THE BATTLE OF SHREWSBURY
1403
The opening of the year 1403 was a time full of promise for Owen's
cause. The western castles by whose capture he set such store were
hard pressed. Llandovery in the Vale of Towy had been reduced;
Llandeilo Fawr, close by, burnt. The noble castle of Dynevor, which
had been the royal seat of the Princes of South Wales, was in
difficulties, and a descent on the southern shores of England by the
French was once more looked for. The Scots, too, had again plucked up
their courage, and threatened to give trouble. King Henry was begging
or demanding loans from all sorts and conditions of men, that he might
be enabled to hold his own against the Welsh, the Scots, and the
French. His affairs in truth were anything but prosperous. The Prince
of Wales, however, was at his post at Shrewsbury, though pressing for
men and money. He informs his father that Glyndwr is preparing to
invade England, and Henry communicates the disquieting news to his
council, though this is somewhat later, since in May the Prince is
writing urgent letters for relief. In these he declares that his
soldiers will remain no longer with him unless they are paid, and that
Glyndwr is levying all the power of North and South Wales to destroy
the Marches and the adjoining counties of England. The Prince goes on
to say: "If our men are withdrawn from us we must retire to England
and be disgraced forever. At present we have very great expenses, and
we have raised the largest sum in our power to meet them from our
little stock of jewels." This, it may perhaps be again remarked, is
the London roué and trifler of popular fancy!
"Our two castles of Harlech and Lampadarn are besieged and we
must relieve and victual them within ten days, and besides
that protect the March around us with one-third of our forces.
And now since we have fully shown the state of these
districts, please to take such measures as shall seem best to
you for the safety of these same parts. And be well assured we
have fully shown to you the peril of whatever may happen here
if remedy be not sent in time."
Reinforcements of some kind must have reached the ardent young soldier
very soon. For within a week or two he exercised a most signal piece
of vengeance against Glyndwr and apparently without opposition. This
was no less than the complete destruction of Sycherth and Glyndyfrdwy,
while Owen was busy upon the Merioneth coast. As all we know of this
interesting affair is from the Prince's own pen, I cannot do better
than quote in full the letter by which he communicated the news to
his father and his council. The original is preserved in the
British Museum, and is in the French language. It is dated May 15th,
no year unfortunately being affixed. Some difference of opinion as to
the latter detail exists, but this year (1403), the latest of those in
dispute, seems to me the likeliest.
[Illustration: SYCHERTH, FROM THE NORTH.
Copyright
H. H. Hughes.]
"Very dear and entirely well beloved, we greet you much from
our whole heart, thanking you, very dearly for the attention
you have paid to everything needful that concerned us during
our absence, and we pray of you very earnestly the continuance
of your good and kind disposition; as our trust is in you. By
way of news that have here occurred, if you wish to hear of
them, we have among other matters been lately informed that
Owen de Glyndowrdy has assembled his forces, and those of
other rebels adhering to him in great number; purposing to
commit inroads, and in case of any resistance being made to
him by the English, to come to battle with them, for so he
vaunted to his people. Wherefore we took our forces and
marched to a place of the said Oweyn well built, which was his
principal mansion, called Saghern [Sycherth], where we thought
we should have found him, if he had an inclination to fight in
the manner he had said, but on our arrival there, we found
nobody; and therefore caused the whole place to be burnt, and
several other houses near it belonging to his tenants. We
thence marched straight to his other place of Glyndowerdy to
seek for him there and we caused a fine lodge in his park to
be destroyed by fire, and laid waste all the country around.
We there halted for the night and certain of our people
sallied forth into the country, and took a gentleman of the
neighbourhood who was one of the said Oweyn's chief captains.
This person offered five hundred pounds for his ransom to
preserve his life, and to be allowed two weeks for the purpose
of raising that sum of money; but the offer was not accepted
and he received death, as did several of his companions, who
were taken the same day. We then proceeded to the Commote of
Edeyrnion in Merionethshire, and there laid waste a fine and
populous country; thence we went to Powys, and there being a
want of provender in Wales for horses, we made our people
carry oats with them and pursued our march; and in order to
give you full intelligence of this march of ours and of
everything that has occurred here, we send to you our well
beloved esquire, John de Waterton, to whom you will be pleased
to give entire faith, and credence in what he shall report to
you touching the events above mentioned. And may our Lord have
you always in his holy keeping. Given under our Seal at
Shrewsbury the 15th day of May."
