Newsletter Number 74

June  2002

From The Sergeant Major       

Welcome to the latest edition of Hopton's newsletter.

There has been a lot happening since the last issue, not least our visit to the re-named Bath & West show.  Unfortunately there was a minimal turnout by us there (I won't embarrass those who did go by naming them), but 1 can say that it was an interesting fin experience. The processes involved in staging eight differing scenarios in four days, even without the moving goalposts of the timings were quite a headache for the organisers, so if you see a lot more grey hairs on Winchester heads you know why!

Stoke Canon was thoroughly enjoyed by all who attended, in spite of the very strange route that we marched on the parade... U - turns in cul-de-sacs are interesting prospects, especially when following a bunch of children whose average speed made us wonder if the pub would still be open at the end of it!  Much gratitude is owed to Grant, Lynne and Emma for all their hard work, not least in doubling as auxiliary bar staff.  Hopton's have also added the re-construction of suspension bridges to our amazing repertoire (ask George about this one!).

'Hounslow' (or is it 'Feltham'?) is next on the muster agenda.... a warning order is enclosed with this issue.  Those of you who have been to 'History in Action' will recognise the scenarios for the weekend.  PLEASE REMEMBER TO BRING YOUR MEMBERSHIP CARD because you will most certainly be asked to produce it to get in.  If you don't have one, or if it has been lost, contact one of your officers immediately so that we can do something about it.  If you leave it to Friday night you'll probably be out of luck!

Tilford orders should be out soon (thanks to Dodge), and we can confirm that Powderham is definitely happening on August Bank-Holiday, so you can book your holiday in Devon now.

I look forward to seeing you all at the "London Historical Action Spectacular".

  Martin

Editorial

At last the season is well under way with a wonderful event at Corfe followed by the Major Muster at the Bath and Wells Showground. Many thanks are due to the organisers of both these events in particular to Nicola and Steve Burden who managed to convince the National Trust that we were a good idea again. Okay so it didn’t go quite to plan the first day and we did have a few items missing which did cause a little embarrassment to the organisers However along with The Fairfax Brigade the Monday show was brilliant, a wonderful scenario which genuinely captured the crowds imagination and with Ursula’s portrayal of Lady Banks moving grown men to tears we managed to save a lot of pride. Well done to all concerned.

An impromptu Officers meeting was held on the Sunday night to discuss the problems that occurred during the first day and it was decided that in future for Hopton’s events we would have a Muster ‘overseer’ who would ensure what we promise to a sponsor will be what we actually supply to that muster and that the number of hiccups is minimised to nil. The Muster Overseer’s appointment was then discussed very briefly until George told Martin he would be doing it!

So Hopton’s have become a group of non drinkers now have they? Me, Georgie and Margaret strived to put up the brand new tent before any of you arrived (which strangely we did), supplied it with 72 pints of Cheriton Bitter all free of charge only to see most of you troop off to a beer festival in the Greyhound and pay £2:40 for the privilege of drinking 40 beers from around the country. That’s what I call disgusting that is. I mean me and Georgie had to drink what we could all on our own in the freezing cold with a daughter and a dog that really wanted to be down the pub with their mates, but as manly and brave as we were that night we couldn’t quaff it all, some had to be thrown away on the Monday evening!  

Conversely you were of course the ‘Bees Knees’ when it came to drinking for real in front of the public (where it really matters!!!!!) and you managed (with a little help from the barman) to drink the place dry before Nicola called last orders at 5:00pm. Thank you for all your support of the ‘beer tent’ during this mammoth festival, especially, as stated above we had rather good opposition. Just one minor complaint though, a couple of you managed to evade the beer collection tin that was rattling around on the Monday. If you had a few too many pennies in your pockets at the end of the muster, they may just belong to me, or worse Georgie!

  Ed

  Dates For Your Diary

CONFIRMED

·        June 22^nd/ 23^rd Wythenshawe Hall, Manchester (Tyldesley’s R.I.E.)

