Lancer's horses virtually finished.

I had a very productive day of painting today, one of those rare days when you are left alone to paint for three or four hours. All the jobs around the house had been taken care of so I sat down and took the primed horses almost to completion. They still need a wash, varnishing and flock added to their bases.
Unfortunately, it was far too gusty to take any photographs outside, the figures and probably me too, would have been blown all over the garden. So indoors with artificial light, never the best. I tried the flash with a couple, but I think that is even worse when trying to see the colours.

The whole regiment.

 

 

The following taken with a flash.

 

 

So the January Painting Challenge is almost complete. Only a couple of hours work left on these. Next up will be to complete my leader figures, they are 80% done so should be finished by the end of this week.



Scots Lancers almost complete.

The riders are now virtually complete, still need a wash and highlighting, but that will be done once the horses are complete and the riders have been glued on.

 They are now wearing their headgear, either lobster pot helmets, floppy hats or the traditional knitted blue bonnet.

 The backdrop is a N Gauge model railway back scene sheet.

 

 The whole gang.

Next up will be the horses, the regiment will be Hew Gordon's Lancers, part of the Covenanter Army.

 



Latest Civil War Campaign Diary Entry.

Part 8 of the diary is now ready for your reading pleasure.

Weighing up the Odds.

Balk Forest, South of Pocklington

25^th March 1642. 4:00 am.

Colonel Gryndell, Captain Hotham and four troopers rode out from Balk Forest, they headed South-East across country, avoiding all roads. Septimus knew the area very well and knew not only how to get to Twiston Hall by avoiding the roads, but also the best vantage point to observe the goings on.

Septimus was concerned that the latest intelligence he had was now two days old, many things could have changed in that period, royalist reinforcements, cancellation of the convoy or a host of other possibilities. This scouting mission would at least answer the most important of them.

After no more than thirty minutes gentle riding, Septimus held up his hand to halt the small group. 'We are very close Captain, we shall dismount here and travel the last half a mile on foot. There will no doubt be sentries and pickets surrounding the hall, so we move quietly, and in total silence.'

Two men were detailed off to hold the horses, ready for a hasty retreat if needed. The four remaining men, led by Septimus, headed into a wooded area.

After less than 15 minutes, Septimus once again halted the group with a raised hand, eyes had now become accustomed to the dark, the pale light of dawn was still some time off and would not penetrate the canopy of the wood for another hour or more.

The group gathered around Septimus, who spoke in a whisper. 'The hall is just beyond that hedge line,' pointing in the direction they had been travelling. 'We are in good cover and this vantage point will allow us to look down a slight fall in the ground to the hall grounds.' He looked about him, as if able to see through the dark and the surrounding trees. 'Not a sign of any sentry or picket, most odd, don't you think captain?'

'Yes indeed sir, surely they are not so confident in their position to think they are unapproachable!'

Septimus rubbed his chin, 'They must know about our force leaving Hull and then disappearing beyond Beverley. Any commander would be able to work out the distance such a force could travel and be prepared to resist it.

Once again he eyed his surroundings as if expecting a picket to step forward and challenge them. He smiled at the other three men, 'Maybe this Sir Royston is as big an imbecile, as I have been informed by various sources.'

The faint light of dawn was now creeping across the sky, illuminating the underside of the clouds. The four men crept slowly toward the hedge row overlooking the hall and its grounds. Candles were burning in a number of the rooms and the shapes of men could vaguely be seen moving about in and around the hall. Horses could also be heard away in the distance, out of sight. The four men crouched and waited for the slowly increasing daylight to lay all before them crystal clear.

Twiston Hall

5:15 am

Sir Royston was totally unaccustomed to rising so early in a morning, completely uncivilised. Consequently, he was not in the best of temper. That damn fool of a major, aided by Captain Parr, had convinced him to leave soon after daybreak for York, much against his better judgement, he wanted to arrive just after midday, to achieve the greatest impact and to be seen by the majority of the population. Well the two fools waiting downstairs, could wait a damn sight longer as he intended to eat a hearty breakfast and only then dress and go down to listen to their requests and seemingly endless problems. It was a short four hour march to York, how difficult could that be?

It was in fact one hour later, before Sir Royston met with Major Cunningham and Captain Parr.

'Sir, with your permission,' a very agitated Major Cunningham said, 'I shall send out a troop to scout the road ahead of us, and another two, one on each flank to protect and warn us of the enemy should he approach. I shall remain with the final troop as close escort.'

Sir Royston twisted the points of his moustache, 'My dear Major, you seem convinced this phantom force of yours is in this vicinity, am I cowwect?' he said in a quiet, almost friendly tone.

'It is possibly in this vicinity, on that point you are indeed correct sir.' The major relaxed slightly.

'Assuming that this webel force is indeed advancing upon us at this vewy moment,' Sir Royston continued to sound concerned but relaxed. 'Am I also cowwect in thinking that we will need evewy man available to pwotect the wagons?'