If, as I think, 1403 is the right year to which we should assign this
letter, it may seem strange that Glyndwr should have left his estates
to their fate. On the other hand, Sycherth, or Saghern as the Prince
calls it, actually touched Offa's Dyke and the English border, while
Glyndyfrdwy, as I have before noted, was within sight of Dinas Brân,
the grim outpost of English power. Glyndwr's attention had been
largely devoted to South Wales and was now bent on securing those
great castles on the Merioneth and Carnarvon coast, which with their
sea connections threatened him perpetually in his rear. Above all, his
aspirations had now soared to such a height and the stake he was
playing for was so great it is not likely that the loss of a couple
of manor-houses and a few other buildings was of much import to him.
If he won his cause, they were of no moment at all. If, on the other
hand, he lost it, all was over; they would certainly be no longer his.
A want of local knowledge has led many historians astray in the matter
of these manors of Glyndwr's, and they have repeated each other's
mistakes, ignoring the Cynllaeth property, and only transferring the
name of its much larger house to the banks of the Dee. Even Pennant
falls into the error, and is probably responsible for that of many of
his successors.
This is the more curious in view of Prince Henry's letter, distinctly
stating that he first destroyed Owen's principal mansion at that point
and naturally so, as it would be the first in his path on the direct
route from Shrewsbury, following the valleys of the Vyrnwy and the
Tanat, and then up the Cynllaeth brook, where Sycherth lies. Prince
Henry's failure to spell the name of Owen's residence intelligibly is
of no moment whatever, and is almost lucid compared to some of the
Norman attempts to render Welsh names into English.
Sir Henry Ellis and others who, though realising that Owen had two
separate properties, are not familiar with the district, fall back on
Leland, who alludes to Rhaggat, the present seat of the Lloyds, as
having been "a place of Glyndwr's," and explain Prince Henry's
"Saghern" in that manner. Rhaggat, beyond a doubt, whatever dwelling
may then have stood there, was the property of Glyndwr, seeing that it
was on his Glyndyfrdwy estate and less than two miles up the Dee from
his Glyndyfrdwy house. But the Prince would have had to pass by the
latter to reach Rhaggat, reversing the stated order of his operations,
whereas his short campaign as described by himself took the objects of
his attack, Sycherth, Glyndyfrdwy, and the Vale of Edeyrnion in due
order. These are matters, it is true, rather of local than of general
interest. Still as the locality is one which great numbers of
strangers visit for its beauty, I may perhaps be pardoned for entering
somewhat minutely into these details.
While the Prince was thus doing his best upon a small scale near the
border, and sore distressed for money to pay his men, the castles of
Harlech, Criccieth, Conway, Carnarvon, and Rhuddlan were hard pressed.
Being in the royal counties, they were held and manned at the royal
charge and were feeling to the full the pinch of poverty. Owen,
entirely satisfied with the prospect of their speedy reduction, moved
south about the time that the Prince was wasting his property on the
Cynllaeth and the Dee. We hear of him in piteous letters for aid, sent
by Jankyn Hanard, the Constable of Dynevor Castle, on the Towy, to his
brother--Constable of Brecon, who was in but little better plight. In
this correspondence the writer declares that Glyndwr dominates the
whole neighbouring country with 8240 spears at his back; that Rhys
Gethin, the victor of Pilleth, is with him, also Henry Don, Rhys Ddu,
and Rhys ap Griffith ap Llewelyn, the son of that gallant gentleman of
Cardiganshire who made such a cheerful sacrifice of his head, it will
be remembered, two years before, when King Henry was at Strata
Florida, trying in vain to come to blows with Owen.
[Illustration: HAY.
Copyright
Marion & Co.]