(Warning Order enclosed)

·        July 6^th/ 7^th 2002 – Historical Spectacular, Bedfont, West London (R.I.E.)

(Warning Order enclosed)

·        August 9^t /10^th 2002, Farnham, Surrey R.I.E (Hopton’s event)

     (Warning Order enclosed)

·        August Bank Holiday – Powderham Castle, Devon R.I.E (Hopton’s event)

·        September 7^th/ 8^th 2002, Corfe Castle R.I.E (Hopton's event)

Letters and Articles

Got it wrong again Dad!

No one likes being criticised, least of all when one is trying ones damndest to get it as right as possible, a bit like Coronation Street I suppose. I like it least when we are criticised from within our own society, because we can assume that some of these people know what they are talking about, some of the time. However occasionally criticism is sometimes warranted if for nothing else than to kick us up the proverbials every now and again.

A new web site (http://mysite.freeserve.com/historyact) has evolved which basically looks at standards of re-enactment from all periods, with the various societies and groups that portray that period and under what guise. In the seventeenth century section are various pictures of Fairfax (looking very correct!!) and other re-enactors (or some could actually be Fairfax) that get it hopelessly wrong. One of the articles shows a very pretty Ensign, looking the part. Next door is a picture of a commonly dressed soldier carrying the Colonels colour, and yes! You guessed it; the picture is of Hopton’s (at Corfe Castle last month). The caption alongside the pictures is typically ingenuous although one must say very correct. It states ‘The Ensign (as seen left) was a junior officer. He carried the honour of the regiment and it’s constituent companies and should be dressed, and act accordingly’ Then it refers to the picture of our Ensign. ‘What can I say! The ‘Ensign’ on the right is carrying the flag of the colonel commanding the whole regiment. This was a position of privilege. Yet he is dressed as a common and particular scruffy soldier with a small strip of fabric representing what was actually a broad and 12ft long scarf (sash), usually made of silk (see photo left), and yes, almost inevitably he is wearing desert boots.’

Needless to say we can come up with many excuses, most of them very genuine, but none of them actually count. The web site doesn’t say we had very particular difficulties that morning nor that we had vital equipment missing and that most people were hell bent on trying to sort out other things rather than worrying about the state of the geezer carrying the flag. The point is though that everybody reading this from within the society will know automatically that it is Hopton’s that got it wrong, when in actual fact there are many of us within our little coterie that are genuinely striving for improvement.

Now I’m not going to publish who the Ensign was in this publication, if you go to the web site you could probably find out easily enough. I know that it wasn’t his fault that he was the only one left to pick up the standard, when it was time for everyone to march off as he knew it was a job that had to be done. It’s our collective fault for letting this ‘flag carrying job’ get itself demoted to the position it seems to have been relegated too. In future I would suggest (ever so ’umbly) that a Commissioned Officer takes charge of the flag and if he can’t find a suitably attired person to hold it then he should do so himself!

I suppose the moral to this tale is for everybody to pull there collective leg ties up a little bit more at Living Histories, concentrate on the product we are selling and stop relying on one or two people to pull us through. I know it’s an old argument, but lets face it, this time we have been caught out……………….badly!

  Pip

Musters of Yesteryear

The First in an occasional series, looking at past musters and telling the truth to our new generations, revealing how small insignificant little things have been blown out of all proportion by folk rumour, gossip, bravado and general bull shit. In this the first episode I have chosen a pair of musters that in my fading memory keeping getting mixed up with each other, so in all likelihood the story I shall relate are actually two stories/musters rolled into one.

Essex Musters

In the early part of the 90s Essex musters came long like the proverbial Essex girl, inasmuch as they were hot, plentiful and generated an awful lot of fighting. The first thing I remember about any of them was actually at the muster before the first one, where we were told that under no circumstances were we to patronise the beer tent owing to the Lord General getting himself barred Naturally we all took umbrage, swore allegiance to the Guv’nor and promptly ordered beer from the local brewery to drink around the campsite in order the thwart the evil Crouch Vale brewery in their quest for whatever it was they wanted.

