> Thought this might be of interest to everyone....Just a little history... > > Happy Holidays, > > Marilyn > > Section IV. > > WELSH ARCHERY. > > (Continued) > > ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > [ Previous > <http://www.xs4all.nl/%7Emarcelo/archery/library/books/book_of_archery/chapter04/chapter4_4.html> > | Contents > <http://www.xs4all.nl/%7Emarcelo/archery/library/books/book_of_archery/> > | Chapter 5 > <http://www.xs4all.nl/%7Emarcelo/archery/library/books/book_of_archery/chapter05/chapter5.html> > ] > ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > > Like too many of his class in that age and country, Gam had embroiled > himself in a violent domestic feud. During an affray which took place > in the High Street of Brecknock,he unfortunately killed his kinsman, > and, to shun the threatened consequences, sought an asylum in England. > The dependency of his estate on the honour of Hereford rendered him, > like Howel Sele, a determined partisan of the Lancastrians; like him, > too, he made an ineffectual attempt on the life of Owen Glendower. > > David Gam held a command of archers on the field of Agincourt; and it > is said that, being despatched by the King to reconnoitre the enemy, > and report upon their numbers, he returned with this laconic estimate: > "an't please your highness, there are enow to be killed, enow to be > taken prisoners, and enow to run away." Historians have passed many > encomiums on his velour and conduct --Sir Walter Raleigh even goes so > far as to compare him to Hannibal-- but they make no mention of this > circumstance, which might perhaps be known only to his fellow > countrymen in arms; unless, indeed, Elmham has given a false colouring > to the transaction. He mentions that scouts were despatched by the > Duke of York to gain intelligence of the enemy's approach, when one of > them, who had climbed to the summit of a hill, saw the whole French > host, to the number of sixty thousand, stretching far and wide over > the plain beneath, which seemed on a blaze, as their polished harness > reflected the beams of a splendid noontide sun. Astonished at the > sight, he retreated with a trembling heart and the utmost speed of his > horse, and, breathless, reached the English camp;-- "Quickly," said > he, "be prepared to do battle, for you are about to fight against a > world of innumerable people." > > These three valiant Welshmen, Gam, Vaughan, and Llwyd, fell covered > with wounds whilst defending the person of their monarch, and Henry > knighted them as they lay extended in the agonies of death upon the > gory bed of honour. Sir S. R. Meyrick remarks, that the above Sir > Roger Vaughan was married to Gwladis, Sir David Gam's daughter. > Agincourt made her, as it made many besides, a widow; but she > afterwards married another hero of that day, Sir William Thomas, of > Ragland, one of the ancestors of the present Duke of Beaufort. > > I have been induced to enter thus largely into the biography of these > three individuals, because their chivalrous self-devotedness stands so > conspicuous in the annals of that memorable contest. Their heroism, no > less than Henry's Welsh extraction, gave rise to the following > spirited burst of poetry, entitled-- > > OUR CAMBRO-BRITONS TO THEIR HARP > > > Fair stood the wind for France, > When we our sails advance, > Nor now to prove our chance, > Longer will tarry. > But putting to the main, > At Kaux the mouth of Seine, > With all his martial train, > Landed King Harry. > > And taking many a fort, > Furnished in warlike sort, > Marched towards Agincourt, > In happy hour. > Skirmishing by day > With those that stopped his way, > Where the French general lay, > With all his power. > > And turning to his men, > Quoth our brave Henry then, > "Though we be one to ten, > Be not amazed: > Yet have we well begun; > Battles so bravely won > Have never seen the sun, > By fame been raised. > > "And for myself," quoth he, > "This my full rest shall be, > England ne'er mourn for me, > Nor more esteem me. > Victor I will remain, > Or on this earth lie slain; > Never shall she sustain > Loss to redeem me. > > "Poictiers and Cressy tell, > When most their pride did swell, > Under our swords they fell. > No less our skill is, > Than when our grandsire great, > Claiming