuding and had not fallen, including Granada itself. Cook argues strongly that the decisive difference was the Castilian use of cannon.

And so we loop back to the arguments about the gunpowder military revolution. Cook notes that Parker, even though a historian of Spain, does not give the Reconquista a part in his military revolution, even though, in terms of gunpowder and increasing size of army it fits the bill. Other historians regard the arrival of highly effective Spanish forces in Italy in the 1490s as remarkable, as if they had just dropped, fully armed and organised, from the heavens. This seems to be an artefact of our categorisation of the periods of history: the Reconquista was ‘medieval’ while the early Italian Wars are ‘early modern’. The Reconquista was, in fact, an important training ground for Spanish forces and a springboard to their later success.

Saved by the Enemy

‘I say, the serving girl is a rather comely wench, do you not think?’

The bodyguard cleared his throat. ‘Yes, sire.’

‘What time do you think she gets off? Mind you, she might not mind for a king.’

The bodyguard drew his dagger and quietly placed it on the table.

‘What are you up to?’

‘Following orders, sire. The queen was very specific that you were to be prevented from any dalliance along the way to Castilo Al-Hambra. We have them in writing, that any flesh which delays or distracts you must be removed.’

‘Surely you would not stab a working girl just because….?’

‘No, sire. It would not be the girl we would be removing parts from.’

‘Ah.’

‘Your Majesty! Your Majesty! News! News! The Grenadine army is ahead.’

‘Saved by the enemy, eh soldier?’

‘Possibly, sire. Possibly’

*

My loyal reader will recall that Queen Isabella had persuaded King Ferdinand to relieve the Castle of Al-Hambra, and might even be wondering as to what happened next. A simple dice roll decided that the Granadine army, rather than risking an ambush (with a dodgy timetable for arrival) or permitting the Castilians to get to Al-Hambra, decided to fight a defensive battle along the way. After some fairly useless terrain rolling, I decided that the Grenadines would defend a ridge by Ferdinand’s road, and force the Castilians to fight.

The set – up looked like this.

The Grenadine army are nearest the camera, atop their ridge, with an enclosure to the right, occupied by crossbowmen. Their plan is to skirmish with their jinites to left and right to prevent any outflanking while the infantry stay on top of the hills (which you can just make the outlines of out on the photograph) with the general and the cavalry in reserve. The crossbowmen, of which you can see five bases, are newly painted Baccus figures (see, I do paint!), the rest are Irregular, save for a base of Heroics and Ros (three manufacturers on one table, wow! A small prize of internet kudos will go to the spotter of the H & R base from the photo).

Ferdinand’s plan was to demonstrate on his left with skirmishing. Given the nature of the Reconquista, I decided that rather than have crossbowman and handgunners both on skirmish order and closer order bases, I would simply permit both types to skirmish. Given the model of skirmishing in the rules, this seems to work, and the order system can determine which bases are in skirmish order. The main Castilian punch would go in on the right, with two gendarme bases and a jinite, supported by a firepower heavy infantry attack on the Grenadine left.

The next picture shows the battle as it developed, from the Castilian left or Grenadine right.

In the far distance, you can see that the Castilian right has taken a bit of a pummelling, with both gendarme bases being recoiled and shaken by some vigorous skirmishing and a crossbow base hitting home. On the right centre the Castilian firepower is starting to make its presence felt, but not without cost as the Castilian spears have recoiled. Nearer at hand, the right-wing Grenadine jinites have been suffering a bit, but in the bigger picture, it did not matter much at this stage as the Castilians were not aiming to push on this flank.

A turn or two later and it has all gone pear-shaped for the Grenadines.

While the Castilian gendarmes on the right are even more ropey than they were, the Castilian jinites have seen off their opposite number, and the infantry assault has gone in on the Grenadine left. Superior Castilian firepower has done the rest (the close assault was, in fact, beaten off). On the Grenadine right the Castilian jinites have seen off their opposite numbers, while right in the middle, you will note, Ferdinand and his base of gendarmes have seen off the Grenadine commander and his base of cavalry.

If has to be admitted that the Castilians were lucky. Ferdinand assaulted uphill and got his charge home, rather against the odds. He was held in the first round of combat but thereafter just about edged it. Similarly, the Castilian jinites just edged out their opponents, aided and abetted on their left by some crossbowmen. Still, the Grenadines, although their morale was still good, were clearly overwhelmed and conceded the game, having lost six bases and the general to the Castilian none. The battle, however, was not as one-sided as those numbers imply.

