Thursday, 27 November 2014

A miniature campaign

The idea is to fight a campaign, initially in Yorkshire but later spreading across the country. It is all just a bit of fun and as yet there are no set rules. It will be fiction mixed in with fact and as such I shall create some personalities to lead regiments and indeed armies.
Please take this campaign with a pinch of salt, it will be in no way true to the actual events of the time and will probably even create a time line of its own.
Allow me to introduce a couple of characters.
The Tribulations of Septimus Gryndell

The Meeting room in The White Hart Inn, Hull.
1st February 1642.

Septimus Gryndell took his seat around the large oak table as did the others in the room. The Member of Parliament for Hull, Peregrine Pelham called the meeting to order.
It was less than an hour since Captain John Hotham, the son of newly appointed Governor of Hull, Sir John Hotham had arrived by ship from Barton. He and a regiment of horse had made all speed from London and to cut down the journey time even further had crossed from the Great North Road into Lincolnshire and headed for the small town of Barton on the South bank of the River Humber and its ferry connection with the Port of Hull. Even as the meeting was getting underway, further boats were making the crossing, carrying the rest of the regiment and their horses to Hull.

Peregrine Pelham stood and one by one introduced all the men in the room to the 31 year old Captain. On being introduced and shaking hands with Septimus, the Captain reached into a canvas bag and withdrew a parchment bearing the seal of Parliament. He handed rolled up parchment to a surprised Septimus.
'And what have we here?' he muttered, looking down at the great seal of red wax.
'I can save you the trouble of reading it now sir,' said a smiling Captain Hotham. 'Parliament, at the behest of my father have promoted you to the rank of Colonel and you will assume immediate command of the Hull Trained Band.'

Septimus heard the intake of breath and could feel the eyes of all in the room burning into him. He was already the Captain of the Trained Band, serving under the command of Pelham.
'I thank you and indeed your father too for this great honour, but surely there has been some mistake, for our esteemed Member of Parliament, Mr Pelham is in command already.'
Mr Pelham has other duties to attend to, assured Captain Hotham and my father specifically asked for you to take command, he has not forgotten your service to him when he was Governor of Hull the last time.

Septimus could barely conceal his satisfaction and was even more satisfied when he looked in the direction of Pelham, the mans eyes failing to hide his anger and humiliation, though he was smiling and nodding towards Septimus.
'I am proud to take command of a fine body of men,' he said in a loud, clear voice and will endeavour to repay the faith your father has shown in me.'
The others in the room slapped him on the back or shook his hand, but Septimus knew which of those slaps and handshakes were indeed genuine. He had known all along that Pelham was not up to the job of commanding the regiment, God knew too and had rewarded him. That body of fine men were in truth an untrained rabble, that would now change with Septimus as their Colonel, they would soon learn what serving against the papist loving king and his hangers on would entail. By thunder they would and pity any of them who failed to do their god given duty.

The meeting over, Septimus walked out into the street and was met by a cold, dreary day. Spots of rain falling onto his broad brimmed hat, but Septimus cared not for the weather, he knew very soon the country would be at war and he could not wait to begin the eradication of the royalist vermin that plagued this country. He gently stroked the leather cover of the bible in the pocket of his long grey coat, his fingers tracing the embossed cross on its cover, he stopped and looked up into the grey sky.
'I Septimus Gryndell am proud to do your bidding my lord.' he yelled, startling a group of ladies passing down the street and eliciting odd looks from others.

He cared not and stomped off toward the citadel, the trained band were in for a torrid time on the training ground, by God they were...
I do hope you enjoyed meeting Septimus. The Royalists also have a hero of their own...
The Derring-Do of Sir Royston Twiston-Rawlings

The Coach Inn, Market Weighton. 2nd February 1642.

It was one of those cold, dark overcast days, typical for the month, when daylight refuses to make a proper appearance. In his room, Sir Royston sat close to a blazing fire, in his hand a glass of claret.
He had just finished a very acceptable meal of Game Pie served by an equally acceptable, buxom wench. A faint smile crossed his lips, he would see more of her later, much more.

The tramp of heavy feet and voices on the stairway, spoiled his daydream, much to his displeasure. He recognised the deep voice of John Parr, his trusted captain. Both he and Captain Parr had left Twiston Manor yesterday morning, hearing that in London, some days earlier, the traiterous Parliament had appointed Sir John Hotham as the governor of Hull. He was to hold the town and its very well equipped arsenal for Parliament and prevent it falling into royalist hands.

Upon reaching Market Weighton last night and hearing of the goings on in Hull, Sir Royston began to have second thoughts about entering the town. After all such a prominent royalist would be a high prize indeed to the parliamentary scum now controlling the town. No, he had instead instructed Captain Parr to travel as far as he was able toward the town, picking up all the information he could gather, a much safer and easier option for Sir Royston. His only regret, he would be unable to spend anymore nights with Caroline, the very beautiful and adventurous wife of a Hull businessman.

'Come in Captain Parr,' Sir Royston snapped on hearing the knock on the door. John Parr entered the room, his face red with the cold, his riding cloak wrapped around his broad shoulders.
'Warm yourself by the fire and tell me the news,' Sir Royston said, pointing to the chair opposite. 'By the look on your face, the news will not be to my liking.'
'Indeed not sir,' John Parr sat heavily in the proferred chair and held out his hands to the fire, 'Sir John Hotham's son, Captain Hotham has already reached Hull. He arrived yesterday with a small party of men to take command of the town. He has also called to arms the Hull Trained Band, who at this very moment man the town walls and guard every gate.

Sir Royston gazed at the fire twisting the ends of his dark moustache already groomed to fine points.
'Those wascally webels!' he spit out the words. 'How dare they turn against their woyal highness, I must weturn to the manor and waise a wegiment for the service of the king.'
John, although cold and tired after a full day in the saddle, rose to his feet. 'Shall I order our horses saddled, sir?'

Sir Royston suddenly remembered the serving wench and her ample assets. 'No captain, you are cold and tired, it would be unfair to expect you to wide through the night. We shall stay here and make an early start for the manor in the morning.'
'That is most kind of you sir, it is true a warm meal and an equally warm bed would be greatly appreciated. I will be then much ready for an early start, at what time do wish to set off sir?' Sir Royston was also thinking of a warm bed but not quite in the same way Captain Parr. 'Oh, I think 11am will be early enough.' Captain Parr raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Very good sir, I shall bid you a goodnight.'
Oh I will, I will indeed, thought Sir Royston Twiston-Rawlings, reaching for the claret bottle.
So the first two characters make themselves known. Once again please take all this as a piece of fun, I am not a writer, nor am I an experienced war gamer. I just want to have a background story or fluff, to make the battles on the table top more interesting and have a reason for being fought.


  1. I take it you have a 'Buxom wench' figure then?

  2. Unfortunately not, but I am working on it.