The Dutch Ambassador’s Party

‘Monsieur, we must follow at once, and quickly.’

‘Follow? Follow who?’

‘The Dutch ambassador. My government needs a copy of the treaty. We must spy our chance to obtain it.’

‘Obtain it? You mean steal it?’

‘Monsieur des Contes, this is diplomacy. There is no such verb as ‘to steal’. We obtain.’

‘The ambassador has lots of guards, you know. And he has a sword himself. There is just the two of us.’

‘We must use stealth and opportunity, Monsieur.’

*

And so the second scenario in the Corbie Rebooted campaign was produced. I have painted, if you have been following my Facebook page, a bunch of Redoubt 28+ mm civilian figures for the mid-seventeenth Century, and so was looking for an opportunity to use them. I pondered and came up with a scenario that seemed to fit the bill. M. Gaspard des Contes (my RPG character) and the English agent M. White are attempting to procure a copy of the Franco-Dutch treaty for the English government. The treaty, or some copies thereof, are accompanying the Dutch ambassador to France on his return to the United Provinces. Señor Emboscuda, the Spanish agent who attempted to impede me the last time, is also after a copy. He has gathered an array of other Spanish ruffians and desperadoes to attempt to intercept the ambassador and his party.

The ambassador and Spanish intersect at the village of Des Fetes. Here, some of the residents are in dispute with their Lord, M. Caca De Fetes. The Lord wishes to replace the usual parish Ale (a party with lots of alcohol to raise funds for the church. No, really.) with a genteel dance. The peasants are not impressed and are hatching a scheme to dognap Mme De Fete’s lapdog, and possibly kidnap Mlle De Fete as well, to get their Ale back.

The setup is below. The Spanish had random entry points assigned and diced for. They mostly landed up in the far right corner. Behind the church, the local clergy is holding an outrage meeting to steel his supporters to start stealing dogs and children. The ambassador’s party has just arrived in the village, and a number of civilians are milling around, going about their usual business.

The figures are a mix of Redoubt, Wargames Foundry, Outpost, and Warbases. The carts and buildings are Usbourne. The rules are a mix of Flashing Blades and my own head. Mostly, the characters are trying not to start fighting. M. des Contes and M. White are currently off the table to the right, shadowing the convoy and awaiting an opportunity.

This was quite a complicated little action. Eventually, I rolled up 26 non-player characters to try to determine what happened. Each group had to roll a 6 on 1d6 to activate, aside from the Spanish led by Snr Emboscada, the ambassador’s party, myself, and M. White. This had some odd results, which were quite realistic. The Spanish figure you can just see on the far side in the centre never activated. The outrage meeting behind the church took quite a long time. The villagers on the street did activate at the carts rolled towards them, and actually blocked it a little bit, allowing myself and M. White to catch up, and the Spanish to launch at it from the alleyways, without much warning.

The drone-oriented shot above shows the chaos breaking out. The two guards at the front of the Ambassador’s convoy are engaged with the villagers. One has managed to nicely get some ladies out of the way. The other was a bit more aggressive and has just been struck down from behind by a villager after he shoved one of the ladies out of the way, twice.

Further back, the Spanish are overrunning the convoy. One guard is down, stunned, and the ambassador himself has, after striking out against Snr Emboscada, been felled by a vicious rapier to the head, and is now unconscious and bleeding. The Ambassador’s servant is making for the nearest alleyway, and the remaining guards are trying to defend themselves.

Meanwhile, the party from the manor has emerged to see what all the fuss is about, while the outrage meeting is heading from the church to confront their landlord. As I mentioned earlier, there was a lot going on.

The final positions are above. The Dutch guards have dragged the ambassador out of harm’s way. In the distance the local clergy is, in fact, negotiating with M. Caca De Fetes about the Church Ale. The manor servant with the dog is on the ground. This was his fault. Some of the villagers approached him to grab the dog. He decided to run off, leaving the dog, but got tangled in his own feet, the dog, and the lead and landed on the ground. According to the statistics the monk and the lord are probably brothers, so they agreed to hold the Church Ale with an additional formal dance at the start.

