A Book of North Wales

by S. Baring-Gould

But she had doubts that a pardon would be granted.

“I then sent for Mrs. Mills, with whom I lodged, and acquainted her with my design of attempting my lord’s escape, as there was no prospect of his being pardoned, and that this was the last night before the execution. I told her that I had everything in readiness, and that I trusted she would not refuse to accompany me, that my lord might pass for her. At the same time I sent to Mrs. Morgan, to whose acquaintance my dear Evans had introduced me, and I immediately communicated my resolutions to her. She was of a very tall slender make, so I begged her to put under her own riding-hood one that I had prepared for Mrs. Mills, as she was to lend hers to my lord, that in coming out he might be taken for her. When we were in the coach, I never ceased talking, that they might have no leisure to reflect. On our arrival at the Tower, the first that I introduced was Mrs. Morgan (for I was only allowed to take in one at a time). She brought in the clothes that were to cover Mrs. Mills when she left her own behind her. When Mrs. Morgan had taken off what she had brought for the purpose, I conducted her back to the staircase, and, in going, I begged her to send me my maid to dress me; that I was afraid of being too late to present my last petition that night if she did not come immediately. I despatched her safe, and went downstairs to meet Mrs. Mills, who had the precaution to hold her handkerchief to her face, as is natural for a woman to do when she is going to take her last farewell of a friend on the eve of his execution. Her eyebrows were inclined to be sandy, my lord’s were very dark and thick; however, I had prepared some paint of the colour of hers to disguise his with; I also brought an artificial head-dress (wig) of the same coloured hair as hers; and I painted his face with white, and his cheeks with rouge, to hide his beard, which he had not time to shave. The guards, whom my slight liberality the day before had endeared me to, let me go quietly out with my companion, and were not so strictly on the watch as they had been. I made Mrs. Mills take off her own hood, and put on that which I had brought for her; I then took her by the hand, and led her out of my lord’s chamber, and in passing through the next room, in which were several people, I said, ‘My dear Mrs. Catherine, go in all haste, and send me my waiting-maid. I am to present my petition to-night, and if I let slip this opportunity I am undone, for to-morrow will be too late.’ Everybody in the room, chiefly the guards’ wives and daughters, seemed to compassionate me exceedingly, and the sentinel officiously opened me the door. When I had seen her safe out, I returned to my lord, and finished dressing him. When I had almost finished dressing my lord in all my petticoats except one, I perceived it was growing dark, and was afraid that the light of the candles might betray us, so I resolved to set off. I went out leading him by the hand, whilst he held his handkerchief to his eyes. I spoke to him in the most piteous tone of voice, bewailing the negligence of Evans, who had ruined me by her delay. Then I said, ‘My dear Mrs. Betty, for the love of God, run quickly and bring her with you; I am distracted with this disappointment.’ The guards opened the door, and I went downstairs with him, still conjuring him to make all possible despatch. At the bottom of the stairs I met my dear Evans, into whose hands I confided him.”

Grace Evans managed a place of concealment for Lord Nithsdale till he could be smuggled to the Venetian ambassador’s, and thence to Dover, dressed as a lacquey, behind the ambassador’s coach and six. There he was put on board a boat and conveyed to Calais.

The Powysland Museum deserves a visit. It contains many objects connected with local history and antiquities, among others a bronze bell of Celtic character from Llangystennin Church, Roman remains from Caersws, and mediæval from Strata Marcella.

But the chief object of interest in the district is Castell Coch, the Red Castle of Powys.

This stands boldly out on a rock that has been hewn into terraces. It is a stately Elizabethan mansion, but underwent injudicious handling by Sir Robert Smirke, the architect, at a period when the true characteristics of mediæval architecture and that of the Tudor period were not grasped. The walls are older than the Elizabethan period, when it was remodelled. It contains much that is worth seeing—tapestries, old furniture, and paintings.

James II. raised William Lord Powis to a dukedom after his flight from England in 1689. The second Duke of Powis was implicated in the rebellion of 1715, and was sent to the Tower. The dukedom became extinct in 1748.

Cadwgan ab Bleddyn, prince of Powys, began to build a castle here in 1110. He and his brothers Madog and Rhirid ruled in the three portions of Powys. Filled with ambition, they combined to attack South Wales, and drove away King Rhys, who fled to Ireland, but returned, and in a battle with the sons of Bleddyn the brothers of Cadwgan were killed. He had, however, two more—Iorwerth and Meredydd.

In 1102 Robert de Belesme, Earl of Shrewsbury, rebelled against Henry I., and induced Cadwgan and his brothers to make common cause with him. King Henry, however, opened secret communications with Iorwerth, and by large promises bribed him to arrest and deliver over his brother Meredydd to him. Iorwerth did this, but when he appealed to Henry for his stipulated reward the King contemptuously refused to ratify his engagement, and had Iorwerth seized and imprisoned.