1. David, younger son of Llywelyn ap Iorwerth, died in 1246, leaving no descendants, and the Principality was seized by the three sons of his elder brother Gruffydd—Owain the Red, Llywelyn, and David. For some years they held together, because Henry III. opposed the accession of any of them, claiming the Principality as a lapsed fief under a treaty made with the last prince, David ap Llywelyn. But after a time the king accepted the homage and recognised the rights of the sons of Gruffydd. Being thus freed from direct hostility of the English king, the joint rulers soon quarrelled, and came to open war in 1255. “By the instigation of the devil,” says the Brut y Tywysogion, “a great dissension arose between the sons of Gruffydd—namely, Owain the Red and David on the one side, and Llywelyn on the other. And thereupon Llywelyn and his men awaited without fear, trusting in God, at Bryn Derwin the cruel coming of his brother accompanied by a vast army, and before the end of one hour Owain was taken and David fled, after many of the army were killed and others captured, and the rest had taken to flight. And then Owain the Red was imprisoned; and Llywelyn took possession of the territory of Owain and David without any opposition.” Thus Gwynedd was united under one ruler.
2. It was the policy of Henry III. to collect the earldoms into the hands of his relations. Thus the great palatine earldom of Chester, having lapsed to the Crown through failure of heirs, was granted in 1254 to the king’s eldest son, Edward. Besides Chester and its dependencies Edward received Montgomery and the royal lands in South Wales (Cardigan and Carmarthen), Ireland and Gascony—in fact all the territory outside England over which the king had rights. These possessions were calculated to give the heir to the throne a varied experience and splendid training in the art of government. Edward was in need of such training, as the story of his early years shows. He was only sixteen years of age in 1255, but in the Middle Ages men lived short lives and matured very early. Edward was married in 1254, and had much experience in war and statesmanship before he was twenty. It was a wild time, and young Edward was among the wildest spirits; as he rode through the country, accompanied by his two hundred followers—mostly rollicking and arrogant foreign adventurers—who robbed and devastated the land, and thrashed and even mutilated passers-by for fun, people looked forward with great fear to the accession of such a ruffian. A few years of responsibility, and failure, soon changed him into the noblest and most law-abiding of the Plantagenets. It was Wales which gave him his first lesson. He first tried his hand at the reorganisation of the “Middle Country,” making it “shire-land,” introducing the English law and administrative system; the same policy was put in force in Cardigan and Carmarthen, which formed one shire with a Shiremoot and the usual institutions of an English county. Some Welshmen had already petitioned the king for the introduction of English law into Wales, complaining that by Welsh law the crime of the guilty is visited on the innocent relations. At best it was a task which required very careful management, and Edward and his advisers were as yet quite unfitted for it, prone as they were to violent methods, having an insolent contempt for all customs and habits which differed from those to which they were used, and all classes except their own. The result is thus expressed by the Welsh chronicler: After Edward returned to England, “the nobles of Wales came to Llywelyn, having been robbed of their liberties and made captives, and declared they would rather be killed in war for their liberty than suffer themselves to be trampled on by strangers. And Llywelyn was moved at their tears, and invaded the Middle Country and subdued it all before the end of the week.” In this work Llywelyn was assisted by descendants of Rhys, the princes of South Wales, who in Cardigan suffered from Prince Edward’s policy in the same way as the men of the Middle Country or Four Cantreds. This union of North and South Wales is one of the special characteristics of the struggle under Llywelyn ap Gruffydd. That the Welsh of the North should join those of the South was, notes Matthew Paris, “a circumstance never known before.” And Llywelyn was statesman enough to see the importance of this union and take steps to strengthen it. After recovering the Middle Country, he marched south, took possession of Cardigan and Builth—then a possession of the Crown, though in the custody of Mortimer—and gave these districts to Meredydd, grandson of the Lord Rhys, to hold as vassal—a wise measure, intended to bind the South to him by common interests. Matthew Paris, who holds up the Welsh resistance to tyranny as an example to the English, puts in Llywelyn’s mouth a striking speech in favour of unity: “Let us then stand firm together; for if we remain inseparable we shall be insuperable”—the very words of Gerald of Barry, whose advice had borne some fruit. But Meredydd soon proved a traitor, and the failure of Henry III.’s campaign in 1257 was less due to the union of the Welsh than to the disunion of the English.
3. This brings us to the third event referred to above—the proclamation of Edmund as King of Sicily. The Pope was trying to conquer Sicily, but wanted some one else to pay the war budget. After trying various people he induced Henry III. to accept the crown of Sicily for Edmund and promise enormous sums for the payment of the papal armies, and pledge his whole kingdom as security for the payment. This, coming on the top of many years of misgovernment and a long series of extortions, led directly to the crisis of the reign—the revolution known as the Provisions of Oxford in 1258, by which the powers of government were taken away from the Crown and given to committees of barons.
The disaffection against Henry III. at once made itself felt in the Welsh war. “Those who had promised the king assistance did not come;” and when the whole knighthood of England were called out to meet at Chester, only “manifold complaints and murmurs were heard.” We might have expected the Marcher Lords at any rate to rally round the king; but they were not disposed to assist in building up a royal power in Wales which would endanger their independence, and were glad enough to stand by and see the scheme thwarted. Some of them even went so far as to send secret information to the Welsh prince. The king had to retreat ingloriously, pursued by Llywelyn, and followed by the derisive sneers of the enemy. It may interest some of us to note that in this war the English army fought, as often, under the Dragon standard; probably the Dragon made in 1244 by Edward Fitz Odo, the King’s goldsmith, who was commanded to make it “in the manner of a standard or ensign, of red samit, to be embroidered with gold, and his tongue to appear as though continually moving, and his eyes of sapphire or other stones agreeable to him.” This was in 1257; the king was still less able to attack Llywelyn in 1258 and the following years, and had to agree to an ignominious truce.