In the foreground, you can see Gaspard des Contes heading out of the village. He had slipped around the confrontations at the rear of the Dutch ambassador’s coach and, on a critical roll of his wit and another good roll of his dexterity had abstracted a copy of the treaty and is now beating a retreat, covered by M. White getting in the way of any pursuers. Snr Emboscala is not too worried by this, however, as he has found another copy in the coach, so he has directed his men not to give chase.

So, who won? The Dutch definitely lost, having lost two copies of the treaty and having a number of their people injured, the most seriously hurt being the ambassador. The Spanish and English sides both obtained their objectives, as did the outrage group and M. Caca De Fetes. So a good time was had by three-quarters of the parties, anyway.

Next, of course, Gaspard Des Contes and M. White have to get their copy of the treaty to England, probably hotly pursued by Dutch agents and who knows who else. There is also the matter of the Spanish assault on a Dutch diplomat to be resolved, especially as the incident happened on French soil….

An Announcement… Part II

It had to happen, and on Tuesday, it did. A knock at the door… shadowy figure on the far side of the glass… a camera slicing an instant from eternity. Yes, the parcel delivery man has delivered that book. You know, the one I have been going on about here since about February: Solo Wargaming: A Practitioner’s Guide.

Through the kindness of a commenter here, I already knew it was out in the wild, so to speak, but it is nice to have my own little stack of copies.

It is, I think, nicely produced and, while it might not be quite as comprehensive as the blurb would have us believe, I hope it is a contribution to the hobby. I decided to add the preaching figure from my collection to the photo, partly because he missed out on the last wargame and partly because I was reminded of the verse:

Of making of many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh. (Ecclesiastes 12:12)

Um, yes, well, as you were. On a whim I also photographed the book open, on my trusty book seat.

The picture is actually from one of the somewhat later chapters, which discusses, among other things, the use of personalities and characters. The table lists some of the characteristics from officers in the Jersey Boys campaign. I do examples….

Anyway, as a writer, it is a bit of an odd business, publishing stuff. I have done it before, of course, in an academic context. That is a little different, of course, but there are similarities. For example, by the time the work appears in print, you have moved on to something else. Life does not stop and wait for publication, and in academic life, at least, putting your feet up and basking in the glory of being published is not really an option, at least until you are a crusty old professor who has minions to develop your projects for you.

So, by my reckoning, it is roughly a year since I sent off the manuscript, and my wargaming life has developed somewhat, at least. That is not to say I have necessarily changed my mind on anything in the book. It is more along the lines that things have developed, particularly in my thoughts on skirmish and role-playing solo. I am still experimenting, as the recent entries in the blog will show, as well as the painting and even some painting. We will see where it gets to.

One of the things that happens when you publish something is that people congratulate you. This is wonderfully affirming, of course. Writing is a lonely business often, and to have people say how good it is to have created a book is great. Then, they cast around looking for something else to say about it.

It has to be said that, in my conversations with people since the book was announced back in February, many have expressed ignorance as to the existence of wargaming as a hobby per se. Perhaps it is the bit of the country that I live in, but a wide variety of people from all walks of life have admitted that they had no idea of its existence. Nor, in fact, did they know that I was a wargamer, in spite of them knowing me for around 20 years or so. I suppose this means I am a fairly tidy person and the troops are all packed away in their boxes and cupboards before anyone comes around.

Still, that does lead me to the first question people often ask: ‘Are you going to be a millionaire?’ This one is quite easy to answer: someone once told me that you do not sculpt wargame figures for riches, you sculpt them for poverty, and it is the same with writing. Recent figures from the Society of Authors suggest that the annual income of a successful writer is about £11,000 a year, and that is for full time writing with a string of magazines and newspaper articles, as well as books in the quiver. It also notes that the figure is distorted upwards significantly, because one J. K. Rowling is a member of the society. If you want to find me at a wargame show, I will be the one near the entrance, croaking out ‘Spare a chasseur for the poor, sir?’.