All sounds good so far eh? Well, things started going pear shaped fairly quickly with the arrival of the beer that first needed setting up before settling down. When told that we only had lager to drink on that first night a quick decision was reached which involved going down to the beer tent for experimental purposes and just to gloat that we wouldn’t be there for very long anyway. And what a night that was. The band seemed to go on all night, even louder than normal (I think this was the root cause of the L.G. getting banned!), the beer was in excellent form and being a) hot and b) the first night of a muster most Hopton’s left the beer tent with let’s say different vows to those that they entered with, if not different woman.

On the field of battle, the pike easily tipped the scales at about 30 strong and in those days I suppose the musket would have been around the ten mark. The entire army was immediately marched forward and very soon we came into contact with the R.A. rear guard, or at least what we thought were the rear guard. They were in fact only Sea Scouts (girls included) and the eldest couldn’t have been more than fourteen. They were only there to look pretty, to get a bit of experience maybe, whatever, they certainly weren’t there for what was about to happen.

I was about mid-block and cruising nicely in port- for- press mode and certainly didn’t hear the apparent frantic screams from the front row pike men imploring us to stop for ‘goodness sake’, or something like that!  I did think it was an extraordinarily easy push but it didn’t occur to me that anything was wrong until I spotted some very mangled children sized limbs below our size 14 D.Bs.

The rest of the day wasn’t as much fun. The R.A. were naturally very peeved and for the rest of the days fighting we were led a merry dance beating off Roundhead attack after attack often without any success, it was with doubt the worst ‘beating of my life’

Apparently we had committed the cardinal sin of smashing to pieces some little people from the sea scouts who had come along to watch from the rear and were not expected or (expecting) to be a part of the battle, let alone a first frenzied push from 30 emotionally psyched up Hopton’s pikemen.

So then back to the campsite to drink the beer that had been quietly waiting for us, and after being dismissed we eagerly made our way back to the tent to where it lay. Some Twat had moved it. Real Ale left overnight to marinate nicely and then some idiot moved it. Bully went spare and in order to soothe him a little I took him down the beer tent.

Well towards the end of a fairly long session a decision was reached to the effect that we should return to the camp site, drink the beer whatever the quality and try to engender a spirit of a family style regiment by starting a camp fire to keep us warm, this in temperatures of about 85^o.  I’ve seen other regiments camp fires, as you all have, but I’ll wager my mortgage that the majority of you have not seen a campfire, (well any fire actually) as big and as dangerous as the one that we fought to control that evening. Obviously it started as a few mundane little flames until new recruit and potential sponsor Andy Wall (Landlord of the Copper Key, our base in Devon) spotted about 300 palates close by.

A few short minutes later the camp site was turned into an inferno, the cosy regimental get together was turned into an no-go area the size of your average cricket square, and the flames were shooting to about 40 foot. Caravans were melting, tents were scorched, children were crying whilst being baked, Steve McQueen and Paul Newman came dashing over from the beer tent, and naturally Fred resigned. Andy went after more wood, and the beer was drunk in the traditional manner. Hazzah for Bully!

The following day (after the meltdown) we got absolutely thumped again by the R.A. before adjourning to the beer tent to literally lick our wounds and get ready for the big night out which was ‘The Chelmsford 60^s Music Spectacular’ featuring Lonnie Donegan, Freddie and The Dreamers and The Searchers accompanied by much manic pogo-ing from the Hopton’s London based contingent.

All in all one of the more easily remembered musters if only for all the wrong reasons, I could go on and tell you the story of the loos, but this being a respectful family magazine, I think not, that is without doubt truly unbelievable.

  Pip

From our Correspondent at Warre, 7^th May.

Following our policy of bringing our readers full information on the current lamentable warre, we learned of a possible attempt by a rebel force to invest the stronghold of Corfe Castle, held for the King by the indomitable Lady Bankes (who, in a much later period of history, would play the part of Ursula Goodall!) and her tiny household. Your correspondent was therefore despatched thither to bring these events to your attention.