The major wasn't sure where this line of conversation was leading, but said 'You are indeed correct once again sir.'

Sir Royston slammed his fist down onto the tabletop, startling both the other men. 'Then why in God's name do you intend to send thwee quawters of your twoopers galloping awound the Yorkshire countwyside?' He shouted.

A reddening Major Cunningham, finding it hard to control himself, raised his own voice. 'Sir, they will not be galloping around the countryside, it is military sense to know what is ahead and to our flanks, otherwise we could march blindly into a trap!

Sir Royston jumped to his feet and stood one pace from the now crimson faced major. 'I want your twoopers awound me and the wagons!' he spat the words out, if the enemy is appwoaching it will be from the South-East, the one diwection you are ignowing major. If you must send out a twoop, then send it to the South-East, because that is the diwection any enemy is most likely to appwoach from. Do I make myself clear Mister Cunningham?

The major had to use all his self control not strike this fool across the face, he would not waste his career and future chances, he replied quietly. 'Very clear sir, very clear indeed, I shall not waste anymore of your time, and will follow your orders. With your permission, I shall send out a troop to the South-East, as you suggest.'

'Good, we seem to understand each other now major, you may indeed send out that twoop.

A hedge row, 300 yards away.

6:25 am

It was now light enough see everything that was happening down below at the hall. Septimus had watched with mild surprise as a troop of horse galloped off to the South-East, the opposite direction to which the wagons and the rest of the force were supposed to be taking.

'Do you think they have changed their plans sir?' Captain Hotham whispered.

'I doubt very much they would travel in that direction, it makes no sense.' Septimus rubbed his chin, as he always did when deep in thought. 'They must think that our force is somewhere to the South-East, surely they must know we could be here already.

A commotion in the grounds brought the attention of all four men back to the hall. Two limbered wagons had been brought to the front of the house, and the remaining three troops of the horse regiment were forming up in column ahead of it, whilst the regiment of foot, drum beating and flag flying, was also forming a column behind.

Eventually, a figure, who could only be Sir Royston Twiston-Rawlings emerged from the hall and was assisted onto his mount. He then moved to the head of the column and within moments the whole convoy lurched forward, heading North to join the York Road.

Septimus stared in disbelief and when he glanced at John Hotham, he could see the same look of suprise on his face too. That fool Twiston-Rawlings, had no advance guard nor did it appear, he was going to throw out any pickets on his flanks.

Captain Hotham, as though reading his commanders thoughts, said quietly, 'He must be waiting until he is closer to the York Road, before sending out scouts ahead and to his flanks.'

'Maybe John, maybe.' Septimus was watching the column snaking away into the distance. But no pickets or sentries guarded these woods overlooking the hall last night, a troop of horse sent off in the opposite direction to what is required. Unless this Sir Royston has some trick up his sleeve we haven't discovered, then the man is an idiot.'

The four of them made their way quickly through the wood to the two waiting troopers and their horses.

Two troopers were instructed to shadow the column and to immediately return to Balk Wood if scouts and flankers were thrown out when the column reached the York Road. Septimus, John and the two remaining troopers headed back across country to rejoin their men.

More painting progress.

More base colours added to the Scots Lancers, they now have boots and leather belts, strapping etc.

Also a little more progress on my mounted leader figures. Trying out a new technique for painting the horses, using different shades of base paint colour, and then using transparent inks to darken the original colour and it also brings reins etc, out more and gives them some shadow and depth.

Progress on the Scots Lancers.

Had a couple of hours today to do some painting. Managed to get three base colours on the lancers, flesh, green and buff.

The whole regiment.

 

 

Hopefully I shall get some more painting time tomorrow.

Happy New Year - another diary entry and the first photos of the January Painting Challenge.

2015 dawns, I started the year as, hopefully, I mean to go on. I spent four hours today removing the Scots Lancers from their sprues, assembling the horses, gluing the six metal lance arms and the plastic weapon arms to all the figures, finally finishing by giving all a coat of white primer.

This will be my entry to the January Painting Challenge. I have lots of things planned for this year, including more units for my British Civil War armies.

A box set of Highland Clansmen to which I have added some reinforcements.
A box set of Montrose Irish, again I have added some reinforcements.
A box set of Scottish Covenanters.

To add to the war gaming table I have some cattle, pigs and chickens!

A box of Viking Hirdmen and a plastic kit of a Viking Long Ship are also waiting in the wings as well as a box of Dark Age Warriors.

There are also some Imperial Romans and their adversaries the Ancient Britons and Gauls, on the list to be painted.

That lot should certainly keep me busy during this new year, as well as actually putting them to use on the war gaming table.

 The lancers assembled and primed.

 They all went together really well.

 A total of twelve riders and their horses.

Some will be wearing their distinctive blue knitted bonnets.

I have also written the next diary entry for the fictional campaign.

A Major Miscalculation.

Twiston Hall, Thorpefield

24^th March 1642. 4:30pm.

