CHAPTER XI
THE CIVIL WAR

The Great Civil War was the last occasion on which Welshmen have fought upon the soil of their native land. The old order was giving place to the new. Henceforward the heroes of Wales were not soldiers, but poets, scholars, and, above all, preachers. A last flicker of the old martial spirit, the old lust of battle, is seen in the struggle between King and Parliament. To write the history of Wales between 1642 and 1649 would simply be to narrate the incidents of the Civil War, for no part of the country played a more prominent part in the contest than did the Principality. Here, however, it must suffice to disentangle from the rest that which was peculiarly Welsh, and to draw attention to a few Welshmen who rendered themselves illustrious.

It is well known that, at the outbreak of the war, the cleavage between the partisans of Charles and those of Parliament followed geographical, racial, and professional, rather than social, lines. To say that the upper classes were for the King, and the lower classes for the Commons, would contain rather more fiction than truth. At most all that can be said is that the aristocracy, the squirearchy, and the peasantry, were, on the whole, favourable to the King; while the substantial farmers, and the trading and commercial classes were mainly inclined towards Parliament. Large numbers of all these classes were, however, to be found on both sides. But the geographical division is far more clear and certain. If a line be drawn from Hull to Gloucester, and then on to Plymouth, it can be said roughly that all the country to the east and south of it was for Parliament, and everything to the west and north for Charles. It is further to be observed that High Churchmen and Catholics favoured the Royalist cause, while the Dissenters were to a man upholders of the Commons. About the attitude of Wales there was, from the very first, no question: it was well nigh unanimously Royalist. Why that should have been so it is difficult to explain; except on the facile assumption that the Welsh people were either preternaturally enlightened or else preternaturally stupid. The Tudors had been of Welsh blood, and the intense loyalty which they evoked in Welsh hearts was only natural; but the Stuarts were only remotely descended from Welsh ancestors, and in most respects were more thoroughly alien than pure Englishmen would have been. Nor had they conferred any benefits upon Wales. Neither James I nor Charles I had ever as much as professed to take any interest in the affairs of the country. In spite of this, however, in no part of their dominions did the early Stuarts meet with a more blind and thorough-going loyalty. The cleavage which was shortly to appear in Wales between the upper and the lower classes had not as yet manifested itself. The day was not far distant when the upper classes would be English in speech, Tory in politics, and Anglican in religion, while the middle and lower classes would be Welsh in speech, Liberal in politics, and Nonconformist in religion. In Charles I's reign, however, all were united; and when the leaders of the nation declared for the King, none of their tenants held back. The day of the power of the preacher had not yet dawned; but the poet was widely influential, and with hardly an exception the bards were enthusiastic Royalists. A few discordant notes were, of course, heard. Two Welshmen put their names to the death warrant of Charles. One of them had been a brave Roundhead soldier, and afterwards served the Commonwealth in an important capacity. The other stood high on account of his wisdom in the councils of the victorious party. There was also Morgan Llwyd, the author of Llyfr y Tri Aderyn, a Fifth Monarchy Man, and the finest Welsh intellect of the age. But these men were exceptions; and to paint them as representatives of a democracy sighing for freedom, and for the blessings of Parliamentary supremacy, is a grotesque travesty of the situation. Leaders they undoubtedly were, but leaders of posterity, rather than of their contemporaries.

If it is difficult to account for the affection of Wales for the Stuarts, it is easy to explain its dislike of Parliament. As we have had occasion already to observe, Parliament was not an indigenous growth in Wales, but a foreign importation. It was never evolved out of the political consciousness of the people. Moreover, all that the Welsh people knew about it up to that time was that it was the foreign body which passed laws making such drastic alterations in the customs of their country, forbidding them to speak Welsh, forbidding them to go to Mass, and most unfairly and inexplicably ordering that the whole of the father's estate was to go to the eldest son. Puritanism was hateful to the people, as being even more remote than Anglicanism from the old religious ceremonial for which they still had a warm corner in their hearts. Wales was, in those days, a merry country, full of mirth and joviality. Games and good cheer were loved by all. There was much superstition, much dissoluteness, much profanity, but this only made the people the more resentful of the chilling and sobering touch of Puritanism. The old Wales of the Middle Ages was still alive, and the fountains of imagination, art, and romance had not yet been frozen. There was no Welsh printing-press in existence; and even if there had been, the people were, on the whole, far too ignorant to understand a noble appeal to their latent love of liberty contained in such a work as Milton's Areopagitica. Of the great principles for which both parties in the war were fighting—respect for law and supremacy of Parliament, on the side of the Roundheads; control of the Executive by the King, and supremacy of the Episcopal Church, on the side of the Royalists—they knew nothing. Such ideas were too complex for them. What they could understand was the ancient loyalty of subject to Prince; and in following Charles they acted ingenuously, and according to their lights. Parliament, they instinctively felt, was not fighting the battle of the poor man, nor of the squire; and Wales was inhabited almost exclusively by these two classes. In so far as it was fighting for a class at all, it was fighting for the trader; and trade was, as yet, of little account in the life of Wales. It was thus in the "Celtic Fringe," in Wales, in Scotland, in Cumberland, and in Cornwall, that Charles found the fullest measure of support; and it is interesting to remember that, when war broke out between King and States-General in France a hundred and fifty years later, it was among the Celts of Brittany that Louis XVI found his most steadfast support.

