The Brothers of Calatrava: Laarden, 1688

From the journal of Don Fernando de Torrescusa, Marquess de Girona, Envoy of His Most Catholic Majesty, Carlos the Second, King of Spain, to the Flemish Free City of Laarden in 1688. 

I had seen them before, of course. In Spain, at El Escorial, and on the battlefields of Flanders and Germany. They were far harder to notice in the monastery palace of El Escorial than in sunlight. They had a habit of remaining in the corners of rooms, in doorways, slightly behind the fashionable dark wood screens shielding parts of a salon from view. Their clothing helped, as it does with priests, spies, assassins and sellswords of all kinds. And the Brothers of Calatrava were all these, and at most times together, in one.

Well, at least according to the legends. 

I’ve never been a great believer in rumours, and still less in legends. There’s always some mundane human truth at the root of a legend. Something prosaic and earthy, usually with the stink and rasp of a dungheap.

The Brothers wove the rumours and their legends together very skilfully in the Court of our Most Catholic Majesty, Carlos II. And that, dear friends, was no accident. As soon as the King revitalised the ancient order of Calatrava on his accession in 1661, there were no shortage of grandees and nobles at Court who saw an opportunity to tie their fortunes to those of the Brothers of Calatrava. 

At first, we laughed behind our hands. The Brothers were viewed as a tiresome anachronism. A medieval memory in faded black cloth - an illustrious name maybe, but shorn of any real authority. But then the Royal grants of lands, titles and positions started to be made, and things began to change. Status, money, access, influence and power – accompanied by a cascade of gold from the New Spain placed into the hands of the Brothers - facilitated an effortless rise to prominence for the Master of the Order.

Yet even despite the changing tide, in the early days most of us at Court agreed that there was little that the group of two dozen noblemen could do with a borrowed medieval name, dressed in black and praying in a Castilian fortress chapel alongside the Jesuits, to displace the intricate networks of patronage and power in El Escorial.

Ah…. but that was before Seneffe.

That was when I first saw the Brothers of Calatrava on the field in Flanders. I can almost see your smile from here as I write this page of my journal in my rooms at 'The Harvest Goose' in Laarden. “The Swords around the Throne”? “The Brothers in Black”? “The Lances of Calatrava”? Were there any more titles you wanted to bestow upon the Brotherhood to add to their reputation after that most violent of days?

Oh, there were many other reasons why the Garde du Corps from the Maison du Roi were vanquished on the field of Seneffe. I saw it with my own eyes, of course.  The ground was soft and bad for the French Horse to be deployed there. They were constricted, the flower of the Sun King’s household crammed into the narrow Field like fattened geese before St Stephen’s Day.  There were more standards among the front lines of the Garde du Corps than swords that morning. And, besides, I had never considered the Comte de Vermandois to be among the first order of the French King’s commanders. All these, and no doubt other explanations - and no doubt excuses - could be offered for what happened that day.

And yet it happened. And yes, I saw it all. 

It was impressive, watching the handful of the Brothers of Calatrava slice through the nobility of France like the Black Plague of Naples.

There were eighteen Brothers on the Field that day at Seneffe, although less than a handful survived to the next morning. But that handful was more than enough for the legends to spread, and the rumours to spiral, with even more vigour than the Brothers’ charge into the heart of the French lines.

And now I hear there are to be upwards of forty of the Brothers of Calatrava in Flanders, answering the Free City of Laarden’s call to arms. Of course, I shall not turn them away.  I have told you already that I have never believed in rumours, and still less in legends. 

Yet, if I see a miracle happen a second time, maybe even I might start to believe.

************** 

It's been a while since I visited Laarden on this Blog, and a while since I posted anything. Sorry for the continued silence! Hopefully this post might make up for the absence.

The cavalry in white and light grey are from the Walloon tercio of Horse, raised and funded by Don Nicolas de Puis between 1675 and 1692, when the tercio passed to Don Philippe Gourdin. The figures are both Dixon Miniatures and Wargames Foundry, all in 28mm, and most of them being sculpts from the last 1980s and 1990s. I think they have passed the test of time pretty well.  The details of the uniforms of the Walloon tercio of Horse and very much historical, taken from the wonderful Pike & Shot Society book on the uniforms of the Spanish Army in the War of the League of Augsberg. Unfortunately, no details of Spanish cavalry standards for the period exist, and I’ve adapted the standard from an infantry flag captured by the French at the battle of Fleurus in 1690. The flag is freehand, as sadly no-one seems to print flags for the Spanish tercia of horse in this period.