the regal seat, > By many a warlike feat > Lopt the French lilies." > > They now to fight are gone; > Armour on armour shone, > Drum now to drum did groan; > To hear was wonder; > That with the cries they make > The very earth did shake; > Trumpet to trumpet spake, > Thunder to thunder. > > Well it shine age became, > O noble Erpingham! > Who did the signal aim > For our brave forces; > When from a meadow by, > Like a storm suddenly, > The English archery > Struck the French horses. > > With Spanish yew so strong, > Arrows a cloth-yard long, > That like to serpents stung, > Piercing the weather. > None from his fellow starts, > But playing manly parts, > And like true English hearts, > Stuck close together. > > When down their bows they threw, > And forth their bilboes drew, > And on the French they flew, > Not one was tardy; > Arms were from shoulders sent, > Scalps to the teeth were rent; > Down the French peasants went: > Our men were hardy. > > This while our noble king, > His broadsword brandishing, > Down the French host did ding, > As to o'erwhelm it; > And many a deep wound lent, > His arms with blood besprent, > And many a cruel dent > Bruised his helmet. > > GLO'STER, that duke so good, > Next of the royal blood, > For famous England stood > With his brave brother > CLARENCE, in steel so bright; > Though but a maiden knight, > Yet in that furious fight, > Scarce such another. > > WARWICK in blood did wade, > OXFORD the foe invade, > And cruel slaughter made, > Still as they ran up. > SUFFOLK his axe did ply, > BEAUMONT and WlLLOUGHBY > Bare them right doughtily, > FERRERS and FANHOPE. > > Upon St. Crispin's day, > Fought was this noble fray, > Which fame did not delay > In England to carry. > Oh! when shall Englishmen > With such acts fill a pen, > Or Cambria breed again > Such a King Harry? > > The enthusiasm attendant on the revival of archery in England towards > the close of the last century, quickly reached the Principality. Of > the numerous societies formed there, the first in rank and consequence > is the Royal British Bowmen. It includes nearly all the leading > families of North Wales, and was originally founded by Sir Watkin > Williams Wynne, Bart., in whose park of Wynnstay, Denbighshire, the > Royal British Bowmen hold their meetings. His Majesty George the > Fourth, when Prince of Wales, not only condescended to become their > patron, but presented them with several beautiful prizes. The prize > arrows, for both ladies and gentlemen, were first shot for, October > the 6th, 1788, when Sir Foster Cunliffe, a well-known archer, won the > former, and Miss Harriot Boycott the latter. His Royal Highness > likewise presented them with a superb gold medallion, and a silver > bugle. They were ably contested at Acton Park, when the former was > gained by Lady Cunliffe, at 30, 60, and 70 yards; the latter by R. > Hesketh, of Rossell, Esq., at 64, 96, and 128 yards. > > The Society of Royal British Bowmen still survives in all its original > splendour. Their uniform is green and buff, with black hat and > feather. I may minister to the "hæc olim meminisse juvabit" of many an > ancient bowman, by adding a list of those ladies and gentlemen who > early joined this society. > > Sir W. W. Wynne, > Lady Wynne, > Sir Foster Cunliffe, > Lady Cunliffe, > Lord Carysfort, > Lady Carysfort, > Messrs. Bunbury, Mrs. Cooke, > > St. Leger, Mrs. Puleston, > > P. L. Fletcher, Mrs. Apperley, > > Maurice Wynne, Miss Parry, > > O. Bridgeman, Mrs. Hammerston, > > Jones, Miss Hammerston, > > Warrington, Mrs. Fletcher, > > Hammerston, Miss Fletcher, > Master Wynne. Mrs. G. Warrington, > > > Mrs. Jones. > > Oh loyal in grief, and in danger unshaken, > For ages still true, though for ages forsaken; > Yet, Cambria, thy heart may to gladness awaken, > Since thy monarch has smiled on thy harp and thy bow! > > ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > [ Previous > <http://www.xs4all.nl/%7Emarcelo/archery/library/books/book_of_archery/chapter04/chapter4_4.html> > | Contents > <http://www.xs4all.nl/%7Emarcelo/archery/library/books/book_of_archery/> > | Chapter 5 > <http://www.xs4all.nl/%7Emarcelo/archery/library/books/book_of_archery/chapter05/chapter5.html> > ] > ------------------------------------------------------------------------ > >