"There is great peril for me," continues the panic-stricken Constable,
"for they [Glyndwr's soldiers] have made a vow that they will all have
us ded therein; wherefor I pray thee that thou wilt not boggle us, but
send to us warning within a short time whether we schule have any help
or no." The garrison, he reports, are fainting, in victuals and men,
and they would all be glad enough to steal away to Brecon, where the
castle is in a better state for holding out. "Jenkin ap Llewelyn,
William Gwyn, Thomas ap David, and moni other gentils be in person with
Owen." He tells also of the capture of Carmarthen just effected by
Glyndwr,--both town and castles,--with a loss of fifty men to the
defenders. A second letter, written early in July, a few days only
after the first one and from the same frightened commandant, describes
Glyndwr as still halting in his mind as to whether or no he should burn
Carmarthen. It goes on to relate how Owen and most of his army moved
forward to the great castle of Kidwelly, which stood upon the seacoast
near the mouth of the Towy, some ten miles distant.
But in the meantime the Anglo-Flemings from Western Pembroke and Gower,
of all districts in Wales the most hostile to a Cymric revival, were
coming up again in strong force, under their lord and governor, Thomas
Earl Carew. Glyndwr halted on July 9th at St. Clear's and opened
negotiations with Carew, influenced probably by the view that Western
Pembroke with its sturdy Teutonic stock, and line of impregnable
castles, would prove more difficult to conquer and to hold than the
effort was worth. While pourparlers were proceeding, he sent forward
seven hundred men, to discover if it were possible to get to the rear
of the Anglo-Flemish force, but they were cut off to a man and killed.
This was the most serious loss the Welsh had yet sustained. Carew,
however, did not follow up his advantage, and Glyndwr, who, we are
told, had much booty stored in what was left of Carmarthen, made his
headquarters there for several days.
It is impossible to follow Owen step by step through the hurly-burly of
ruin, fire, and slaughter which he created during this summer in South
Wales. It would be wearisome work, even if we could track his steps
from castle to castle, and from town to town with accuracy. But there
is ample enough evidence of his handiwork and of the terror he spread,
in the panic-stricken correspondence that came out of the Marches from
all sorts of people during these months, and which anyone may read
to-day. We hear from time to time of his lieutenants, of Rhys Gethin,
the Tudors, and many others, but no name in the minds of men ever seems
to approach that of the dread chief, who was the life and organiser of
every movement. Whether Owen is present in person at a siege or a
battle or not, it is always with his enemies, "Owen's men," and "Owen's
intentions," "Owen's magic, ambition, and wickedness"; and at the
terror of his name nervous people and monks were trembling far into the
midland counties. An invasion of England was thoroughly expected at
various times during 1403, and such a visit from a warrior who could
call at will the lightning and the tempest to his aid, and whose track
was marked by a desolation, so it was rumoured, more pitiless than even
medieval ethics approved of, was a terrible eventuality. In the eastern
counties men were informed for certain that he was soon to be at
Northampton, while the monks of St. Albans hung a supplication upon the
chancel wall to the Almighty God to spare them from Glyndwr.
John Faireford, Receiver of Brecon, writes urgently to the authorities
of the county of Hereford, telling them how all the gentry of
Carmarthen had now risen treasonably against the King, and how his
friend, the Constable of Dynevor, was in vain appealing to him for
help; how Owain Glyndwr with his false troops was at Llandover, the men
of that castle being assured to him, and the Welsh soldiers all lying
around the castle at their ease; and again how Glyndwr was on his march
to that very town of Brecon for the destruction of the same, "which God
avert." Faireford begs them to rally all the counties round and to
prepare them at once for resisting these same rebels with all haste
possible for the avoiding of greater peril. "And you will know," writes
he, "that all the Welsh nation, being taken a little by surprise, is
adhering to this evil purpose of rebellion, and if any expedition of
cavalry can be made be pleased to do that first in these Lordships of
Brecon and Cantref Sellys."
Within a few days a letter from the same hand is forwarded to the King
himself.
"My most noble and dread Lord, I have received at Brecon
certain letters addressed to me by John Skidmore, the which
enclosed within this letter, I present unto your high person
by the bearer of these, that it may please your gracious
lordship to consider the mischief and perils comprised in
them, and to ordain thereupon speedy remedy for the
destruction and resistance of the rebels in those parts of
South Wales, who are treacherously raised against you and your
Majesty, so that your castles and towns and the faithful men
in them be not thus ruined and destroyed for lack of aid and
succour. And besides, may it please your lordship to know that
the rebels of this your lordship of Brecon, together with
their adherents, are lying near the town of Brecon doing all
the mischief they can to its town and neighbourhood, and they
purpose, all of them together, to burn all pertaining to the
English in these same parts if they be not resisted in haste.
