Good news! I found myself some spare time (an hour or two), so I decided to type the next chapter As always, enjoy reading it! ;-)

Volume 1 - Chapter 3 - The road to victory

The year of our lord 1420, August 12th.
Montgomery, Powys Principality.
Pub ‘The Golden Pig’.

You think a while about what king Llywelyn did in the previous part of Duwalyn’s story. Didn’t he have any honour? ‘ I thought king Llywelyn was known as being ‘The honourable’’?, you ask Duwalyn. He stares in your eyes for a while, and finally explains to you why the king broke his promise of not assaulting the city of Shrewsbury, after being offered a marriage with the daughter of the head of the city council.
‘Dear friend, do you know what the English king ordered his men to do when they assaulted the city of Pembroke? When they started their conquest of our motherland?’
You sense some horrible story coming, but you don’t know what happened back then, so you answer negatively.
‘The English king asked for the city council to come out of the city for an diplomatic meeting with his ambassadors, under the sway of a white flag. Not expecting any kind of dishonourable deed, the city council did as he asked, intending on sparing the city’s inhabitants.’ Duwalyn sighed. ‘Two hours later, the heads of all members of the council were catapulted over the city walls.’
You are disgusted by this low-hearted and evil betrayal on part of the English king. ‘So now you know why king Llywelyn did not trust any kind of English diplomacy, and felt not dishonoured by his deed. He felt as taking revenge for those council members who were killed all those years ago. King Llywelyn continued his campaign with two almost simultaneous battles. The first of these battles was the battle of Chesterfield…’.

The year of our Lord 1259, January 20th.
Military camp three hours northeast of Chester, Chestershire.
Perimeter of patrolled area outside the camp.

The two men who were sent by Prince Dafydd to explore the city of Chester and it’s surrounding countryside hastily returned from their exploration trip. It was a cold evening, and the sun went under the horizon just an hour ago. Snow was lying on top of every tree and plant and the men were careful to erase their footsteps in the snow, in case if someone was following them. They were trained in the fine art of stealth and exploring enemy territory, so they definitely knew what they were doing.
Once they reached the edge of the military camp established by the prince, they let down their guard and walked with normal speed towards the centre of the camp. They were spotted by one of the patrolling officers who recognized them almost instantly. He nodded towards the pair, and said; ‘You both know in which tent the prince resides. Good luck!’

The moment they entered the royal tent, the prince stood up from his seat and said joyfully; ‘Ah there you are, my most skilled scouts. Please report your findings to me!’
The tallest of the two scouts coughed and started to make his report. ‘My prince, I do not know if the English spotted our troops in the field, or if they did it independent of us, but almost an hour ago the main garrison of Chester sallied out of the city, and were marching in a direction towards our camp!’
Prince Dafydd was surprised to hear this. ‘I don’t think they know that were are located here, otherwise they would have attacked during daytime. Attacking an entrenched army in the middle of the night in this thick forest is downright suicide. But it does not matter whether they know we are here or not, I would prefer to attack them in the open, instead of attacking them whilst they are defending Chester. Can you estimate their strength?’
‘Sir, they left some men behind in the city, so I would estimate their numbers around seven hundred. I am also glad to report that general Alan la Zouche was not with the men who sallied out of the city!’
‘Then they surely do not know our presence here. Those troops must be on their way to reinforce the area which is being attacked by my brother, the king.’ The prince strode towards a statue in the tent which was holding his decorative battle armour and weaponry. ‘Send words to the commanding officers, and ask them to make our troops ready for war. We will march out of our camp in half an hour!’



For the past hour, the troops under the command of prince Daffyd had marched through thick forests and hills in north-eastern Wales, before they were commanded to stop. They had been marching in battle formation which was typical for an army in that time. Ranged troops in rows of three man thick in front of the army, followed by the main line of infantry. The bodyguards of the prince himself, and a unit of heavy cavalry both protected the flanks of the men on foot. The line of archers consisted of Helwyr, Wales’ finest longbowmen, trained in the art of delivering a deadly barrage of arrows well over three hundred meter away. They could be the best archers by far in the whole of Britannia. Daffyd’s infantry force consisted of spearmen from the principality of Meirionnydd, as well as local town militia, Gwent raiders, and some hired Welsh spearmen. In total, there were about 1100 Welshmen present at the battle of Chesterfield.
At the other side of the battlefield, the English troops under the command of the veteran captain Loefwine assembled in a similar formation as the Welsh, although he and his light cavalry preferred to hide behind his combined shield of archers and infantry. This is probably due to the cowardness of the English, or Loefwine’s plan to run the Welsh down once they started routing. Captain Loefwine was surprised once they saw the army of Wales, but due to his long military training, he quickly ordered his men into battle formation, and waited what his Welsh adversary would do. His men included longbowmen, which are, ironically, based upon the Welsh longbowmen, as well as a combined infantry line of Chester’s town and spear militias.

