MY PERSONAL SEALED KNOT ENGLISH CIVIL WAR RE-ENACTMENT BATTLE REPORT – WESTON SUPER-MARE, SOMERSET 8th-9th August 2009
A very special battle for me as I was returning to the region of the first battle I took part in as a soldier, backs in 2003. See WESTON SUPER-MARE 2003 having missed a few shows from the latter half of 2009 for economic reasons, I was very eager to take part in this major event. The weather had been rubbish for weeks, but showed signs of improving on the eve of the journey to somerset.
HISTORIC BACKGROUND
Much of Somerset was fiercely contested in the middle period of the English portion of the English Civil War conflict, being largely taken from the Roundheads in 1643, only to be gradually taken back over the next two years. Taunton & Wells saw a lot of action, but Weston Super-Mare was not particularly important to either side. There were better coastal routes and ports at nearby Bristol, and in Wales.
The town only had 30 houses in it until the railways brought tourists to the seaside. Weston’s famous piers became a major attraction and the town flourished.
Famous one time residents have included Jeffrey archer, Roald Dahl, Jill Dando, John Cleese & Bob Hope.
FRIDAY 7th
AUGUST 2009
Amy Senior was kind enough to offer Nick Gregory and myself a lift from Manchester as she had done for the preceding LOSELEY PARK event. I headed to Manchester to meet her outside Bar Fringe, a popular bar for members of Ashfield's Company of Skippon’s Regiment in Manchester city centre. Amy had already collected Nick, and we set off at just gone noon, as the weather began to improve despite forecasts of scattered showers all weekend. I’d broken a glass bottle of Claret on route to the pub, and picked up a fresh wine at a supermarket (though I never found time to open it, so it’ll be used at York instead).
Getting out of Manchester traffic was quite slow and there were further minor delays at Birmingham, but this was nothing compared to what waited for us in Bristol. We intended to avoid the city entirely, but the Bristol Bi-Pass actually takes you right into the heart of Bristol and here the road congestion was truly horrendous. We moved less than a mile in the course of an hour, and the city virtually doubled our journey time.
There were a few strange sights to keep us from becoming too demoralized – cows walking overhead on bridges, and a duck standing casually at a bus stop, as if waiting for a bus.
We passed the site of a balloon
festival, which along with a steam-engine exhibition in Weston itself, added to
the traffic as much as our own presence in Somerset.
It was nearly 8 pm when we got
to our campsite. Sean Garvey kindly helped put up my tent with me, and then
I was able to relax and drink beer and chat to friends.
The warm weather was already
developing nicely and it was obvious now that we were in for a very hot
weekend.
I got some food from the
traders and popped into the Beer Tent. Unusually, they were serving by tokens
rather than in cash, as happens at many real ale beer festivals. While some may not have liked the system, I
rather liked it. The Beer Tent was very
busy, and full so more people were standing outside than using it.
Most of Ashfields stayed on
our own section of the campsite and I rejoined them for a while too, before
going to my sleeping bag quite late on.
SATURDAY 8TH AUGUST 2009
I got up quite early, about 8 am, to a very bright sunny morning. Others got up as the temperature made staying under canvas more unbearable. I got breakfast at traders and got into kit, ready for 10 AM drill, important given that we had several new and temporary members who needed to learn pike quickly.
We covered most of the basics and some fighting manoeuvres. We broke our now large block of some 36 members into two and pushed against each other, and I was in the losing half.
There were a few hours of resting time before the epic journey to the battlefield began. The battle was taking place on the beach several miles away from the campsite we had been given, close to the Helicopter museum. The field itself would have been a great battle-area, but we were to fight on the compacted sands of Weston, a first for me.
A fleet of cars driven by our members took us to a pre-planned march-off point, near Weston-super-Mare railway station. I travelled with Michelle day, who also took Nick Gregory & Michelle day along. It was quite a slow journey and much of the traffic was other Knotters also heading to the starting point.
We got the pikes from Becca Blaylock’s car (one of the few we had with a suitable roof rack) and formed up on a nearby playing field. The long march to war now began. In full uniform, woollen coats and steel morion helmets, we were baking. The march was estimated as being about one and a half miles. It proved to be more like three miles, but we coped admirably, and the public loved us. Seeing people on the beach dressed in light suitable Summer wear reminded me how mad we were.
The sand had a very dark; almost mud like texture, but it was good fat ground that suited studded soldier’s boots very well. We marched to the right hand flank of a large sand-mound fortress that had been built specially for the battle. We were to defend what the local media dubbed ‘Britain’s biggest sand-Castle’.
The Royalists were taking formation seawards, though the sea itself was so far out that it was virtually invisible. This was akin to desert warfare, with the heat to match. There was no shade whatsoever.
Cannon & Musket fire pealed out loudly, and the air filed with powder-smoke. The pike blocks moved to mid-arena, and before we knew it, we were clashing intensely. The first few pushes went to us, but we were slow to reform and pack in tightly. It was hard to find energy to run in the heat and when I did try to run, others walking in front were slowing down my pace, but I still managed to make the front line many times. So the next few went to our opponents.
In one push the pressure round me was very tight and as it released I popped out of the side of the block like a cork from a champagne bottle, flying face down in the sand with several bodies crashing over me.
The pace was intense and we were short of water, as the baggage water carts were not available, but the water-carriers were able to keep us from dehydrating too much.
After a brief respite, the closing engagement was to represent our massacre, though we were not going to go down lightly. The orders were to fight to the last man to stop the Royalists storming the sandcastle fort itself, as once they were in, the show was over for the day.