By comparison with Polemos: SPQR skirmishers are very effective in WotCR. I am still pondering why. Firstly, I think that WotCR has a lot fewer tempo points around per base, so making counteracting the effects of skirmish ‘lucky’ rolls more difficult to counter. Secondly, I noticed that the CRT for ranged combat has no ‘halt’ outcome, which SPQR has. WotCR goes straight to ‘recoil’ and two recoils make a shaken. Once a base is shaken, recovery is harder and additional damage easier. So I think I might restore the ‘halt’ status to the CRT, or possibly add a separate skirmisher column.

*

‘I think we did rather well there.’

‘Yes, sire.’

‘I think perhaps we should have a little reward, a little entertainment.’

‘What sort of entertainment, sire?’

‘Well, say, did that serving girl accompany the train? I’m sure an hour or two in her company would help me relax. After all, it was my charge that won the battle, you know. Heroism should have its compensations.’

‘What sort of entertainment did His Majesty have in mind?’ The guard unsheathed his dagger.

‘I am sure the Queen’s orders do not cover such eventualities. I mean, Castilo Al-Hambra is more or less relieved. Just a little stroll in the park tomorrow and the job will be done. Just a little, um, amusement, in advance, won’t hurt.’

‘The Queen’s instructions are very specific, My Lord. No such entertainment until you have relieved the castle and returned to her lodgings when she will see to your relaxation personally.’

‘None?’

‘No, sire. I believe we have some soldiers who can play musical instruments and some who can sing. We can order them in for your entertainment. I believe they have been practising a medley of martial airs.’

‘Actually, I think I might retire. It has been a busy day….’

Polemos: SPQR Clarifications

Polemos: SPQR Clarifications

JWH has asked a few questions on PM: SPQR so I thought I’d have a bash at answering them here. The answers are not guaranteed – time, writing other rules, changing my thinking, and my own encroaching lack of familiarity with the rules might have changed some things.

I recently played a game of PM:SPQR and was a bit surprised by some of the rules. compared to more recent rules I have written, there are an awful lot of tempo points around, which changes the balance. particularly for skirmishers, quite a lot. I am still pondering....

Pursuit:

What exactly is the pursuit rule in Polemos SPQR? There doesn't appear to be a place in the rules where everything is described together but as far as I can make out...

1 - Light Horse, Cavalry and Tribal Foot which rout their target must pursue in the next movement phase. Other troops can choose whether to pursue or not.

Yes, p. 33.

2 - As routing bases move in their next (and subsequent) movement phases, it is possible that the pursuing base will catch the routed base. What happens in these circumstances?

3 - Routed bases "move as fast as possible" which I think should be 3BW for anyone on a horse, 2 BW for anyone on foot. How fast do pursuing bases move? Does this change over time

The idea is that routed bases move at 3 BW for mounted, 2 BW on foot – note that they will have recoiled first in most cases as well, putting them 3.5 or 2.5 BW away from the pursuers – and they don’t slow down. Pursuing bases go at top speed for the first move, one BW less for the next and so on until they are moving at 1 BW. There is no effect of pursuers contacting already routed bases.

4 - Pursuing bases get 2 "terrain" (i.e. not from casualties) shaken levels when "rallying from pursuit". Do the bases get shaken from the moment they begin pursuing or from the moment they begin rallying?

From starting to pursue; it is to represent the disorder of the ‘tally ho’ moment. If the pursuers are contacted while pursuing, they are in some trouble, which seems about right.

5 - If routing bases contact a friendly base that they cannot burst through, the base is removed. What do pursuing bases do at that point?

Carry on pursuing. Just because the base is removed, that simply means it no longer even remotely looks like a coherent body running away. It doesn’t mean that there is no-one to pursue.

Foot Skirmishing:

6 - Foot skirmishers have a range of 2BW. They may move 1BW towards or away from their targets in their movement bound but must pay TPs to do so if they move do not remain in ranged combat range (i.e. 2BW). But this means that foot skirmishers are always in charge range of even foot opponents - is this intended?