The Brothers of Calatrava are, however, not historical.  At least, not in 1688.  The Order of Calatrava was essentially nothing but a moribund, inactive order of chivalry in Spain by 1688.  Yet, with a little 'alt-historical' magic, hopefully the Brothers of the Order can take to the field again on a wargames table. 

The figures of the two Brothers are again Dixons and Wargames Foundry. The lance was from Redoubt, and was shortened down a little. The standard was again freehand, and was taken from the standard of the 13th century Order of Calatrava. I painted the two Brothers in black, as a throwback to their historical origins in the true Order of Calatrava. I wanted to leave them as being a small addition within an existing formation – which is why the Brothers of Calatrava are accompanied by four more soberly uniformed Spanish horsemen. 

I really like messing around with ‘alt-history’ in this way – creating historical formations for the wargames table which did not actually exist at the relevant time of a battle, but which could plausibly have done. I did something similar with the Baltic Horse of the Graf von Bek earlier this year –  and despite some good humoured ribbing from my friends, not grown out of the habit during 2018!

The bases for the Brothers of Calatrava are larger than those for the Walloon tercio of horse. This is deliberate for a number of reasons. In the rules we’ve been trying out, faster horse has a slightly larger base profile than slower horse (the larger base, and rounded base corners making it easier to identify the faster cavaliers on the tabletop). As regarding their use in a wargame, I reasoned that the Brothers of Calatrava could either be used alone, or to add some bonuses (and possibly some less predictable features) to an existing unit of horse.

For anyone wanting to dive into the historical Order of Calatrava, their background is much more remarkable than even their exploits on the field of Seneffe as described in Don Fernando de Torrescusa’s journal. The home of the order was the Castillo de Calatrava la Nueva – certainly somewhere I’d love to visit one day.

The Duque de Havré's "Spanish" Horse: Laarden 1688

From the journal of Don Fernando de Torrescusa, Marquess de Girona, Envoy of His Most Catholic Majesty, Carlos the Second, King of Spain, to the Flemish Free City of Laarden in 1688

Although I had met the Duque de Havré before, it had been some years earlier in El Escorial.  I have a memory of a small plump child running through sunlit rooms, chasing the Meninas before being scolded loudly by one of the Palace equerries.  Dark, moody, impish eyes in a pasty, fleshy child’s face was my lasting memory, before that face dissolved into a wail of tears, accompanied by a sulky frown.

The years had not changed the pallid complexion of his face.  He bore the trappings of wealth, influence and power openly on the field of Sorée to the south east of Namur, a league away from where the advance formations of the Sun King’s army were forming.

He had exchanged the mischievous, childhood, carefree chase through the chambers of a palace for the forced-calm and assumed sang-froid of a leading nobleman of his House.  But one glance into his eyes betrayed him.  He was little more than a magnificent butterfly, swaggering and gasping by equal measures under the incarcerating bell-jar of expectation, trapped by a hidalgo’s obligations of honour in the autumn of his aristocratic House’s life-arc.

As I looked from his Serene Highness across the dusty, July fields, I could identify clearly the standards of the French Gendarmerie, floating as if gossamer light above the scarlet uniformed cavaliers of France.  

Enemies to skewer your iridescent butterfly wings, my Lord, I thought.

But before I could caution him and suggest a way out of his breathless tomb of asphyxiating pride, he had spurred his Tobiano mare to the front of his Tercio of Horse. There was no lack of courage in the Duque de Havré, even if it was born of despair and an inability to escape the responsibilities of the glittering House of Croÿ.

*******

Now long forgotten by history, the House of Croÿ was once a formidable force in the Hapsberg politics of late 17th Century Flanders, Burgundy and the Rhinelands.  Members of the House of Croÿ were active in the complex politics of the Empire, holding impressive positions in the Imperial Court and ecclesiarchy.  Members of the House were bishops of Cambrai, Arras, Ypres, Tournai; one was the tutor and Godfather to the Emperor Charles V; another was Grand Equerry to the King of Spain.  Many were members of the prestigious Hapsberg Order of the Golden Fleece.