In the years immediately preceding the outbreak of war a Welshman stood high in the counsels of Charles I; and at one time it looked as if this man might play the part played in the French Revolution by Mirabeau, namely, that of mediator between King and Parliament. This able man was the Lord Keeper, John Williams. He has suffered the usual fate of all mediators, and been abused by the two parties which he sought to reconcile; but an impartial judge will accord to him a high place in the annals of British statesmanship. He was born in 1582 at Conway, of an ancient and respected Welsh family, and was educated first at Ruthin, then at Oxford, where he had a singularly brilliant academic career. It does not seem to have been difficult in those days for Welshmen to secure high positions in the Church: we have already come across the case of Gabriel Goodman, who became Dean of Westminster. John Williams likewise became Dean of Westminster, in 1620, and left there a fitting memorial of himself in the cedar panelling which he caused to be put in the Jerusalem Chamber. He was Court Chaplain, high in favour with the royal favourite Buckingham, and with both James I and Charles. In 1621 he was made Lord Keeper and Bishop of Lincoln. That he seems to have shared to the full the artistic tastes of the Court is proved not only by his work in the Jerusalem Chamber, but also by the beautiful chapel, with its exquisite stained glass windows, which he built for Lincoln College, Oxford. In politics his influence, at this time, was a moderating one; and his opposition to the reckless foreign policy of the hour lost him the favour of Buckingham; while his opposition to the tyranny of the High Commission won for him the enmity of Laud. In 1625 he was deprived of his offices; and in 1637 this penalty was followed by a heavy fine, imprisonment, and suspension from his ecclesiastical functions, the charge being that he had revealed the King's secrets, and tampered with witnesses. Whether the accusation was well-founded or not we cannot tell; but remembering the sordid official life of so great a man as Bacon, we cannot safely dismiss it as impossible, or even unlikely.

Williams was an ambitious man; and he felt the loss of royal favour keenly. Like Wentworth he determined to become an out-and-out supporter of the King. In 1640 he was released from prison; and as a reward for his strenuous support of the royal prerogative, and of episcopacy, was in the following year made Archbishop of York. So intemperate was he in his defence of the new position in politics which he had taken up that he was committed to the Tower, by order of the House of Commons. On the outbreak of hostilities, however, we find him at large, assisting the King both with money and advice. The portrait of Williams which Clarendon paints is an exceedingly unpleasant one. He acknowledges him to have been a man of wit and learning; but adds that he was "of a proud, restless, and over-weening spirit, a very imperious and fiery temper, and a very corrupt nature." All this is probably true. Let us, however, be just to him and concede that he was sincere, kind-hearted, and loyal; and that, on most occasions, the advice which he tendered was sound. Wales, of course, had its own representatives in the House of Commons; and these must have sat with the other Members through the stormy scenes which preluded the passing of the Petition of Right, and the even more stormy scenes which attended the Grand Remonstrance. But all through the long contest the Welsh Members were, with hardly an exception, firm on the side of the King. And not only did they support the King in the lobby, they also followed him on to the field of battle. Two of them—William Herbert of Cardiff, and Charles Price of Radnor—died for the cause. Nine others bore arms for Charles—William Price of Rhiwlas, John Bodville, Richard Herbert, Henry Vaughan of Derwydd, Sir Edward Stradling, Richard Jones of Trewern, Francis Lloyd of Maesyvelin, Sir John Stepney, and Herbert Price of Brecon. Of all the Welsh Members only Sir Thomas Middleton and Henry Herbert sided consistently with Parliament. Sir John Price of Newtown, after suffering much for the King, went over to the side of Parliament; and Hugh Owen of Orielton repeatedly changed sides.

In order to see clearly what part was played by Wales in the fight, it is convenient to adhere to the customary division of the war into three periods. The first period opens with the battle of Edgehill on October 23, 1642, and closes with the death of Pym in December 1643. The second period begins with the entry of the Scottish army into England in January 1644, and ends with the King's flight to the Scottish camp in April 1646. These two periods taken together constitute what is sometimes called the First Civil War. The third period, or the Second Civil War, begins with the escape of Charles in November 1647, and ends with his execution in January 1649.