Yes. The secret is, therefore, not to skirmish foot with foot skirmishers. I think I would change the eligibility to charge unshaken enemies to only cavalry, chariots and tribal foot now, and I’m not sure about chariots.

Charging:

7 - "Bases moving into charge range of legitimate targets must declare a charge". Is it intended that this should take place immediately the base moves into charge range, or done in the next player phase?

Next phase.

8 - If the charge does not happen, then must the opposing side declare a charge in its turn or not? Does this differ depending upon whether the opposing side's base is halted or advancing?

No, they don’t have to counter charge and no, it doesn’t matter if they are halted or advancing.

9 - Roman legionaries are rubbish at charging (typically factor 0, +1 for being armoured versus +2 for tribal foot/auxilia enemies, +4 for pike enemies). Is it intended that the Romans, when advancing, should move within 2BW - declare a charge next turn, probably fail - if the opposition does not launch its own charge, the legionaries then advance towards the opposition and (hopefully) simply advance to contact?

It isn’t really intended that the legionaries should charge at all – only in exceptional cases do they appear to have done so (Caesar at Pharsalus is the only case I can think of). Hence the rule change I noted above for charge eligibility. The Romans’ best tactic, I think, is simply to advance, not declare a charge (rule change q. v.) hope to hold the barbarians on the first turn of combat and then hit back in the second. A second line of legionaries is always useful in these circumstances.

Ranged Combat:

10 - In the ranged combat example on p.29, is the -1 modifier "for each extra base shooting at the same target" misapplied? Surely there is no extra base shooting at Parthians-1 & Parthians-2 and what should have happened is that Romans-1 fires at either Parthians1 or Parthians-2? Or alternatively, Romans-1 and Romans-2 fire together at Parthians-2 only, and then the modifier is applied?

Yes, somehow that factor got badly mangled between writing, proof reading and printing – I’ve no idea how that happened, or where. Anyway, the ‘-1 each extra base shooting at the same target’ (p. 27 ranged combat) does not apply in the p, 29 example. If the Parthians were shooting back, one of the Roman bases would get a -1. I suspect the P’s and R’s got mangled, or there was in fact a much longer example edited for space reasons.

*

It just goes to show that writing rules isn’t that simple a job. We made a conscious effort not to try to cover all options in the rules as it is an impossible task and only lands up with incomprehensible prose which causes much argument and as many questions as a looser approach. Language being what it is, there will always be ambiguities; the Polemos approach is for the players to find a way which suits them and is believable for them.

Still, I hope the above helps and, if it doesn’t, that you’ll let me know. As it says somewhere, the rules are not carved in stone and, if something doesn't make sense, we can change it.

You Shall Not Pass

‘I am afraid I really cannot let you pass.’

‘Do you think you really have a choice, my friend?’

‘No, I do not have a choice. If I let you pass, the Romans will defeat you and then they will punish both us and you. If I fight you and lose, then the Romans will defeat you and will not punish us, but will annex your land. So, either way, you lose; it is a matter of how much damage is done to my people and my land.’

‘But if you join us we can defeat the Romans together.’

‘Ha! The Romans always win, you know that.’

‘Not this time. They are busy elsewhere and also falling out among themselves. You know what it is with Romans.’

‘As opposed to Sarmatians, you mean?’

‘We have never fallen out among ourselves!’

‘In your tribe, perhaps, that is true. But why do you have this sudden interest in invading the Romans and taking their land?’

‘You would prefer us to take yours?’

‘It is too hilly for you. But someone is putting pressure on your land to make you want to move.’

‘Maybe we have chosen to vacate our land so another can graze on it.’

‘And maybe, just maybe, they are a lot more powerful than you. In which case I will need the Romans to protect me!’

‘Since you will not yield, you will fight.’

‘We will fight.’

*

Looking through my boxes of underemployed toy soldiers, I came up with “something Roman” and what about those Dacians and Sarmatians. The Dacians have been doubled, but the Sarmatians have not, so a big bash was not possible, but they both exist as twenty base SPQR armies. The plan was that the Sarmatians and Dacians clash, using the scenario outlined above. Then, depending on the outcome, the Romans will launch either a punitive expedition or defend their own lands against the barbarians.

