Owen Glyndwr and the Last Struggle for Welsh Independence / With a Brief Sketch of Welsh History - A. G. Bradley

The said Miles Walter, moreover, is

“the most valiant man at arms in Herefordshire or the Marches as he has served his Majesty well and lost all that he hath. He begs for a hundred lances and six hundred archers at once until your most gracious arrival for the salvation of us all; for, my most dread Lord, you will find for certain that if you do not come in your own person to await your rebels in Wales you will not find a single gentleman that will stop in your said county [Hereford], and leave naught that you do not come, for no man that may counsel you to the contrary. This day the Welshmen suppose that and trust that you will not come there and therefore for God’s love make them false men.... For salvation of your shire and Marches trust you naught to any lieutenant.

“Written at Hereford in very great haste.

“Your humble creature and
continual orator.”

I have somewhat tried the reader’s patience, perhaps, with such a multiplication of extracts all sounding the same note; but in dealing with scenes so scanty of all record save the bare detail of siege and slaughter, it seems to me that human voices, full of the fears and alarms of the moment, coming to us out of this almost forgotten period, have more than ordinary value. Glyndwr, too, at this moment steps out of his armour and gives us one of those brief glimpses of the man within, which one so eagerly grasps at. To what extent he was himself imbued with the superstition that surged around him and so conspicuously centred upon his own name, must always be a matter of curiosity. That he was very far from a sceptic, however, he gives us conclusive proof; for while lying at Carmarthen after settling matters with Carew, he was seized with a desire to consult a soothsayer; and acting upon this he sent for a certain Welshman out of Gower, whose reputation for forecasting future events, and “skill in interpreting the Brut,” was great. Hopkyn ap Thomas was the name of this prophet of Gower, and when Owen demanded what the future had in store for himself and his cause, the local wise man showed himself at any rate no sycophant, though a false prophet, as it so turned out. For he boldly informed the Welsh leader that within a short time he would be taken prisoner under a black banner between Carmarthen and Gower.

But all this earlier period of the summer, while Glyndwr was marching this way and that throughout South Wales, now repelling the Flemings on the west, now ravaging the English border on the east, matters in England closely connected with his own fortunes were quickly ripening for one of the most critical events of this period of English history. The Prince of Wales, after his brief raid on Sycherth and Glyndyfrdwy, had remained inactive at Shrewsbury, unable from lack of means to move the levies of the four border counties, who remained in whole or part, and somewhat discontented, beneath his banner. The Pell Rolls show a note for July 17th, of the sum of £8108 for the wages of four barons, 20 knights, 476 esquires, and 2500 archers. The King, who had been by no means deaf to the frantic appeals which had come pouring in upon him from Wales, had fully intended to act upon them in person. He was always as ready, however, to answer a summons from the North as he was reluctant to face the truth in the West. Wales had been virtually wrested from him by Glyndwr, and he had ample warning that the latter was even preparing for an invasion of England, where there existed a growing faction, wearied by his ceaseless demands for money, which produced so little glory and so much disgrace.

But once again he turned from scenes that for a long time had been a standing reproach, both to himself and England, and started for the North. Even if he had been only bent on assisting the Percys in stemming a threatened invasion of the Scots, one might well suppose that the virtual loss of what was a considerable portion of his dominions near home, together with an equally imminent invasion from that quarter, would demand his first attention. But there is not even this much to be said. The King cherished aspirations to be another Edward the First; he had already achieved a precarious footing in Scotland and made grants of conquered territory across the border to English subjects, always providing, of course, they could maintain themselves there. One has the strange picture of an otherwise sensible and long-headed monarch accepting perennial defeat and defiance in Wales, while straining after the annexation of distant territories that were as warlike as they were poor. The Percys had in fact for the past few months been playing at war with the Scots, and deceiving Henry, while laying plans for a deep game in quite another part of Britain. The King, stern and at times even cruel towards the world in general, was astonishingly complacent and trustful towards that arch-plotter, the Earl of Northumberland, who in defiance of his master, though in strict accord with equity, had kept his hold upon the Scottish prisoners of Homildon; answering the King’s letters of remonstrance in light and even bantering vein. But now all trace of ill-feeling would seem to have vanished, as Henry and his forces, on July 10th, rest for a day or two at Higham Ferrers, on their way to the assistance of the Percys; not to stem an invasion of the Scots, but to further the King’s preposterous and ill-timed designs upon their territory. But this mad project was nipped in the bud at the Northamptonshire town in a manner that may well have taken Henry’s breath away and brought him to his senses.

He has just informed his council that he has received news from Wales telling him of the gallant bearing of his beloved son, and orders £1000 to be paid to his war chest. He then proceeds to tell them that he is on his way to succour his dear and loyal cousins, the Earl of Northumberland and his son Henry, in the conflict which they have honourably undertaken for him, and as soon as that campaign shall have ended, with the aid of God he will hasten to Wales. The next day he heard that his “beloved and loyal cousins” were in open revolt against him, and, instead of fighting the Scots, were hastening southwards with all their Homildon prisoners as allies and an ever gathering force to join Glyndwr.

What was the exact nature of this alliance, whose proclamation fell upon the King like a thunderclap, can only be a matter of conjecture. There are whispers, as we know, of messages and messengers passing between Glyndwr and Mortimer on the one hand and the Percys on the other, this long time. That they intended to act in unison there is, of course, no doubt. Shakespeare has anticipated by some years and used with notable effect the famous “Tripartite Alliance,” which was signed by Glyndwr, Mortimer, and the Earl of Northumberland at the Dean of Bangor’s house at Aberdaron on a later occasion. One regrets that in this particular he is not accurate, for the dramatic effect, which as a poet he had no reason to resist, is much more telling before the field of Shrewsbury than it can be at any subsequent time.