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Llewellyn ap Lewis
Known as Llew Goch (Red Lion)
Returning from France with my friends, some of them with nothing but the clothes on their backs, I at least have been able to take advantage of my family’s connections. I find that again taxes have been increased by the English and their laws still hurt and penalise the people of Cymru, many of whom risked life and limb to fight for the English King abroad. Henry V being King of England and France believed his people in France had to be treated with respect, tis a shame he didn’t treat his subjects in Cymru with the same dedication.
Thinking back over the last few years, I wonder how I’ve survived.
I was born in Ewenny, Bro Morgannwg near the river Oggemore under the control of the Duchy of Lancaster, in a village that had been built around a Priory. The Black Death took many but this was to my grandfather’s advantage for the shortage of labour meant he could rent a little land that he farmed and which we still work today. It put my mind at ease when I had to be away from home to know that the Benedictine monks would take care of my family if needed. Though I was grateful for those Monks, many was the time that I was glad to get away from their continual chanting, the noise was oft enough to raise the dead in many a far off place.
When I was but 5 my father made my first bow of elm and as I grew he taught me how to carve a bow to suit my ever growing frame and weight. The bow was so rough that I covered the handle with rabbit skin to stop the blisters on my hands. My father and grandfather had been bowmen and had taught me well, and I put my skills to good use in hunting, my mother ever lived in fear of me being taken as a poacher, although this did not stop her from enjoying the game I would fetch home.
My grand-father and father often reminisced of English Lords and Princes they had been to war with, Richard II, John of Gaunt, Bolingbroke, Henry of Monmouth, Edward of Woodstock who in history would be known as the Black Prince because of the armour he wore, being as black as soot.
In 1367 England decided to recruit an army of mercenaries to support the cause of King Peter of Castile with the incentive of plundering the riches of that country. Edward of Woodstock brought together a huge army. The Battle of Nájera, was fought in the province of La Rioja. My father was to meet my mother when Edward of Woodstock marched into Spain with other armies from Aquitaine, Majorca, Navarra, and the best European mercenaries hired by the Black Prince and of course Welsh archers. He saw his Genovive a daughter of a wine merchant in one of the local taverns; there and then he decided she would be his wife.
As I grew I had a taste for adventure and with the confidence and strength of youth I decided to follow my friends and use my bow to fight for who ever paid me.
Before I went to the garrison in Munmouth my father, gave me his sword which his father had given him, it still held its edge. He told me the sword had saved him many times when arrows were short and no other weapon was at hand, it was a short sword with a thickening blade that I could see had been used many times. Its name is GOCH he whispered so none should hear save me and him, for as Archers our superstitions are many and naming precious things is a must, the English never knew why. Pray God it serves you well he said, hoping I would never need to use it or have it dripping with the red blood of my enemy. I carry with me my Grandfather and Father for I have their sword ever at my side.
My skill as a bowman has taken me to many countries in support of different English Kings and Lords, I have fought in Ireland, Spain, France, in unnamed towns and villages that meant nothing to me, though as an archer I have been paid well, well enough to feed myself, with a little over to take home to my family.
In 1400 when I was 22 I heard about Owain Glyndwr a Cymru lord rebelling against the English, it seemed to me that I should join him and fight for freedom, a chance to free my Country and a chance to free my family from the tyranny of the English my aim to win a fair and better life for my loved ones.
I well remember that day, Saint Albans day in June at Bryn Glas near the village of Pilleth, a day when 3000 of my brothers ‘Y Meibion’ beat off our country’s enemies on this soil we call home. We captured a man who should have become king, who in time would bring his supporters to our fight.
These men I lived with in the wilds of Cymru running and fighting for our Prince, they had saved me from death in battle and helped me survive the worst winters that any man should live through. The English accused Glyndwr of being a sorcerer and when their armies were ready in the Marches, they with a mind set to inflict as much pain on us, as they destroyed our great Abbey in Strata Florida, when Aberystwyth and Harlech Castles fell we knew the struggle was just starting.
We fought with a passion that was inherent in us all but to no avail; we were beaten and would become outlaws. A pardon was offered by Henry for those who had fought with the mighty Glyndwr. Taking the royal pardon I had to show I was with them, this was the only way I was able to survive and protect my loved ones but they could not buy my mind, I would always be ready to fight again for our beloved Cymru if needed. To this day the English still search for Owain Glyndwr but in vain, his son Maredudd tells us, the people of Cymru will never surrender his father to the Saes (English). Glyndwr was and is Tywysog y Cymru.