The Sarmatians are, of course, all cavalry, or at least, eighteen bases of cataphracts and two of light cavalry. The Dacians are more mixed: fourteen bases of tribal foot, two foot skirmishers, two archers and two light cavalry. Given the disparity of cavalry and the scenario, I decided that the Dacians would be in ambush. Victory conditions would be the Sarmatians getting half or more of their bases off table on the Dacian side.

After the opening moves the game looked like this. The figures are Baccus, the buildings are, I think, Timecast and the trees Irregular.

The Dacians are to the left, with nine bases of tribal foot in the enclosures at the extreme left (where the D10 is to remind me of their presence), five in the woods on the far side. The archers are in the marsh to the left of the river (which was a stream given it is summer) and two bases of skirmishers in the marsh on the right of the river. The Dacian light horse has crossed the ford, under command of the general, and is skirmishing with the leftmost Sarmatian column to disrupt it and force it to deploy.

As you can see, so far so good. The Dacian ambush on their left has just sprung itself, five bases of tribal foot rushing out of the woods to assault the Sarmatian right-hand column. The lead Sarmatian light horse is trying to stem the rush. 

It has been a while since I have played my own Polemos: SPQR rules and I had to read them carefully. I discovered, for example, that I was a lot more generous with tempo points in SPQR than I have been in more recent rule sets. There, the generals get 5 TP plus 1d6; in more recent rules the generals merely get 1D6, although in both cases the general also get additional personal tempo. I think this speeds the game up. Certainly, in SPQR, the player can get things moving (or removing after a disruption) much faster. I felt, really, that the player has too much control. On the other hand, it does give the player something to do, rather than frustratedly waiting for enough tempo to do something with. I suppose, also, that the WotCR rules are designed for twelve bases, rather than twenty.

There was a good deal of uncertainty in the ranks in the next move or two on both sides. The Sarmatian right (including the general) attempted to charge the Dacian ambushers, and failed. The Dacian right seemed to be about to quell the Sarmatian left with but two light horse bases. However, the Sarmatians seized the tempo in the next bound, the charges went home and, from the Dacian point of view, chaos reigned.

 This is the view from the Sarmatian right. The Dacian ambush has been well and truly routed by the first line of Sarmatian heavies. In the far distance, one of the Dacian light horse has been routed by a cataphract charge. The Dacian skirmishers and archers have emerged from their lairs but too late to influence the action. The main body of the Dacian army has yet to jump out of the fields.

In the turn just finished the Dacians managed to lose six bases, and therefore had to roll for morale. This they failed and went to pessimistic status, which means no advancing. The main body, therefore, could not emerge from the enclosures and the Dacians conceded. There was no chance of stopping the right column of Sarmatians from exiting the Dacian side of the table and, given the disparity in strength between cataphracts and tribal foot, not a huge chance of stopping the left-hand column as well. To be fair, the terrain was rather against the Dacians – there was not really enough of it; perhaps I sprung their left-wing ambush too early, but I think fighting the left-hand column with the light horse far on the other side of the river was a good idea.

*

Dubolwhiskos, King of the Dacians, to G. Inand Tonicus, Governor of the Roman Province of Macedonia.

Greetings.

I regret to inform you, your grace, that a tribe of barbarian Sarmatians are set to invade Macedonia.
I have tried to prevent them by persuasion and armed force, but their cavalry was too strong for my men, and they have passed through my lands to yours. I trust Rome for the protection of my people and for vengeance against these savages.

Farewell.

The Sea! The Sea!

Those of you who have made it past the title (I can usually only sucker people into reading naval posts by a silly title) may well be expecting something classical, as ‘The Sea! The Sea!’ is, of course, the cry raised by the Ten Thousand once they got to be able to see the coast of the southern shore of the Black Sea.

But this is not about the classical era, but the early modern one, and the subject is a book I picked up expecting it to be a hard read, as a dry, academic tome, with little or no wargaming application. Which just goes to show that my expectations need some more calibration.

The work in question is:

Mancall, P. C., Shammas, C., eds. Governing the Sea in the Early Modern Era: Essays in Honour of Robert C. Ritchie (San Marono: Huntington Library, 2015).

As the title implies, this is a festschrift for an eminent academic on his retirement (I think). You might not have heard of him (I had not) but some of the essays celebrating his work are of interest, even to the most unhistorical of historical wargamer.

The book is divided into four parts: fisheries, piracy, interpolators and smugglers, and slaves. Each contains something of interest to the wargamer, although there is something of an inevitable North American bias to some of the work.

