warlike prince of Dinefwr, [40a] the defence of thy people, the divider of spoils. Thy forces are comely and neat, and of one language. Thy proud Toledo sword is gilt with gold and its edge broke in war. Thou prince of Mathrafal, [40b] extensive are the bounds of thy dominions, thou rulest people of four languages. He staid undaunted in battle against a foreign nation, and its strange language. May the great King of heaven defend the just cause of the warlike prince of the three provinces.
V.
I make my address to God, the source of praise, in the best manner I am able, that I may extol with suitable words the chief of men, who rageth like fire from the flashes of lightning, who exchangeth thrusts with the burnished steel. I stand in armour by the side of my prince with the red spear in the conflict of war, he is a brave fighter, and the foremost in action. Llewelyn, thy qualities are noble, I will valiantly make my path broad with the edge of my sword. May the prints of the hoofs of my prince’s steeds be seen as far as Cornwall. Numerous are the persons that congratulate him upon this success, for he is a sure friend. The lion of Gwynedd, and its extensive territories, the governor of the men of Powys, and the South, who hath a general assembly of his armed troops at Chester, who ravageth Lloegr to amass spoils. In battle his success is certain, in killing, burning, and in overthrowing castles. In Rhos, and Penfro, [40c] and in contests with the Normans, his impetuosity prevaileth. The offspring of Griffydd, of worthy
qualities, generous in distributing rewards for songs. His shield shines, and the strong lances quickly meet the streams of gushing gore. He extorteth taxes from his enemies, and claimeth another country as a sovereign prince. His noble birth is an ornament to him. He besiegeth fortified towns, and his furious attacks like those of Fflamddwyn [41] reach far. He is a prosperous chief with princely qualities, his Bards are comely about his tables. I have seen him generously distributing his wealth, and his mead-horns filled with generous liquors. Long may he live to defend his borders with the sharp sword, like Arthur with the lance of steel. May he who is lawful king of Cymru, endued with princely qualities, have his share of happiness at the right hand of God.
A POEM
Entitled the Ode of the Months, composed by Gwilym Ddu of Arfon, to Sir John Griffydd Llwyd, of Tregarnedd and Dinorwig.
Why the Bard called this piece the “Ode of the Months” I cannot guess; but by what he intimates in the poem, which is that when all nature revives, and the whole animal and vegetable creation are in their full bloom and vigour, he mourned and pined for the decayed state of his country. The hero he celebrates made a brave but successless attempt to rescue it from slavery. It will not be amiss to give a short account of the inhuman massacre of the Bards made by that cruel tyrant Edward the first, which gave occasion to a very fine Ode by Mr. Gray. Sir John Wynne, of Gwydir, a descendant in a direct line from Owain Gwynedd, mentions this particular, and says he searched all the records in the Exchequer at Carnarvon, and in the Tower of London, for the antiquities of his country in general, and of his own family in particular. I shall set down his own words, as I find them in a very fair copy of that history lent me by Sir Roger Mostyn, of Gloddaeth and Mostyn, Bart., a person no less eminent for his generous communicative temper, than for many other public and private virtues.
“This is the most ancient song (i.e. one of Rhys Goch of Eryri’s, a Bard who flourished a.d. 1400) I can find extant of my ancestors since the reign of Edward the first, who caused our Bards all to be hanged by martial law, as stirrers of the people to sedition; whose example being followed by the governors of Wales until Henry the Fourth’s time, was the utter destruction of that sort of men; and since then that kind of people were at some further liberty to sing, and to keep pedigrees, as in ancient time they were wont; since which time we have some light of antiquity by their songs and writings,” &c.
The following is taken from an old British grammar, written in English, by William Salesbury, printed at London, 1567. I have transcribed it faithfully according to the old orthography. “Howbeit when the whole Isle was commonlye called Brytayne, the dwellers Brytons, and accordingly their language Brytishe, I will not refell nor greatly deny; neither can I justly gainsaye, but their tongue then was as copious of syt woordes, and all manner of proper vocables, and as well adornated with woorshipful sciences and honourable knowledge as any other of the barbarous tongues were. And so still continued (though their sceptre declined, and their kingdom decayed, and they also by God’s hand were driven into the most unfertyl region, barenest country, and most desart province of all the isle) untyll the conquest of Wales. For then, as they say, the nobles and the greatest men beyng captives and brought prysoners to the tower of London, there to remayne during their lyves, desired of a common request, that they might have with them all such bokes of their tongue, as they most delited in, and so their petition was heard, and for the lightness soon granted, and thus brought with them all the principallest and chiefest books, as well of their own as of other their friends, of whom they could obtain anye to serve for their purpose. Whose mind was none other but to pass the time, and their predestinate perpetual captivitie in the amenous varietie of over reading and revoluting many volumes and sundry books of divers sciences and strange matters.
“And that is the common answer of the Welshe Bardes (for so they call their country poets) when a man shall object or cast in their teeth the foolysh uncertainty and the phantasticall vanities of their prophecies (which they call Bruts) or the doubtful race and kinde of their uncanonized saynctes: whom that notwithstanding they both invocate and worship wyth the most hyghe honoure and lowliest reverence. Adding and allegying in excuse thereof, that the reliques and residue of the books and monuments, as well as the saynctes lyves, as of their Brutysh prophecies and other sciences (which perished not in the tower, for there, they say, certain were burned) at the commotion of Owain Glyndwr, were in like manner destroyed, and utterly devastat, or at the least wyse that there escaped not one, that was not uncurablye maymed, and irrecuperably torn and mangled.