This year is 1415 and those of us that had taken the Royal pardon mustered at the behest of Henry to go fight in France. We met at Tretower Court Brecnock belonging to the family of Vychan. It was another war that meant nothing to the hundreds of mercenary archers but the call of reward was too great on our empty purses and bellies. The Meibion knew that Henry had only offered the pardon for he had need of our skills and the mighty Welsh longbow if he was to stand any chance at all against the force of the French.
At the port of Harfleur events did not go as Henry the English King planned and the time spent in taking this Port cost us dearly. We slept where we could, ate what we could find and drank the ale that was available which was all contaminated. We were cursed with dysentery and disease was rife. When we finally left we were ordered to march north to Calais and then home, that was Henry’s plan as winter was due and the weather would be against us for further fighting. We were exhausted and hungry but alas we could not avoid the French for they tracked us all the way and we arrived at a village called Azincourt.
Here a battle was fought against many thousands of confident French. My archer brothers were not all from Cymru there was Gerald our Captain of Archers who had joined us when Mortimer was taken at Bryn Glas, Owain Tewdwr and Mul of Ceredigion who I met in Ireland fighting with Richard II, Robert of Kidwelly and his son Christopher, Sion who had to leave Scotland unjustly accused of murder, John and Little Josh the youngest of us all. It was Sion who reminded us that with the French fought some friends who had not taken the kings pardon and thereby were forced into battle.
Against all odds many of French nobility perished that day. I confess that even I admired Henry for his masterly battle plan; this with the might of the Welsh and English Longbow and our skill meant we were a match for all on that wet and miserable day in France.
Twas in France that I met Nell, she had followed her man to war he too was an archer, but when killed she was alone. We found her dressed as a lad, hiding in a ditch. As archers we look after our own so we took her in. Mul’s wife who travelled with us and Nell became friends. When she started to tell us who she was I found out to my surprise that her family came from Munmouth, where I had been garrisoned under the command of the Duke of Lancaster and his son Bolingbroke. As time went on and having Munmouth in common we spent time together. One day while were practicing at the butts we were all taken aback, when she loosed an arrow hitting a target that many of the English bows were having trouble doing, my friends told me “keep an eye on her brawd”, I did and today she is my wife.
I took Nell home with me and she was well received by my mother, who accepted her and in time as she had done with my sisters taught her many cures and potions for healing. Father said the reason we survived the Plague was that my mother understood the natural remedies that she had learnt from the Jews that passed through her village when she was young..
In all these years so many friends have died through hunger, infirmity and the enemy's sword, and Meibion became but a memory.
Not many of the Welsh archers I had fought with had known of my past and secrets that I have lived with, my little friend Mul from Ceredigion and his wife mistress Nia were the only people I trusted outside my family to keep my secrets, and over the years supported me to the pledges I have given. It was the marriage of John of Gaunt to the Spanish Infanta Constance which was to change my family’s life, starting with my father and then me. From a mere archer who was to travel and trade under an assumed title as an emissary in foreign courts.
As Archers we didn’t generally mix with knights of noble birth, but they had to protect us as we them. Over the years we had met many, they knew without us all our lives would be so much shorter. When trading and dealing in Spain and France I was to meet with the Freemen of Gwent as they were known. These men and women some of noble birth had fought in many of the same battles as Meibion. To us they were known as the FOG.
Needing to visit France and Aquitaine and knowing that some of the FOG had lands given them by the English crown, I was to join them taking my wife and Nia who was now alone.
With my mother’s family in Rioja I was able to trade in wine. The fear and disdain Castile had for England I was able to penetrate the courts of this enemy of England.
Trading in foreign lands was made possible due to my mother’s family, and knowledge of the language, but most of all my commissions to travel and trade were permitted by John of Gaunt who had commissioned Geoffrey Chaucer to compile the required travel papers. His friendship with his future brother in law enabled this.
With the protection of the FOG and the men and women of many talents who were willing to take on any foe who wished them harm we travelled.
So there it is, an archer by birth who with much help from friends, had fought with a prince who had battled and lost to an enemy who has now employed me.
My father oft told me of stories that the Bards tell of Cymru that was once free, a free land with its own Princes who ruled the old way, thinking of the people not themselves.
Would that the English crown be the same.
For my people have their own Crown be it hidden, but make no mistake it is there, they have their own Country, their own language, their own beliefs and their own Bowmen of which I still am but one.