The whole of the Welsh nation are by all these said parties
conformed in this rebellion, and with good will consent
together as only appears from day to day. May it please your
royal Majesty to ordain a final destruction of all the false
nation aforesaid, or otherwise all your faithful ones in these
parts are in great peril."
The sheriff of Hereford had been warned by the King to proceed against
Brecon with the forces of his county, and relieve the siege. This he
reports later, that he has done with some success; slaying 240 of the
Welsh, though with what loss to himself he refrains from mentioning.
This diversion seems in no way to have relieved the general situation;
for after describing the fight at Brecon he goes on to state that
"these same rebels purpose again to come in haste with a
great multitude to take the town (which God avert) and to
approach to the Marches and counties adjoining to the
destruction of them, which force we have no power to resist
without your most earnest aid and succour, and this greatly
displeases us by reason of the grievous costs and labours
which it will be needful for us to sustain. In reference to
which matters, our most dread and sovereign Lord, may it
please you to ordain speedy remedy, which cannot be as we deem
without your gracious arrival in these parts for no other hope
remains."
This appeal is signed "your humble lieges the Sheriffs, Knights,
Esquires, and Commons of your County of Hereford." Hugh de Waterton
follows in the same alarmist strain:
"For the honour of God and the preservation of your estate and
honour may it please your Highness to have this in your
remembrance and soon to cause to commit to such an array of
sufficient persons, knights, and esquires, as shall be willing
to give their whole diligence and trouble for the protection
of your honour in the preservation of your faithful lieges and
the punishment of your rebels, or otherwise the only thing
that can be said, is, it is likely you will find all in
confusion which God avert."
Then follows William de Beauchamp writing to the same purpose in a
long, rambling letter to the King. Lastly Richard Kingeston, Archdeacon
of Hereford and Dean of Windsor and general administrator for the King
on the Southern Marches, within the same period of panic, appeals
direct to his Majesty.
In one of these missives he says:
"From day to day letters are arriving from Wales by which you
may learn that the whole country is lost unless you go there
as quick as possible. Be pleased to set forth with all your
power and march by night as well as by day, for the salvation
of those parts. It will be a great disgrace as well as damage
to lose in the beginning of your reign a country which your
ancestors gained and retained so long; for people speak very
unfavourably; ..."
This is signed "Your lowly creature, Richard Kingeston," with a
postscript added, "And for God's love, my liege Lord, think on
yourself."
The second letter, written somewhat later, contains the following:
"There are come into our country more than four hundred of the
rebels of Owen and they have captured and robbed within your
county of Hereford many men and beasts in great number as
Miles Walter the bearer of these presents will more fully tell
you by mouth than I can write to you at present, to whom may
it please you to give your faith and credence in that on which
he shall inform you for the preservation of your said county
and of all the country around."
The said Miles Walter, moreover, is
"the most valiant man at arms in Herefordshire or the Marches
as he has served his Majesty well and lost all that he hath.
He begs for a hundred lances and six hundred archers at once
until your most gracious arrival for the salvation of us all;
for, my most dread Lord, you will find for certain that if
you do not come in your own person to await your rebels in
Wales you will not find a single gentleman that will stop in
your said county [Hereford], and leave naught that you do not
come, for no man that may counsel you to the contrary. This
day the Welshmen suppose that and trust that you will not come
there and therefore for God's love make them false men.... For
salvation of your shire and Marches trust you naught to any
lieutenant.
"Written at Hereford in very great haste.
"Your humble creature and continual orator."