The members of the House of Croÿ who followed the colours and beat of the drum weave through the military narratives the 17th Century.  They travelled and fought in Italy, Spain, Flanders, Russia, Germany and the New Spain.  No doubt their influence, wealth and family connections opened many doors to military advancement and political influence.

It was therefore perhaps unsurprising that on the list of Tercios of Horse, entered on page 13 of the Pike & Shot Society’s book “The Spanish Armies in the War of the League of Augsberg: 1688-1697”, the final Tercio of Horse was that of Charles de Croÿ, Duque de Havré.

While not himself the Duque de Croÿ, Charles du Croÿ held the title of Duque de Havré, entitling him to the honorific title of ‘Principe’, and to be addressed with the predicate of “Serene Highness”. He held the award of nobility of the Order of the Golden Fleece, and I thought that both he, and his Tercio of Horse, would make good subjects for my Spanish army of Flanders for 1688.

The figures are a mixture of Dixons and Wargames Foundry.  I added some arm swaps, and some green-stuff feathers.  For Duque Charles, I added a small green-stuff Order of the Golden Fleece around his neck.  

The Duque’s horse is a piebald, and specifically a Tobiano.  These were popular in 17th Century Europe, as you can see from this study by Pieter Paul Rubens.  

The standard for the Tercio of Horse was reconstructed from the fragments of information we know about late 17th Century Spanish and Flemish flags.  “The Spanish Armies in the War of the League of Augsberg: 1688-1697” states that many of the flags for the Spanish and Flemish cavalry of the late 17th Century featured a Burgundian cross on a red field, but that other family symbols and religious images were reasonably common, often as the reverse of the standard.  I opted for an image of the Virgin and Child, although I could (and might next time) have used the family crest of the House of Croÿ.

I also added tufts from Warbases and Mini-Natur (which I picked up at Salute, 2018) 

As for weapons, this is another pistol-armed unit of Horse from the Spanish army of Flanders. Hopefully, in facing the French, the Spanish and Flemish pistol-bearing tactics will be an interesting contrast to more aggressive French swordpoints.

***

Up next, a change of scale, as I post some of the 2mm Thirty Years War forces I've been completing.

Hope you can join me for that.

Le comte de Garnier's Alsatian Horse, 1688

The last of the mounted allied regiments I've planned to paint this winter is a squadron of the Comte de Garnier's horse from the province of Alsace.  Like the Lorrainer horse, featured in my last Blog post, the Alsatian horse regiments in the 17th century Hapsberg Imperial army had a good reputation on the battlefield, supplementing Spanish and Imperial armies in the Low Countries and along the Rhine.  As such, the squadron is a good inclusion for my Spanish and Imperial forces focused on the fictional Flemish Free-City of Laarden around 1688, drawing on the uniforms and standards of the time (when I can find them). 

I've again used Dixon Miniature's Grand Alliance figures for the bulk of the cavalry, with the addition of some Wargames Foundry horses, trumpeter and mounted standard bearer.  

The two cavaliers on the separate base area really generic cavalry brigade commanders, really painted to fit with the Alsatian and Lorrainer horse squadrons.  Again, they're a mix of Wargames Foundry and Dixon Miniatures figures.  

I added green-stuff to some of the figures, mainly adding feathers, and some additional lace on the officers' uniforms.  Nothing to really change the figures, but enough to make them just a bit different for each unit formation.  The flag is, once again, from Flags of War but it's another fudge as I drew a blank on the accurate standards for the comte de Garnier's regiment.

Next up, after a short painting break, will be the Spanish regiments of Horse, and then, finally, squadrons of the French chevau-léger.

Le marquis de Lunéville, Lorrainer Horse, 1688

The Dukes of Lorraine had a complicated and difficult relationship with the Kings of France in the 17th Century, culminating in the French invasion of the Duchy in 1670. Stripped of his hereditary lands and titles, Charles V of Lorraine (confusingly also sometimes called Charles IV) served with the Imperial armies of the Hapsburgs in the 1680s and 1690s. One thing which the Dukes of Lorraine were well known for in the mid- and late- 17th Century was the good quality of their cavalry, and the Hapsburgs made good use of that advantage.

Whereas the Governors of the Spanish Netherlands recruited cavalry on a campaign-by-campaign basis, the Lorrainer Horse appears to have been maintained on a more continual (although far from permanent) basis, mirroring what was becoming the practice in the mid- and late-17th Century French armies. This allowed for greater cohesion in the field, and made the recruitment by Imperial armies of Lorrainer (and Alsatian and Burgundian horse) a common feature through the 1640s to the 1690s.