I confess, when, a couple of years ago I confessed to Mr Berry that I was writing a book on solo wargaming, I did remark that it probably had the selling power of a six-week dead fish. He disagreed, and thought that it might do a bit better than that. We shall see.

Anyway, once the matter of the lack of wealth generation from a book is disposed of, non-wargamers, obviously getting a bit desperate, tend to ask what I am going to write next. Fortunately, I have a get out clause for that, which is that the ‘next’ book is the one on 6 mm wargaming, which is currently stalled due to lack of decent photographs. On quizzing, I will be forced to admit that the text is largely written.

Some questioners then press a bit harder, recognising, as I said above, that a written text is not one being worked on now. So, they persist: what are you working on now?

When I finished the manuscript, I was pretty well out of ideas and energy. A similar thing happened after finishing the thesis, in fact. Suddenly you have all this time and mental space, and not much to fill it with. However, over the last year I have managed to fill it a bit, and through the editing and proof-reading stages of production, have started to realise that there are a few more angles and topics which could be addressed.

So now, when someone asks me ‘Are you writing another book?’ I can reply with an enigmatic smile: ‘Perhaps.’ But that is about as far as I can go. I would like to play some more wargames...

Woke Wargaming?

Every once in a while in the wargaming blogosphere, or at least the bit of it that I read, an interesting conundrum appears, which seems to me to be worth mulling over a bit more than just firing off a comment. The recent post on Don’t Throw a One about the Haitian Revolution is one such. I recommend reading the post and the comments if you have not already done so.

Without wishing to get into the pros and cons of wargaming such a conflict, it is worth noting a few things. Firstly, the argument is not really about wargaming the conflict. There are a lot of these sorts of questions around – in the comments, the issue of the Russian Front in World War Two was raised. I sort of tackled this a bit in a previous post, so will not bang the drum over it again. Sometimes, however, it does seem that the non-wargaming public has the sort of assumption that we would not wargame a specific subject, such as the Russian campaigns if we really knew what happened. Well, the answer to this is, of course, that we are wargamers and we know what happened. Wargaming the subject does not imply agreement or acquiescence with the activities of the participants.

To return to Haiti, a long time ago I undertook an Open University course in history, one module of which made extensive reference to the Haitian revolution, and the OU was not afraid of using the words Creole (for mixed-race individuals) and slave. It might also be worth noting that the international situation was the French Revolution – with its emphasis on freedom, after all – and a massive spike in imports of slaves into French Caribbean colonies after 1791.

The OU was also not afraid of describing people of African ancestry as ‘blacks’. Thus, the use of the names, however uncomfortable they might make some post-colonial scholars and ‘woke’ (whatever that is) individuals, is perfectly acceptable, albeit that the course was first published in 2007.

So what has happened? Has our sense of historical perspective completely disappeared? More to the point, perhaps, how are we actually going to refer to the combatants without using such pejorative terms? It is certainly a problem that is wider than the Haitian Revolution, and, for the matter of that, wider than wargaming. A good deal of the public discourse over history is dominated by these sorts of post-colonial debates. For those of you with strong stomachs, a dip into the debates triggered over Nigel Biggar’s Colonialism (which I reviewed briefly here) would show a fury in the scholarly community which would surprise most wargamers, even those who argue fiercely about points of contention in rule sets.

The key question was whether Ray should continue to wargame the Haitian Revolution over the objections of his family that it was racist, distasteful and used words which were, in some sense, to be depreciated. Well, maybe, but history is history and that it how words were used then. Failure to recognise that would make us misunderstand history in the round, which would be a bad thing. Not preserving the use of the words in their original context would make us fail to comprehend the mindsets of the people of the past. They were not like us.