Almost the whole English baronage under the leadership of Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, and Richard de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, combined against the king, who was only supported by the royal family and those of his foreign relations to whom he had given earldoms and baronies and bishoprics in England or Wales. If Llywelyn had contented himself with occupying the royal lands in Wales—the territories granted to Edward—and with seizing Powys, which held to the English king, he would have had nothing to fear at this time from the English baronage, and the Crown was powerless to resist. It is clear from the English chroniclers that there was a genuine admiration for the Welsh resistance on the part of the English people. “Their cause,” says Matthew Paris, “seemed a just one even to their enemies.” But Llywelyn attacked the great Marcher Lords; it was difficult for a champion of Welsh patriotism to avoid doing so—it may be also that Llywelyn failed to grasp thoroughly the political situation in England, as he certainly failed to grasp it after the accession of Edward I. The first to suffer severely from him was Roger Mortimer, lord of the Middle March; thus Llywelyn drove him out of Gwerthrynion and Maelienydd, and added these territories to his own. Successes like these roused great enthusiasm among the Welsh gentry, though they excited the alarm and jealousy of some of the princes (such as Meredydd, and Llywelyn’s brother David, who “by the instigation of the devil” deserted the cause and went over to the English). But the good men of Brecon revolted from their lord, the Earl of Hereford, and adhered to Llywelyn, who came down and received their homage in 1262.
The general situation was altered by these events. It became clear to the Lords Marchers that their power was endangered by Llywelyn’s success, and that they must make common cause with Prince Edward. The Lords Marchers began to form the royalist party. Thus Mortimer, who in 1258 was among the leaders of the baronial opposition to the Crown, was in 1260 acting with the king against the barons. The Mortimers were the most directly affected of all the Marchers by the successes of Llywelyn, not only because their territories lay near Gwynedd, but because nearly all their lands lay in or close to the Marches; they had all their eggs in the same basket, while the other leading Lords Marchers had large possessions elsewhere, from which they drew the bulk of their revenues, using their March lands as a recruiting-ground for their troops. Thus to the De Clares their estates in Kent were probably worth more as a source of income than the whole of Glamorgan; and they also had estates in Hertford and Suffolk and Hampshire, and elsewhere; the Fitzalans were great landowners in Sussex; the Bohuns of Hereford had broad acres in Huntingdon, Essex, and Hertford. To these men the limitation of the royal powers—especially of the power of taxing, and the king’s right to employ foreigners in places of trust—was more important than the checking of Llywelyn’s advance, which certainly weakened the king and made it easier to enforce constitutional rights against him.
Still we have here one of the causes which broke the unity of the baronage, which created a royalist party, and led to open war. This has hardly been enough emphasised. It is generally said that the question on which the barons split was the question of the recognition of popular representation in the government of the country—the question, in a word, of a House of Commons—Simon de Montfort being the leader of the popular cause, Richard de Clare, Earl of Gloucester (till his death in July, 1262), the leader of the oligarchic party, which aimed merely at transferring the royal power to a committee of barons. This was undoubtedly the most important cause of the quarrel, because it was a question of principle big with results for the future, affecting the whole course of English history, while the attitude which the barons ought to take towards Llywelyn was merely for the barons a matter of political tactics. But it is probable that the latter loomed larger in the eyes of contemporaries—certainly in the eyes of most of the Lords Marchers.
Hence it came about that, when war actually broke out in the spring of 1263, the elder of the Lords Marchers fought on the side of the king—such as Roger Mortimer and Humphrey de Bohun—though the younger men—young Gilbert of Gloucester and Humphrey de Bohun, the son of Hereford—remained under the spell of Simon de Montfort’s fascination and high-minded enthusiasm. The war began in the Welsh Marches, Simon attacking the forces of Edward of Chester and Roger Mortimer—the principal royalists. As these were also the most formidable enemies of the Welsh, Llywelyn at the same time attacked them from the other side, the baronial party and Welsh co-operating, though without any formal alliance or friendly feelings. Thus in 1263 the baronial army besieged Shrewsbury, which defended itself till “a countless host” of Welshmen, came up and began to attack it from the other side; the town then surrendered to the barons lest it should fall into the hands of the Welsh.
This campaign led to a very great defection from the baronial side: the Lord Marchers generally—such as Clifford and Fitzalan—deserted Simon, who appeared as a traitor to the country. How great the defection is shown by Simon’s words: “Though all should leave me, yet with my four sons I will stand true to the just cause, which I have sworn to uphold for the honour of the Church and the good of the kingdom; I have been in many lands, pagan and Christian, but in none have I found such faithlessness as in England.”
The royalists were now the strongest party in the Marches, and in 1264 Edward and Mortimer gained a number of successes over the troops of Simon and Llywelyn (who seem to have been acting together) and captured Brecon. But they were called off to the main seat of war in the Midlands, and Simon inflicted a crushing defeat on the royalists at Lewes, in Sussex, 1264. It appears that Welsh archers fought in Simon’s army, but these would be South Welsh, not North Welsh, the troops of Gilbert de Clare, not those of Llywelyn. The Marchers who escaped from Lewes were followed up by Simon, and being encircled by his forces and those of Llywelyn, submitted in December, 1264.