I have somewhat tried the reader's patience, perhaps, with such a
multiplication of extracts all sounding the same note; but in dealing
with scenes so scanty of all record save the bare detail of siege and
slaughter, it seems to me that human voices, full of the fears and
alarms of the moment, coming to us out of this almost forgotten
period, have more than ordinary value. Glyndwr, too, at this moment
steps out of his armour and gives us one of those brief glimpses of
the man within, which one so eagerly grasps at. To what extent he was
himself imbued with the superstition that surged around him and so
conspicuously centred upon his own name, must always be a matter of
curiosity. That he was very far from a sceptic, however, he gives us
conclusive proof; for while lying at Carmarthen after settling matters
with Carew, he was seized with a desire to consult a soothsayer; and
acting upon this he sent for a certain Welshman out of Gower, whose
reputation for forecasting future events, and "skill in interpreting
the Brut," was great. Hopkyn ap Thomas was the name of this prophet of
Gower, and when Owen demanded what the future had in store for himself
and his cause, the local wise man showed himself at any rate no
sycophant, though a false prophet, as it so turned out. For he boldly
informed the Welsh leader that within a short time he would be taken
prisoner under a black banner between Carmarthen and Gower.
But all this earlier period of the summer, while Glyndwr was marching
this way and that throughout South Wales, now repelling the Flemings
on the west, now ravaging the English border on the east, matters in
England closely connected with his own fortunes were quickly ripening
for one of the most critical events of this period of English history.
The Prince of Wales, after his brief raid on Sycherth and Glyndyfrdwy,
had remained inactive at Shrewsbury, unable from lack of means to move
the levies of the four border counties, who remained in whole or part,
and somewhat discontented, beneath his banner. The Pell Rolls show a
note for July 17th, of the sum of £8108 for the wages of four barons,
20 knights, 476 esquires, and 2500 archers. The King, who had been by
no means deaf to the frantic appeals which had come pouring in upon
him from Wales, had fully intended to act upon them in person. He was
always as ready, however, to answer a summons from the North as he was
reluctant to face the truth in the West. Wales had been virtually
wrested from him by Glyndwr, and he had ample warning that the latter
was even preparing for an invasion of England, where there existed a
growing faction, wearied by his ceaseless demands for money, which
produced so little glory and so much disgrace.
But once again he turned from scenes that for a long time had been a
standing reproach, both to himself and England, and started for the
North. Even if he had been only bent on assisting the Percys in
stemming a threatened invasion of the Scots, one might well suppose
that the virtual loss of what was a considerable portion of his
dominions near home, together with an equally imminent invasion from
that quarter, would demand his first attention. But there is not even
this much to be said. The King cherished aspirations to be another
Edward the First; he had already achieved a precarious footing in
Scotland and made grants of conquered territory across the border to
English subjects, always providing, of course, they could maintain
themselves there. One has the strange picture of an otherwise sensible
and long-headed monarch accepting perennial defeat and defiance in
Wales, while straining after the annexation of distant territories
that were as warlike as they were poor. The Percys had in fact for the
past few months been playing at war with the Scots, and deceiving
Henry, while laying plans for a deep game in quite another part of
Britain. The King, stern and at times even cruel towards the world in
general, was astonishingly complacent and trustful towards that
arch-plotter, the Earl of Northumberland, who in defiance of his
master, though in strict accord with equity, had kept his hold upon
the Scottish prisoners of Homildon; answering the King's letters of
remonstrance in light and even bantering vein. But now all trace of
ill-feeling would seem to have vanished, as Henry and his forces, on
July 10th, rest for a day or two at Higham Ferrers, on their way to
the assistance of the Percys; not to stem an invasion of the Scots,
but to further the King's preposterous and ill-timed designs upon
their territory. But this mad project was nipped in the bud at the
Northamptonshire town in a manner that may well have taken Henry's
breath away and brought him to his senses.
He has just informed his council that he has received news from Wales
telling him of the gallant bearing of his beloved son, and orders
£1000 to be paid to his war chest. He then proceeds to tell them that
he is on his way to succour his dear and loyal cousins, the Earl of
Northumberland and his son Henry, in the conflict which they have
honourably undertaken for him, and as soon as that campaign shall have
ended, with the aid of God he will hasten to Wales. The next day he
heard that his "beloved and loyal cousins" were in open revolt against
him, and, instead of fighting the Scots, were hastening southwards
with all their Homildon prisoners as allies and an ever gathering
force to join Glyndwr.
What was the exact nature of this alliance, whose proclamation fell
upon the King like a thunderclap, can only be a matter of conjecture.