You can trace regiments of Lorrainer Horse, serving with Imperial and Spanish forces, through the campaigns in Flanders in the 1640s (at Rocroi and Lens), through the Franco-Dutch Wars to the Nine Years War, making them suitable for my army of the Spanish Netherlands based around my fictional Flemish Free City of Laarden.

I've also reasoned that, whereas Flemish horse may have preferred to use pistol firearms as a primary weapon for more recently raised cavalry, the Lorrainer horse would have been more inclined, with better training, to use cold steel. In that regard, there's a reasonable chance that makes them closer to French Cheveau-légers than Spanish or Flemish cavalry of the period.

I chose some 25-28mm Dixon Miniatures 'Grand Alliance' figures for the squadron. I went with the backplate and breastplate versions; one source I looked at suggested that the Imperial horse tended to still use heavier armour than the French horse in the 1670s. 

I added some extra greenstuff frills to the officer and the kettedrummer, such as monogrammed pistol holsters, extra lace ribbons and bows on the horses and additional lace cravats. There are also some greenstuff feathers on the hats of the troopers. This was really to try and make the regiment a little more 'French', despite their presence in the Imperial and Spanish forces allying with the Flemish forces in the field.

The squadron shown in the photographs is identified in the order of battle I've been using just as "Lunéville". It's a complete guess, but I'm assuming that it might have been raised near the current town of Lunéville in the commune of Meurthe-et-Moselle in Lorraine, close to the current German border. 

The flag is frankly a bit of a fudge. It's a lovely standard from Flags of War, but I drew a blank in trying to locate standards of the squadron. However, as the troops would have been in Hapsburg service, I can't see any reason why their standard would not have reflected their allegiance to the Hapsburgs.

For those readers curious as to where all this is heading, I’ve another regiment of Walloon horse to finish, and then I’ll be onto the Spanish horse squadrons (which finish the army) and moving on to their French adversaries.

Roundwood Recommends - Number 6: The Flemish Town of Ypres

As part of my post-Antwerp, post-Crisis 2017 Blog posts, I’ve added a few photographs of the Belgian town of Ypres below.

Ypres today is firmly associated with the First World War, being ringed by military cemeteries and incorporating the huge Menin Gate, a dramatic and deeply moving memorial to British and Empire soldiers fallen in the War but with no known grave.

But Ypres’ position in Flanders, close to the North Sea and to France meant for long before 1914 that it was an important strategic town. It was walled in the medieval period, and had its fortifications augmented by the Spanish in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, particularly after the lengthy siege of the town by Spanish troops in 1583-84 as part of the Eighty Years War. More sieges followed in 1644, 1648 and 1658, with Ypres returning to the Spanish in the Treaty of the Pyrenees in 1659. 

The Spanish Governor of the Netherlands sought to reinforce the town in the 1660s by adding an earthen citadel on the east of the town, aiming to protect the walls from the most favoured approach used by French armies in previous periods. 

The town was besieged one last time in the seventeenth century by Louis XIV and Vauban in March 1678, being finally captured in an assault on 25th March.

Following the cessation of the Third Dutch War in August 1678, Ypres was ceded to France in the Treaty of Nijmegen, being a key negotiating piece in the complex peace treaty brokered by Louis and his foreign minister, the Marquis de Pomponne. 

After the conclusion of the peace, the fortifications around the city were significantly altered by Vauban, who removed the Citadel, building an impressive hornwork in its place, and creating the watercourse which today flows around the remaining city walls. And it's Vauban's walls which you can easily visit today, as we did last week.

There’s sadly not a great deal which can be seen of the medieval walls, or the Spanish fortifications from the Sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. By contrast, Vauban’s remarkable fortifications are accessible and visible. The photos above show a small part of Vauban’s fortifications, those on the east side of the town being almost impregnable owing to the inundations, and now accommodating the even more impressive and sobering Menin Gate.

I’ve visited the town before, starting way back in 2002.  I've often thought it was a near-perfect mixture of a quiet Flanders town, with just enough nightlife and a strong historical theme. Not much seems to have changed since then, and if you’re ever in Flanders, I recommend a visit.

For anyone intrigued by the starting point for my thoughts about my fictional Flemish town of Laarden, Ypres would play a large part in those ideas.