Many a glance was made towards the calendar to verify that this was really May, since the Sunday dawned clear and cold, after a very cold night. Lord Ralph Hopton’s Regiment of Foote was joined by a small group from Sir Thomas Lunsford’s Regiment of Foote, especially released for the occasion! The soldiers camped at ‘Blandford Forum’, otherwise known as the overflow car park of the National Trust at Corfe, a most pleasant campsite! The assembled company was briefed to expect a call to arms from a horse, which event was eagerly awaited! Regretfully the call, when it came, was delivered in a much more mundane fashion, (a National Trust assistant via radio link) and the company marched valiantly through the town with colours flying, to assist the garrison of the castle. A worried (and irritated) Capt. Lawrence, (aka Steve Burden), was observed upon the castle’s bridge, but nevertheless our intrepid warriors entered the castle, and formed up inside, to almost complete indifference from Lady Bankes and her household! The reason for his irritation and for her indifference soon became obvious, - the call had been premature! The company was not yet supposed to be there, and therefore had to remain invisible, a somewhat surreal experience! A group of rebel ‘seamen’ soon appeared and demanded that the good Lady relinquish her cannon to them. The discharge of her piece in their direction soon acquainted them with her reply, and they fled the castle in disarray!

Having hastily despatched the request for assistance, the assembled company became visible, and could now be formally welcomed and provided with sustenance and ale (was it free, we ask?) provided by the good ladies, whose untiring efforts were, as always, most greatly appreciated by the soldiers. The company then provided a fine display of precision drill in the form of “Mars’ Triumph”, to the great appreciation of the very large, (rumour suggests almost capacity), audience provided for the occasion by the National Trust! The audience also provided much needed target practice for the musketeers, and their histrionics on the hillside were most realistic!

It soon became obvious that rebel forces, in the shape of The Fairfax Battalia, had encamped in the area known as ‘the Rings’, and they commenced an ineffectual bombardment of the castle. Musket pickets were despatched to guard against surprise, and were soon engaged with a strong force of rebels under the command of Sir Walter Earle, who also has a ‘later’ existence in the shape of Mr. Stephen Foster! The rebels drove the meagre force of defenders back into the castle by weight of numbers and your correspondent, (in spite of his ‘chit’!) was prevailed upon to join the defenders in their plight. A withering fire was poured upon the besiegers, who were now trying to scale the castle mound to invest its walls. The intensity of the fire, and the courage of the small band of defenders demoralised the attackers, and it became obvious to them that the attempt was doomed to failure. A general retreat began, and the defenders were able to reform outside the castle, and to march to complete the defeat. A bloody skirmish ensued beneath the walls, and the rebels were finally driven off in disarray, leaving the castle still in the hands of the brave Lady Bankes, who returned the insults of the rebel leaders with great spirit! Great was the carousing and celebration that night within the town, although the legendary generosity of the good Lady did not apparently extend to “drinks all round for my valiant men!”

Monday morning provided evidence that the ECWS was still able to perform its ‘rainmaking’ duties, since steady rain had fallen during the night, (also very cold!) and the day dawned overcast and full of drizzle. However your correspondent is glad to report that no diminution of enthusiasm could be detected, and the events of the previous day were repeated. On this occasion, however, the call for assistance arrived at a more appropriate, if rather late, moment, and the ensuing march to the castle was carried out at a speed that, in a later period, would not have disgraced a Ghurkha regiment!  The famous “Hopton’s Children’s Drill” attracted the usual eager band of participants, and may indeed possibly have provided some potential new recruits! The weather became kinder, although a shower during the ‘siege’ failed to dampen anyone’s spirits, and a smaller, but no less appreciative, audience seemed to enjoy the displays. Following this, the participants returned reluctantly to the ‘unreal’ world awaiting them ‘outside’.