The section on Fisheries contains two essays. The first is a more historical account of medieval fishing, exhaustion of fish stocks in local waters, particularly as improving storage techniques and roads opened up markets further from the coast thus increasing demand. There were inevitable clashes between fishing fleets in increasing tension between nations over the resources of the sea. As stocks depleted, fishermen ranged further looking for catches, and eventually pitched up off Newfoundland catching from an apparently inexhaustible supply of cod, having already destroyed the apparently inexhaustible supply of herring in the North Sea. If this sounds familiar, it is because it is. The author Richard Hoffman notes that the current crisis in the seas has medieval roots and that so long as the sea is regarded as infinite and of open access, no restraint is going to be used by fishing nations as it is on inland waters.

The second essay chronicles the oddities of Newfoundland, particularly after the 1713 treaty of Utrecht, whereby the French were permitted to fish and land temporarily on Newfoundland, but not to settle, while the British were allowed to do all of the above. Inevitably conflict arose, and the situation was not regularised until surprisingly recently, I think into the Twentieth Century.

Section two, about Pirates, is an interesting set of three essays. The first discusses the problems of pirates in Ireland in the early Seventeenth Century, focussing on the port of Baltimore in Munster which was destroyed by a pirate attack in 1631. The links of this small port across the Atlantic World are explored. It is noted that the captives were largely sold in Algiers, for example, and that the pirates were a motley crew lead by a Dutch renegade and a mixed European and North African crew. The argument is that smuggling and piracy drove colonial expansion in the English maritime world, supplying goods which could otherwise not be obtained through legal channels, either through cost (customs and excise duties) or through scarcity. The administration was unable to police all the ports, and quite a few of the officials were involved in the smuggling anyway. When examined, the black and white of the smuggling turns grey.

The more widely known sorts of piracy that in the Caribbean is considered in the next two essays. The first treats Woods Rogers, governor of the Bahamas and his efforts in the ‘war against the pirates’. The second considers what made a pirate a pirate, as opposed to a buccaneer or a privateer. The answer is, of course, that a lot of it is in the eye of the beholder, and that piracy became piracy when the nations needed to improve trade and impose peace on colonial accessions. Another argument deployed here is that pirates needed safe places for ports and to retire to, and that the articles of piracy which crews signed up to were often forced upon them (sign or swim) and were, in fact, directed at the legal land authorities so the captains could claim their crews were not coerced (and therefore could not desert without facing due penalty). The land and sea worlds here go in tandem; you cannot separate them. It is also noted that our view of pirates is not historical reality, but is more mediated by Treasure Island, particularly the film versions.

The third section deals with interloping and smuggling. The first essay is a clear exposition of the Ambon massacre in 1623, while the English and Dutch were clashing over the spice trade in the Far East. From the English point of view, this poisoned Anglo-Dutch relations for a generation or so, although the Dutch were not particularly bothered by it. It was, of course, a clash (humiliating for the English) between the English East India Company and Dutch equivalent. This was, of course, complicated by European politics. The fact that the English lost meant that the EIC turned west and invested in India, with the consequences of the next few centuries that we are still living with.

The next essay discusses the difficulties of British traders in South America in the Eighteenth Century, when they were allowed to trade there but under suspicion, and the next with the enforcement (or not) of the 1696 Navigation Act in the North American colonies. Essentially, no one was prepared to stop smuggling and the crown did not give the resources to make people do so.

The final part discusses the slave trade. The first essay observes the links between the Portuguese and Spanish maritime empires during the union of the crowns (1580 – 1640). While the empires were supposed to be kept separately, they clearly were not and Portuguese landed up in the Caribbean, with slaves that had obtained in India or Mozambique. As ever, the world turns out to be more complicated than our simple categories allow. Finally, the art of the abolitionists (and pro-slavery campaigners) is discussed, outlining how the cartoons and paintings captured the violence of slavery and the savage life from which the new slaves had been ‘rescued’.

While there is not a great deal of directly relevant wargaming information here, there is a lot for someone who might be interested in an En Garde! or Flashing Blades roleplaying campaign, and there is a fair bit for consideration for a thoughtful wargamer with an eye to what might have been. As I said, the essays are a delight to read and there is little repetition between them, which is often a curse of such festschrifts.