We fought off two pike attacks, before the third broke through our flanks. My own demise was a spectacular one in which everything went wrong at once. My lid straps snapped, springing my lid off sharply. I went crashing to the sand, and as I rose, lidless, sand spilled from another soldier’s curved helmet and plugged both of my eyes. I had so much sand in my eyes that I could barely see. I was gently steered away towards the medic’s tent, actually quite close to our position anyway. The medics were the first to notice that I was also going down heavily with heat fatigue, so they insisted on making me drink hydrate, and pour eyewash lotions into my eyes, as I watched the regiment struggling on in the closing minutes of the battle. Several others were also in the medic’s tent, mostly suffering from the heat and sand-blind-ness as I was.
Fortress taken in Royalist victory, the dead rose up and I rejoined our ranks, tasting sand in my mouth and careful not to brush my fingers against my tender eyes. We were all given bottles of water to drink, for which we were extremely grateful, and we marched back to the cars through the back streets of Weston, to the delight of the people finding the 17th century coming down their streets.
Michele day left the driving to Alec Bickerton on the return, and we stopped off at a local supermarket to use their bathrooms as a place to clean the sand from our hands and faces. My boots made the store-floor into a skating rink so I had to tread very carefully.
Back in camp, there was a book sale of second hand books, mostly Civil War Related, with donations to the regiment’s charities, so I bought a book and then I went to find the repairman. This was a man on traders who can fix damaged kit. I left him with my damaged morion, and he assured me that he’d have it ready well before battle for me.
I bought some pie & chips for my evening meal and then found that Becca Blaylock & Louise Stretch had treated me and all of Ashfields to ice-cream, so I found myself eating my main meal and the afters simultaneously, which was quite nice.
Nick Gregory mixed White Russians for everyone and some cakes made for charity were sold to us, so I bought some to have for breakfast on the Sunday morning.
We drank beer in our own camping area and then headed for the beer tent where a band was playing cover versions of various songs. Heat and the long march had take their toll, so I wilted early and went to bed about 11.45 pm, though the Beer Tent closed soon afterwards.
SUNDAY 9th AUGUST 2009
I got up early, though there was no Sunday drill. It was going to be another very hot day. I had the cakes bought the previous evening, for breakfast, and got my morion back as good as new from the Repair Man.
Given the traffic flow problems the day before, we set our early to the battle form up area, and as Alec & Michelle was unable to join us, Amy Senior provided a lift this time.
We went in a quiet little bar on the railway station, where I just drank coke. Form up was very casual & relaxed and the gruelling march in the blistering heat was made more bearable through our marching songs.
Second day battles rarely prove to be exact carbon copies of the previous day events and the enemy initially attacked us from the side, rather than from the front. Initially we recovered well enough to hold advantage but they were soon reinforced to give us tighter opposition.
A horse charge caused much confusion for us, not least in that we failed to realize it was our own cavalry and n threat to us. Baggage & Musketeers ran into what they hoped was a protective cordon porcupine of pikemen, and the more experienced of us were forming one, but several newcomers having seen only the basic drill move of how to hold a pike as a stake against he foot to guard against horse, did so while still in the same lines and positions rather than trying to circle the baggage tram first. It was no matter as the cry to reform and leave our own horse alone went up soon afterwards.
Pushes became very intense engagements. In one I was so pressed in on all sides that I literally couldn’t move an inch.
The final assault and defence came round as previously and I was determined to do more given that I’d ended up in the medics the previous day. I took down a few Royalists to the fore, and we seemed to have action going on in every direction. The regiment seemed to dissolve into a series of separate attacks and defences.
A group of musketeers were valiantly fighting with their butts against a Royalist musket block who had also run out of ammunition. I raised my pike and moved it towards them over the heads of our musketry. The enemy seemed to think there were lots of pikemen rather than just a few others and myself. They retreated quickly.
A swordsman took me in the back, and I fell as if dying, and when another Royalist passing ignored me as if I was dead I leapt up and dragged him down pointing out that he really needed to make sure we really were dead. I seem to have a habit of pointing out to my victims just why they were beaten by me before I finish them off. Hee-Hee.
A trio of swords took me down soon after I rose again, and this time I stayed dead until we reformed for a march off, offering salutes and huzzahs to our hosts and sporting opponents alike.
We got handed free bottles of water again, and received rousing applause from the audience for our work. We marched back, defeated but as elated as if we were the winners. Anyone paying attention would have noticed our marching song was now the theme to Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang.
After a short rest back at camp and lots more water, it was time to take down tents, say goodbye, help clear away rubbish, and leave. As traffic was bad on the roads with so many Knotters heading out at once, we waited until about 8.30 Pm, and as we now avoided Bristol completely, we made good time. Amy got me home about 11.30 pm.
IN GRATITUDE
Thanks to Amy Senior for transportation, Alec Bickerton & Michelle Day for taking me to and from the campsite to the battle form up point, Nick Gregory for making & sharing White Russians, Sean Garvey for helping with tent raising and providing me with Velcro hose-supports, our water carriers, who coped well with limited supplies and taking water over such a distance for everyone, Tilliers, for hosting such a fantastic event, the people who handed bottles of water to everyone as we marched off each day, the medics who looked after me on Saturday, everyone in the Midland Association, and our various opponents, including in no particular order, The King’s Guard, Hopton’s & Hawkins.
LINKS
THE SEALED KNOT http://www.thesealedknot.org.uk/
PHILIP SKIPPONS REGIMENT OF FOOT http://www.skippons.co.uk/
A TYPICAL RE-ENACTMENT BATTLE CAPTURED ON YOUTUBE http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFhHsez0CR8&feature=related
PREVIOUS BATTLE REPORT - LOSELEY PARK NEXT BATTLE – YORK 2009
WESTON-SUPER-MARE ON WIKIPEDIA http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weston-super-Mare
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