Herein, I think, lies the rub. As wargames, we, sort of, recreate the past. Historians, in some sense, recreate the past in their thoughts and, hopefully, in their words and the minds of their readers. History which does not do that is not worth reading, after all. And yet the past cannot be re-created, which is probably just as well. Generating armies which represent a slave revolt over two centuries ago does not recreate the attitudes and world views of the participants.

I suspect that the answer, as it does in so many of these cases, lies in the question of context. If we react to the word ‘black’ for example, when used to describe a fellow human being, we are reacting to a whole bunch of stereotypes and tropes in our culture. A few headlines from recent years, relating to problems over treating skin conditions of black people, the death rate of non-whites in the Covid pandemic, to the scandal over the Windrush generation in the UK and I am sure many others all key into the use of this particular word. And hence people (at least those of a fairly liberal mindset) take offence.

But there is another issue lurking here, and that is about the difference between offence and harm. I can take offence at something, but not be harmed by it. Likewise, I can be harmed by something, but not offended by it. A rival shoe shop could open next to mine – my trade, and therefore my income, will probably be harmed, but I should not be offended by it. I can certainly take offence at someone gratuitously being described as a ‘black’ if the context suggests something negative is meant.

In this case, then, the description of a regiment in the Haitian revolution as black is not offensive and does no one (at least, no one who has any idea of the context) any harm. Out of context, the word generates many negative ideas and connections. In context, the OU’s description of Haiti that ‘black armies led by former slaves would be major powers in the land’ is hardly either harmful or offensive.

Taking offence, then, is a matter of context and, in this case, historical fact. It might not fit in with some wider political agendas, but that is neither here nor there. We can and do often reinterpret history, and it is frequently used to bolster ourselves and our own image – the celebrations of the 80^th anniversary of D-Day might be used for this, for example. An argument could be made that D-Day was more or less the last occasion on which the UK was a significant, positive force in the world and that we look back on those times with nostalgia. This is reinventing the past – no one knew what was going to happen next, after all.

So, should a war game on the Haitian revolution take place? It might not be to everyone’s taste, but that should not stop it. It is neither harmful nor offensive, in my view. The only way it can be so construed is by taking some of the language and events out of context and twisting them a bit to fit a modern, cultural, argument (or set of arguments). History is very prone to this, nowadays, which as a historical wargamer is a bit of a pity.

Spanish Intermezzo

 

Wargaming and painting came to a bit of a juddering halt recently, as I was proof-reading my book. But I can now report that the proofs are safely returned and, apparently, dispatched to the printer. So in about four weeks, I believe, the printed copies will be in the warehouse and will start to be despatched to whoever wants a copy. I think you can still get the pre-release price if you are quick.

After that, some wargaming was required, I felt. I have done a bit of undercoating, but even so, the real reason for doing this stuff is to fight wargames, so here goes. My eye lit upon Varga’s The Roman Wars in Spain and I considered that I did not think my ancient Spanish troops had ever hit the tabletop. This was to be rectified.

Dipping into Varga I came across a page where the Cantabrians were raiding their neighbours. This played into Augustus’ hands as he wanted to finish off the conquest of Spain. The only holdouts were the Cantabrians, Galicians and Asturians.

So, to start off with, I decided on a raid and capture territory scenario, and returned to one I prepared earlier, The Bridge at Muchado. Obviously, the bridge became a ford while translating the action back 1650 years or so, but the rest was fairly as expected. The next thing to note was that I was using Polemos SPQR armies, which gives the Spanish a lot of skirmishers each, and a solid core of tribal foot and heavier cavalry.

The setup is above. The Cantabrians are to the right, aiming to seize Muchado, the village in the centre by the ford. The Galicians are to the left, trying to prevent the same. My idea as the Cantabrian commander was to cross the ford and seize the village, but I could see that was not going to work, as the ford was covered by the Galician cavalry and tribal foot. So the next idea was to work the skirmishers onto the flanks and envelop the village.