It should perhaps be pointed out here, for those of our readers who may be unfamiliar with the above outline, that the events portrayed followed fairly closely the events of the siege of Corfe Castle in 1643. In that year Lady Bankes, whose husband was with the King in York, received demands to relinquish the four small cannon that she held within the castle. These demands were indeed backed up by a show of force by ‘forty seamen from Poole’, and were initially repulsed. However due to threats to burn the houses of her tenants in the town, Lady Bankes was forced to relinquish the cannon, and was banned from acquiring supplies from Wareham or elsewhere for provisioning the castle. She did, however, gain some measure of peace and independence, and it soon became obvious that as a result of what they considered a ‘victory’, the Parliamentary forces failed to keep a proper watch. Thus Lady Bankes was able to provision the castle far more extensively, and to send for help from Prince Maurice and the Marquis of Hertford. The resulting siege (which actually lasted six weeks), portrayed above, was indeed repulsed, and she continued to hold the castle, even after her husband’s death in 1644. It is a shame to report that the castle eventually fell in 1646, as a result of treachery, not least with the help of the above-mentioned Capt. Lawrence! The destruction of the castle was commenced shortly afterwards, with the results that we see today.

Writing with my ‘modern’ hat on, this re-enactment certainly brought home to us just how difficult it would have been to take the castle by force. The ruins today are imposing enough, but when the castle was complete and inhabited, it must have presented an awesome and terrifying prospect to a besieger! No wonder those besiegers were less than enthusiastic, (unlike their modern understudies!). The original castle builders certainly knew their stuff, and I doubt if it could ever have been taken without ‘inside’ help!

As a final summing-up of these events, your reporter feels that grateful thanks should be extended –

To Lord Hopton’s Regiment for their invitations and for arranging it all, and to their good ladies for their efforts in provisioning.

To The Fairfax Battalia for their good humoured and strenuous efforts, which excited admiration on all sides, especially those ‘stunt-men’ who provided such spectacular falls at what seemed like great risk to themselves. Ouch! Will their regiment lose them to Hollywood, we ask? Being a ‘loser’ is not easy, and your reporter is only too well aware of how it feels to be on the ‘losing’ side!

To the National Trust, for providing such a beautiful location and campsite &,

Finally to the all the visitors who, by their obvious enjoyment, appreciation and comments afterwards, made it all worthwhile.

  Bob Gardiner

Knowing your Officers

  A Guv’nor – Steve Burden

Legendary ex Punk Rocker and one time Kings Road icon Steve ‘beast’ Burden after a glamorous and highly profitable career in appeasing Japanese tourists yearning to be seen with a real ‘London Punk’ now spends most of his time dressing up for a wider audience as a Governor of St Michaels Mount (Cornwall) in his country estate known as Lodge Farm (Dorset). Never one to be put off by semantics Steve has used his ‘nobility’ to great effect by putting on muster aplenty in the nether regions of the Purbecks and beyond to great amusement of many an ECWS enthusiast.

Always the charming and debonair figure on the field with the gift of the gab and the knack of extorting money from sponsors, Steve’s latest claim to fame is the continued storming of Corfe Castle just to prove to the National Trust that he has some friends, even though this is sometimes detrimental to his health.

Steve has been a true Hopton for many many years now, going back into to the time that re-enacting forgot when the ECWS was in its formative years as ‘The Kings Army In The West’, and because of this we can almost use ‘Legend’ in the same sentence. Almost but not quite.

Could everybody PLEASE read this……………

Thankyou!

Your illustrious Captain is taking a serious stock take of all muskets in the regiment. I suppose this is because he’s a teacher and nothing pleases him better than reading off names and putting little ticks next to them (he’s only used to marking crosses). Therefore if you have a musket in your possession could you please phone Pete (right now!!! on 01226 767699  and let him know the serial number of the gun. Please leave a message on his answer phone if he’s down the pub.

I know this has all been done before but we have to please various authorities at least once a millennium and it’s come around again. Once again could you please phone him NOW!………………Officers included!!

iPp on behalf of Etpe

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