Llewellyn was one of five hundred Welsh longbow men at Agincourt. There were five thousand archers all told.

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Agincourt............a Poem by Neil England

I am Llewellyn, bowman to the King
and to my King I bend my Welshman’s will.
Shall minstrels sing one day of this man’s aim
as loyal geese, unquivered, flock to kill.

Pray I’m strong as granite rock in archer’s guise.
Lord bless these wings of war that I send high.
Unflinched by armoured breast and horses hoof
a Kingdom’s rain of death should please thine eye.

I know thee not black Knight on foreign soil,
but wish you harm I must this deadly day.
And in my will to see my love again,
I’ll launch my arrows on their vengeful way.

As sods now tremble under mighty hoof
five thousand bows unleash the night on day,
and surely I will turn and run for home
should humming flights intent on death, lose sway.

Never did I hear such choral screaming
as leapt impaled, up from those charging Knights.
Never did I want to see such carnage,
as English arrows slaughtered realm and might.

The birds feast hard this stenching deathly day.
Llewellyn’s bow has served its call to war.
My pride sits well in loyal act now done,
as brave man murders brave man, in bloody Agincourt.