squire, by the improvement of society, and the grievous advancement of
knowledge; among which there is none, I believe, that causes him more
frequent regret than the unfortunate invention of gunpowder. To this he
continually traces the decay of some favourite custom, and, indeed, the
general downfall of all chivalrous and romantic usages. "English
soldiers," he says, "have never been the men they were in the days of
the cross-bow and the long-bow; when they depended upon the strength of
the arm, and the English archer could draw a cloth-yard shaft to the
head. These were the times when, at the battles of Cressy, Poictiers,
and Agincourt, the French chivalry was completely destroyed by the
bowmen of England. The yeomanry, too, have never been what they were,
when, in times of peace, they were constantly exercised with the bow,
and archery was a favourite holiday pastime."

Among the other evils which have followed in the train of this fatal
invention of gunpowder, the squire classes the total decline of the
noble art of falconry. "Shooting," he says, "is a skulking, treacherous,
solitary sport in comparison; but hawking was a gallant, open, sunshiny
recreation; it was the generous sport of hunting carried into the
skies."

"It was, moreover," he says, "according to Braithewaite, the stately
amusement of high and mounting spirits; for, as the old Welsh proverb
affirms, in those times 'You might know a gentleman by his hawk, horse,
and greyhound.' Indeed, a cavalier was seldom seen abroad without his
hawk on his fist; and even a lady of rank did not think herself
completely equipped, in riding forth, unless she had her tassel-gentel
held by jesses on her delicate hand. It was thought in those excellent
days, according to an old writer, 'quite sufficient for noblemen to
winde their horn, and to carry their hawke fair; and leave study and