Prince Dafydd ordered his horse to march along the line of his army, whilst his loyal bodyguard remained at the flank of his troops. He marched towards the centre of the infantry line and stopped there. He was utmost proud to see so much of his countrymen under his command, ready to do his bidding. He was determined to prove himself today, for himself, his brother, and all people in the kingdom of Wales!
‘It offends my eye that I should be forced to gaze upon such an unwashed and ignorant bunch of scrofulous, poxed knaves and villains. Men, I give you your enemies for the coming battle! I have rarely seen such a collection of worms and beetles beyond the dusty walls of a scriptorium! Let’s be at it, in case their stupidity should prove infectious!’. The speech of prince Dafydd would prove to be legendary one day.

’Captain Custennin, I want you and your Helwyr forward, about 30 feet, and spread out. If those English archers open fire, I do not want you to suffer large casualties. Ignite the tips of your arrows, in order to estimate the range of your men, and to make those pigs burn!’
Once Custennin had moved up his line of archers, he turned at his spot and looked at Dafydd. He looked back at the captain, seeing the grim determination in his eyes. ‘Men! Prepare your bows!’. All of the Helwyr stretched their bows. ‘Aim!’ The archers simultaneously aimed their arrows towards the sky. ‘Fire!’



It was as if hell itself was unleashed, as three hundred ignited arrows simultaneously made their way across the dark night sky. Once the barrage of arrows closed in on the English longbowmen, the prince commanded captain Custennin, and all of the commanders under his command to fire at will at the English troops. By this time the first volley of arrows hit the English front lines. Even from a hundred and fifty meters away, the Welsh troops could see English archers who caught fire and the could hear their blood-chilling screams. It was not long before a second volley was unleashed upon the English army, but by that time, the English longbowmen had their answer ready and fired a returning volley against the Helwyr. Although prince Dafydd had ordered his archers to stand at a loose formation, the English arrows proved to be present in overwhelming numbers, and about a dozen brave Helwyr fell to the ground, mortally wounded. By the time the archers had fired their third volley, and absorbed yet another volley of English arrows, prince Dafydd could see the English line of infantry making their way through their archers. He knew it was time to send in his infantry to counter theirs.
‘Captain Gronw!’ He shouted towards the spearmen from Meirionnydd.
‘Sir?’, was his answer.
‘You see those English bastards making their way across the field? Make them disappear!’
At the same time, Dafydd ordered his personal bodyguards, and the unit of heavy cavalry under the command of captain Rynwr to run to a spot a hundred meters behind the enemies rear.



By the time captain Gronw and his men were some fifty meters away from the English lines, he ordered a full frontal charge into the English. At almost the same time, the English commander must have thought the same, as the enemy troops charged towards the Welsh. At the moment of impact, spears broke, axes and shield collided, and a bloody brawl commenced. The morale of the English militia must have been very low, for they almost immediately routed once their line join the Welsh. It started with a few men running away towards their rear where captain Loefwine was located, but a few moments later, it seemed as if the entire English infantry line was routing.
‘Kill them all men! Don’t let those cowardly pigs get away!’, captain Grown shouted as he firmly planted his axe into the head of an Englishmen.



At the same time, captain Custennin ordered his Helwyr to stop firing. He was afraid his arrows would only inflict friendly casualties. Although he stopped firing, he and his men had already inflicted severe casualties in the lines of the English militia.
Once prince Dafydd saw the enemy infantry run away, he ordered his personal bodyguard to change direction and charge into the flank of the longbowmen who took position behind their captain. On the other side of the battlefield, captain Rynwyr did the same thing, but in stead of archers, he charged directly into the cavalry unit of Loefwine.
‘Charge!!’, Dafydd screamed, as he ordered his steed towards the English longbowmen. ‘This is for my father!’, as he decapitated the first archer he passed.



By this time, captain Loefwine saw he could not win this battle, and ordered a full scale rout towards the city of Chester. The Welsh cavalry was way quicker than most English troops, and thus they were cut down like grass. Many Englishmen were captured by the fast Welsh cavalry. Although a large portion of the English army was captured, captain Loefwine was able to get away, probably due to his fast horse. But nonetheless, almost an half of the enemy army was taken prisoner. After Dafydd had rallied most of his men, they shouted; ‘ Victory! Victory for our people, for our king!’
Dafydd ordered all of the English prisoners to be executed at once, one part because of his father, and the other part for making a statement towards the English king in London. He had proven himself to be a worthy commander, and had won the first battle on the road to Welsh victory. It was a total victory!