I had forgotten how slow skirmishing can be under the rules (which were not PM:SPQR, but are related, faster playing rules). The factors are low and the chances of causing damage are not much greater. Most of the action was the clash of the skirmishers.

The picture shows the action after quite a few turns, and skirmishing is in evidence along most of the lines. In the foreground the main outflanking effort of the Cantabrians is underway, and has caused quite a bit of damage to the Galicians light horse, one of which is fleeing (left), the other of which is shortly to join them. However, the rest of the Galician skirmish strength is closing up, and the battle is nowhere near over. In the centre, you can see the heavier troops facing each other over the ford and stream and shouting ‘Grr’ a lot. On the far side, the Galician lights are gaining the upper hand over their foes.

I should note that I have learnt some things over recent games. Firstly, armies in these ‘tempo poor’ rules when they reach about 15 bases start to need sub-generals, and these are present here, both with the skirmishers. Generals with skirmishers are very useful as they can pull damaged units out of line, revive them and send them back, hopefully in a few turns. They are, however, a bit vulnerable to the 'risk to generals' rule as if a skirmisher base with a general attached is on the receiving end of a bad roll, then the general is at risk, as the Galician sub-general found out.

Secondly, I learnt that rushing to cross the stream is not a good idea from the ECW version of the scenario. Thus there was not much action in the centre, as the Cantabians did not want to cross the stream and be on the receiving end of a charge at -2 on the dice, nor push the cavalry across the ford to be met by the Galician cavalry and take a charge from tribal foot in flank. So it was all a bit quiet in the centre.

As the Cantabrian right slowly collapsed they were able to redirect skirmishers from the centre to prop it up.

On the near side, Cantabrian left, the advance of the light troops across the stream is well underway with significant disruption to the enemy (and a bit to themselves). It is slow going but seems inexorable at the stage. On the far side, the Cantabrian skirmishers from the centre are causing a fair bit of damage to the hitherto successful Galicians.

Eventually, the casualties told on the defenders. Their right flank was under great pressure and being forced back. It was only a matter of time before it collapsed. On their left, the last Galician skirmisher base was looking very lonely against the Cantabrians. The centre was still locked up, neither side willing to commit to combat, but with the flanks more or less gone the Galicians threw a bad morale roll and hit ‘fall back’. They fought on for a turn or two, losing some more bases, and then went to withdraw mode, so they did.

*

That was a nice battle and, of course, very different from the ECW version. I decided not to rush the ford and stream with the Cantabrians and risk horrid defeat by counter-charge, but to work on the flanks. With more bases and a lot of skirmishers, this was a rather natural thing to do and it worked, eventually. Patience, and a lot of it, was required. The Galicians were a bit unfortunate with some key dice rolls – losing the sub-general was not helpful and some of the tempo and combat rolls went against them. Nevertheless, I am not sure what else they could have done.

Still, the scene is now set for some more wargames in ancient Spain as the Galicians do what most defeated tribes did, and go a whine to the Romans, who are always up to stamp out trouble, of course.

 

A Sword for Christ

 As the reader of my Facebook page will know, I recently finished Jonathan Cobb’s book on the Republican era and Great Britain and Ireland. It took me a little longer than I expected – it is a bit of a thicker tome than I anticipated.

Cobb, J., A Sword for Christ, Birlinn, Edinburgh, 2021.

I think it counts as a brave and useful effort, but as the republican era is, I think, downright confusing, particularly at its end, I am only a little wiser. Another thing that strikes me as odd is that even though the title bigs up, as it were, the religious aspect of the republic, it does not come across quite so strongly in the text.