At the opening of the war, and indeed down to the spring of 1644, Charles took up the offensive. He held the whole of the North, as well as all the West; and his strategy consisted in converging attacks upon London. During the whole of this period his firmest base, and his best recruiting ground, was Wales. Immediately after the unfurling of his standard at Nottingham, on August 22, Charles had marched to Shrewsbury, resolving, in the words of Clarendon, "to sit down near the borders of Wales, where the power of Parliament had been least prevalent, and where some regiments of foot were levying for his service." It was an excellent situation to occupy, in the very centre of the border country, and with easy communications with the two Royalist strongholds of Chester and Worcester. Before the end of September Worcester had surrendered to the Parliamentary General Essex, and its garrison, led by Prince Rupert, had marched through the Welsh border and joined the King at Shrewsbury. The King's expectation of help from Wales had, in the meantime, not been disappointed. The gentry had flocked to his Court to assure him of their devotion, and then returned to their homes to raise recruits. At least five thousand Welshmen responded to the appeal, a number so unexpectedly large that Charles had neither sufficient arms for them, nor sufficient money wherewith to buy provisions. Indeed, so badly was the King provided with weapons that, at the opening of the campaign, he seems to have had in his possession only some eight hundred muskets, five hundred pairs of pistols, and two hundred swords. Thus reinforced, and consoled for the loss of Worcester by the news that Lord Herbert had captured Cardiff Castle, Charles decided to make straight for London, rightly believing that the capture of the metropolis would completely paralyze his opponents. At Edgehill, not far from Banbury, his path was intercepted by the Parliamentary army under Essex. An indecisive battle was fought. The King was obliged to abandon his intention of reaching London: but Oxford was occupied; and it became thenceforward the Royalist capital.

In the following year, 1643, we again find the King attacking, this time with three separate armies, one advancing from the North, the other from Cornwall, and the third from Wales. Those parts of the country were solidly Royalist except that Hull held out for Parliament in the north-east, Gloucester in the west, and Plymouth in the south-west. The attempts of the Royalist forces of South Wales to cross the border were foiled, with much bloodshed, by Essex at Highnam; while their future advance was rendered more difficult by the Parliamentary occupation of Chepstow and Monmouth. South Wales was thus shut in between the Parliamentary fortresses of Gloucester, Chepstow, and Monmouth to the east, and Pembroke to the west. Meanwhile Sir Thomas Middleton, and Brereton, were overrunning Cheshire and North Wales, capturing one Royalist fortress after another. In siege warfare the Parliamentarians enjoyed an easy and decisive superiority, for they alone possessed heavy artillery. A Royalist army arrived from Ireland, but it was defeated with heavy loss at Nantwich; and soon only Chester held out for the King in that part of the country. Charles, who was gifted with a considerable amount of military insight and acumen, perceived the importance of Chester, not only as a rallying place for Wales, but also as a gate to Ireland; and he sent Sir Nicholas Byron to command the garrison, and to take general charge of Cheshire and Shropshire. Although Byron only just succeeded in holding his own, he at least had the satisfaction of knowing that he was keeping a large Parliamentary army occupied in watching him, and so making it impossible for it to march against the King. South Wales had been entrusted by Charles to the care of Lord Herbert, eldest son of the Marquis of Worcester, a man personally popular, but a Catholic, and without military training. As compensation, however, for his defects, there was the fact that his father was reputed to be the wealthiest man in the kingdom; and his son's army was fitted out, and maintained, entirely at his own private cost. It took him but little time to raise an army of fifteen hundred foot and five hundred horse, all well and sufficiently armed. The close of the year 1643 saw the King still in a good position; and as for Wales it was, with the exception of two or three places in Pembrokeshire, solidly Royalist, while only Gloucester prevented Charles from being master of the whole Severn valley.

With the beginning of the year 1644, however, things began to alter. Many of the younger and more ardent Parliamentarians were growing impatient of the dilatory method of their own leaders. They fancied that such men as Essex did not really desire to crush the King once and for all. New men, of the type of Cromwell, Ireton, and Harrison, were coming to the front. The result was that now, for the first time, Parliament began to take the offensive, and to direct its armies against those parts of the country which were most loyal to Charles. This explains the strategy of the next two years. In 1644 the North was won, as the result of the victory of Marston Moor; and in 1645 the Midlands were won, as the result of Naseby. In Wales the year 1644 opened with an attack by Lord Herbert upon the Parliamentary stronghold of Pembroke. The attempt was repulsed; and in the succeeding weeks Laugharne, then a staunch Roundhead, made sure of South Wales, capturing Haverfordwest, Tenby, Carew, and Carmarthen. An attempt to recover the lost ground was made by Gerard, aided by some Irish levies; but so oppressive was the conduct of these wild and undisciplined troops that the affections of the greater part of South Wales were permanently alienated from the Royalist cause. Some months later Gerard was relieved of his command; but the evil had been done. Meanwhile Laugharne was pursuing his victorious course; and before the close of the year Monmouth, Brecon, and Newcastle Emlyn had fallen into the hands of Parliament.