“The Scots approach, and our own causeless apprehension of fear made us demur and doubt; on the first, what to resolve; and in the latter, how to steer our resolutions, which involved us in a most disastrous condition.
Thurs. 24. From Raglan to Mr. Moore’s of the Creek, to pass over at the Black
Rock for Bristol; but his Majesty, sitting in council, and advising
to the contrary, marched only with his own servants and
troops that night to Newport-on-Usk; lay at Mrs. Pritty’s.
25. To Ruppera, Sir Philip Morgan’s (rested).
Tues. 29. To Cardiff, dinner at the governor’s, at our own charge.
Aug. 5. (Tuesday) To Glancayah, Mr. Pritchard’s, dinner.
Wed. 6. To Gumevit, Sir Henry Williams’, dinner.
“ To Old Radnor, supper, a yeoman’s house.
“ The Court dispersed.
Thurs. 7. Ludlow Castle, to dinner, Colonel Woodhouse’s.
Sept. 7. (Sunday) Raglan Castle, supper. 8th, Abergavenny.
Sund. 14. ib. supper.
Mond. 15. Marched halfway to Bramyard, but there was leo in intinere, and so
back to Hereford again.”—[Extract from the “Itinerarium.”]
Raglan Library, p. 195.—The havoc and devestation of the ancient British MSS. is a subject of continual regret to the historian, antiquary, and general scholar. Bangor-is-Coed, according to Laugharne and Humphrey Llwyd, was furnished with a valuable library, which was burnt to ashes by Edelfrid, when he massacred its inmates, and destroyed the college—not much less, as Bishop Lloyd asserts, than one of our present universities. A chest of records, appertaining to the see of St. David’s, was destroyed by a flood; and great part of the MSS. of British authors were burnt during the civil wars.
In those calamitous times, when monuments of taste and literature were destroyed or defaced by miscreants more ignorant and rapacious than Goths and Vandals, the superb library at Raglan Castle met with the same fate as other splendid establishments, when objects of military spoil or fanatical rage. In an age comparatively learned, the monks termed all ancient MSS. vetusta et inutilia; and little attention, we have reason to believe, was paid by the visitors at the Dissolution—mostly ill qualified for the task—to discriminate between true history and Romish legends, to select and preserve works of merit, and to reject the trash hoarded up by superstition.—[Fenton’s Pemb.; Mem. Owen Glendower, Rev. T. Thomas, 29.]
Raglan, p. 221.—Oldcastle was the dissolute companion of Henry V. when Prince of Wales, and afterwards a Wickliffite and reformer. He was sacrificed by his youthful companion to an ecclesiastical bribe, condemned and executed for heresy and rebellion. Lord Orford observes, that Cobham was the first author, as well as the first martyr among our nobility: a man whose virtues made him a reformer; whose valour, a martyr; whose martyrdom, an enthusiast. He was suspended by a chain fastened round his waist, over a slow fire. The bringing him to the stake was considered a meritorious affair in those times of gross superstition. The lordship of Broniarth was granted to the family of Tanad, the fifth of Henry V.; and other gentlemen enjoyed several privileges from Edward Charleton, Lord Powys, for the assistance they gave in the apprehension of Oldcastle, whose son-in-law, Sir John Gray, brought him a prisoner to London; and for this service, Lord Powys received the thanks of Parliament. Oldcastle, the residence of Lord Cobham, is situated on the slope of the Black Mountains, near the road to Longtown, and about four miles from Llanfihangel. The old castle was demolished, and a farm-house constructed from the materials.
—[Owen Glendower, p. 122.]
Pembroke Castle, p. 300.—Welsh bards are thus apostrophized by Drayton:—
“Oh, memorable Bards! of unmix’d blood, which still
Posterity shall praise for your so wondrous skill;
That in your noble songs the long descents have kept
Of your great heroes, else in Lethé that had slept
With theirs, whose ignorant pride your labours have disdained,
How much from time and them, how bravely you have gained.
‘Musician,’ ‘herald,’ ‘bard,’ thrice mayest thou be renowned!
And with three several wreaths immortally be crowned!
Who, when to Pembroke called, before the English king,
And to thy powerful harp commanded there to sing,
Of famous Arthur told’st, and where he was interred,
In which those ‘retchless’ times had long and blindly erred.
And ignorance had brought the world to such a pass,
As now, which scarce believed that Arthur ever was!
But when King Henry sent the reported place to view,
He found that man of men, and what thou said’st was true.
Here, then, I cannot choose but bitterly exclaim
Against those fools that all Antiquity defame;
Because they have found out some credulous ages laid
Slight fictions with the truth, whilst truth on rumour staid.
And that our forward times (perceiving the former neglect
A former of her had), to purchase her respect,
With toys then trimmed her up, the drowsy world to allure,
And lent her what it thought might appetite procure.
To man, whose mind doth still variety pursue,” &c., 217
So did Mars reverence the Muses, that, if a Welsh bard struck his harp at the moment of encounter, the hostile spirit pervading both armies was suddenly subdued; their swords were returned bloodless to the scabbards; and they who had come forth to mutual slaughter, united in the song of peace and goodwill to men.
Pembroke, p. 301.—“The castel,” says Leland, “standith hard by the waull on a hard rocke, and is verie large and strong, being doble warded. In the utter warde I saw the chambre where Kinge Henri VII. was borne, in knowledge whereof a chyromancy is now made with the armes and badges of this kinge. In the botome of the great stronge rownd tower in the inner ward, is a marvellus vault called the Hogan. The top of this rownd tower is gathered with a rofe of stone, almost in conum; the topp whereoff is keverid with a flat mille stone.”