Still, as there is not really an awful lot that is accessible about the republic, I think the book is worthwhile. It starts, rather oddly, perhaps, with the battle of Naseby, which is given an OK description but probably would not pass muster against some of the more recent interpretations of the battle, particularly the activities of Ireton’s wing. I mean, I think Ireton got injured by a pike, which suggests he was not facing Rupert’s horse, at least directly, at the time.

Starting there, of course, Cobb has to backtrack a little to the Self-Denying Ordinance and the setting up of the New Model Army. From there he has to backtrack a little further to explain why the New Model was needed at all. It is all, shall we say, a little confusing even in forward narrative. But it is key, and so has to be there.

The story then proceeds fairly straightforwardly through the Putney debates and negotiations with Charles I, the Second Civil War and the Levellers, the invasions of Ireland and Scotland and finally the Worcester campaign. So long as the republic kept fighting and winning, it seems, no one worried too much as to how it was being governed. And there is the rub: if the republic started to lose, then God would no longer be with her, and the whole existence of the Godly republic and the Elect ruling her would be under question.

In most of what I have read, including Cobb’s book, recent historiography points to the Western Design, which was supposed to capture Hispaniola and landed up with Jamaica, as the point at which the confidence of the Godly started to desert them. After all, if Dunbar was the high point of God being with them, then surely a war against the Popish Spanish ungodly rabble should have been successful, whatever the odds.

The lack of confidence engendered was, in my view at least, enhanced by Cromwell and his obscure views and manner of expression throughout his time as leader, either de facto or de jure. The story of his various attempts at finding some sort of legitimate government while keeping the Godly victors in power read as something between a farce and a tragedy. As with many unpopular governments, Cromwell and his Council of State did not seem to grasp that they were, in fact, unpopular, no matter how much they believed that God was with them.

The Republic needed significant armed forces to occupy Ireland, and Scotland, and fight the Dutch (Cromwell was against this, and ended the war as soon as he could after becoming Protector) and the Spanish. This meant heavy taxation of a country already impoverished by a decade of war and the army in serious arrears. Cromwell just about held it together, although the rule of the Major-Generals was rather a disaster – they even failed to return compliant members to the Protectorate Parliament. But when he died the contradictions and confusions of the republic showed and it all fell apart.

Cobb is surprisingly positive about Richard Cromwell. With a better wind, he might have made a fist of being Protector. But the legacy of high taxation, uncooperative Parliaments, and an army used to getting its own way put paid to any real chances of progress and he sensibly quit before someone led a coup. Not that the someones did much better, of course. Eventually, only Monk seems to have had much idea as to what to do, and he succeeded largely because his (Scottish garrison troops) were paid, while those in England were not, so Lambert’s army deserted in Northumberland.

One of the themes in the book I noticed is the influence of Fairfax, even in retirement. He crops up several times, not least, of course, in gathering the Yorkshire militia in 1659 to threaten Lambert’s rear. He had the advantage of never really falling out with anyone and became more sympathetic to the Royalist cause over the years. Still, since avoiding the King’s trial he did keep a low profile.

I think there are one or two errors, or at least statements which probably cannot be backed up. The one that sticks in my mind is the claim that the soldiers who put their weapons down and then picked them up again on Blackheath in 1660 were the same scarred veterans as those at Naseby. I think Ian Gentles argues that the army in 1659 was a very different beast than that of 1645 and with all the purging, casualties, and desertions, let alone honourable retirements among the rank and file, it seems to me unlikely that there were many veterans of the First Civil War among them. Senior officers, of course, were rather different – Monk started off as a Royalist and was captured at Nantwich after all. But the rank and file – I’m not so sure.

Quibbles aside, it is a good general introduction to an often overlooked, very confusing, and interesting era in British and Irish history. It is a bit of a shame that Cobb seems to have missed some of the more recent scholarship, but on the other hand, the endnotes do indicate engagement with a range of contemporary documents and he does give activity in Scotland its due, as befits a book written by someone who lives in East Lothian and is published in Edinburgh.