I was heartily disappointed with it, I remember, and
thought it--as I still think it--an indifferent piece of work.
However, I have tried to write for these thirty-five long years, and
if I have not become practised in letters, I am at least a past master
in the Lodge of Disappointment. Such as it was, "The Bowmen" appeared
in _The Evening News_ of September 29th, 1914.
Now the journalist does not, as a rule, dwell much on the prospect of
fame; and if he be an evening journalist, his anticipations of
immortality are bounded by twelve o'clock at night at the latest; and
it may well be that those insects which begin to live in the morning
and are dead by sunset deem themselves immortal. Having written my
story, having groaned and growled over it and printed it, I certainly
never thought to hear another word of it. My colleague "The Londoner"
praised it warmly to my face, as his kindly fashion is; entering, very
properly, a technical caveat as to the language of the battle-cries of
the bowmen. "Why should English archers use French terms?" he said. I
replied that the only reason was this--that a "Monseigneur" here and
there struck me as picturesque; and I reminded him that, as a matter
of cold historical fact, most of the archers of Agincourt were
mercenaries from Gwent, my native country, who would appeal to
Mihangel and to saints not known to the Saxons--Teilo, Iltyd, Dewi,
Cadwaladyr Vendigeid.
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