Sir Royston Twiston-Rawlings stood at a window in his study looking out at the arrival of a regiment of horse. This fine body of horsemen and his own regiment of foot, encamped in the grounds of the hall, are all now under his command, with the honorary rank of Brigadier.

Footsteps and voices on the staircase, heralded the arrival of his second in command, Captain John Parr. After knocking and being told to enter, The captain accompanied by another officer stood before him.

The officer was covered in dust from the journey from York, but his clothes and accoutrements, spoke of a man of means. He stood to attention and in a confident clear voice barked, 'Major Arthur Cunningham at your service sir!

Sir Royston smiled and offered his hand, 'Pleased to meet you Major, I have just watched your wegiment's awwival, a vewy impwessive sight it is too. After shaking hands the three men settled in chairs by the fire.

'I also bring some intelligence news as well sir,' the major said, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out a folded parchment.

'Do you know what it says, my dear major, or more to the point, does it concern me or tomowwow's mission?' said Sir Royston nonchalantly.

'It does both sir,' the major was clearly surprised that Sir Royston seemed only mildly interested. 'A force of parliamentary foot and horse left Hull yesterday morning and headed to Beverley.'

Is that so unusual my dear major, after all they do contwol that awea, at least for now.' Sir Royston said.

The major appeared flustered for a moment, 'True sir, but the force, after a short stay in the town headed North-West on the York Road, before disappearing into the countryside.' The major waited to see what impact this news would have on the brigadier.

Sir Royston smiled, 'Disappeared, you say, well perhaps they had taken the wong woad and simply detoured back again.'

'No sir!' an increasingly frustrated Major Cunningham snapped back. Sir Royston raised his eyebrows, 'Begging your pardon sir, the force did not return to Beverley, in fact we have no idea where it went or indeed where it is heading.'

'Why is this err...intelligence of intewest or use to me, major?' Sir Royston was getting bored of the conversation and of the major too.

The major tried a different approach, 'Since that force, which equals your own sir, disappeared yesterday afternoon, it could even have travelled to this very house or beyond!'

'Well as you see my dear major, this phantom force is certainly not here, if it was,' Sir Royston smiled again, 'I think we would know. More importantly, why would the webels send a force to the hall?'

Major Cunningham was finding it hard to control his temper, 'Sir, they would like nothing better than to take your plate for their own cause and in doing so, deny it to the king.'

Sir Royston stood and walked to the window, the troopers had now put their horses into the paddock across the other side of the gardens and were in the process of erecting their own camp for the night. 'You said the force left Hull yesterday morning, that is the 23^rd, I only made the decision to move the plate the evening before, and the only people who knew that, was Captain Parr and myself.' He turned to face the two men, 'Do you think one or both of us, galloped through the night to warn the webels in Hull as to what was happening?

'No sir, of course not, but...

Sir Royston was now totally fed up with this conversation and the boring major too, he raised his voice, 'There is no possible way that they could know of the convoy, nor is there any weason for this phantom force, to come anywhere near this house, Do I make myself clear Major?'

The major jumped to his feet and nodded, 'Very clear indeed sir! I shall request leave of you and check on my men, with your permission.'

'Please do major, please do.' He watched the now red faced major stomp from the room and listened to him beat a hasty retreat down the staircase. He turned to John Parr, 'What a damn fool!, I'll wager that damned phantom force of his, even if it exists, is even now back inside the walls of Hull.'

In fact, the phantom force was making camp for the evening in woods less than four miles from Twiston Hall...

Skirmish set up on the war gaming table.

This will definitely be my last update of 2014. I have set up the skirmish battle involving Colonel Septimus Gryndell with the Hull Trained Band plus Captain Hotham's regiment of horse and Brigadier Sir Royston Twiston-Rawlings regiment of foot, an attachment of horse and the carts carrying the family plate to York. (Don't know what I am talking about?) Shame on you, read the Civil War diary entries on this very blog.
Alas, the battle cannot be fought yet, as the two main protagonists are both still in the process of being painted for the occasion. However, I have included some photos of the forces in position, minus the aforesaid gentlemen, to give a taste of what is to come in January.

Looking along the York Road from North-West to South-East, York is a few miles behind the camera and Market Weighton, Beverley and Hull, are further along the road in the distance.

From the other end of the table, The royalist train passes sheep grazing as they approach the wood.

Another similar view of the advancing royalist train. Ploughed fields to their right.

 The Hull Trained Band, hidden in the wood.

Quietly waiting to give the royalists a warm welcome.

Captain John Hotham's horse await on the road known as 'The Balk' which leads to Pocklington.

Some general views of the table and forces.

There will be at least one further diary entry before the battle takes place and I shall do a full battle report of the proceedings. The outcome of the battle will, of course, dictate the diary entry after that. Will Septimus relieve Sir Royston of his loot? or will our royalist hero, come good and vanquish the forces of parliament? Just like you, I shall have to wait and see.