There are whispers, as we know, of messages and messengers passing
between Glyndwr and Mortimer on the one hand and the Percys on the
other, this long time. That they intended to act in unison there is,
of course, no doubt. Shakespeare has anticipated by some years and
used with notable effect the famous "Tripartite Alliance," which was
signed by Glyndwr, Mortimer, and the Earl of Northumberland at the
Dean of Bangor's house at Aberdaron on a later occasion. One regrets
that in this particular he is not accurate, for the dramatic effect,
which as a poet he had no reason to resist, is much more telling
before the field of Shrewsbury than it can be at any subsequent time.
[Illustration: BATTLE-FIELD CHURCH, NEAR SHREWSBURY.
Copyright
J. Bartlett.]
The well-known scene, where Glyndwr, Mortimer, and Hotspur stand
before an outspread map of England, and divide its territory between
them, is probably to thousands of Englishmen their only distinct
vision of the Welsh chieftain as an historical character. But though
this formal indenture, as we shall see, was entered into much later,
there is no doubt that some very similar intention existed even now in
the minds of the allies. Glyndwr's reward was obvious. As to the
throne of England, Richard's ghost was to be resuscitated for the
purpose of creating enthusiasm in certain credulous quarters and among
the mob; but the young Earl of March was the real and natural
candidate for the throne. Edmund Mortimer, however, stood very near to
his young nephew. He was Hotspur's brother-in-law, and who could tell
what might happen? He had the sympathy of the Welsh, not only because
his property lay in their country, but because he could boast the
blood of Llewelyn ap Iorwerth, to say nothing of his intimate
connection with the Welsh hero himself. The Earl of Northumberland
may have had some understanding with regard to northern territory,
such as he bargained for in later years, but of this we know nothing.
It was an ill-managed affair in any case, and it is probable that the
conditions in case of victory were loosely defined.
The King had reached Lichfield when the astounding news burst upon him
that he was betrayed, and that he had not only to fight Glyndwr and
the Scotch, but to wrestle with the most powerful of his subjects for
his crown. Glyndwr was, of course, in the secret, but plans had
miscarried, or messengers had gone astray. Without wearying the reader
with proofs and dates, it will be sufficient to recall the fact that
on July 12th Owen was negotiating with Carew, and for the next few
days his hands and head were busily at work before the castle of
Dynevor. He had at that time no thought of leaving South Wales, and
this was within four or five days of the great fight at Shrewsbury,
nearly a hundred miles off, which poets and romancists have painted
him, of all people, as cynically regarding from the safe vantage-point
of a distant oak tree!
Henry, prompt in an emergency and every inch a soldier when outside
Wales, lost not a moment. He had with him but a moderate force, mostly
his loyal Londoners. The Prince of Wales was near Shrewsbury with his
recent reinforcements, and quickly summoned. Urgent orders were sent
out to the sheriffs of the home counties, and on Friday, July 20th, in
the incredibly short space of five days, the King and Prince entered
Shrewsbury with an army of nearer thirty than twenty thousand men.
They were just in time, for that same evening Hotspur (for his father
had been detained in Northumberland by illness) with a force usually
estimated at about 15,000, arrived at the city gates, only to find to
his surprise the royal standard floating from the castle tower, and
the King already in possession. It was then late in the afternoon and
Hotspur led his army to Berwick, a hamlet three miles to the
north-west of Shrewsbury. Though his father was not present, his
uncle, Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester, had lately joined him, having
stolen away from the side of Prince Henry, whose chief adviser he had
lately been. The Scottish Earl Douglas, who had been his prisoner at
Homildon, was now his ally, having, together with his comrades in
misfortune, purchased liberty in this doubtless congenial fashion.
Percy had left Northumberland with 160 followers. His force had now
grown, as I have already remarked, to something like 15,000 men.
The County Palatine of Chester, always turbulent and still faithful to
Richard's memory, was most strongly represented in his ranks, and its
archers were among the best in England.[10] Numbers, too, of Glyndwr's
supporters from Flint and the Powys lordships joined his standard, and
Richard's badge of the White Hart was prominent on their shields and
tunics. But Hotspur had assuredly reckoned on meeting Glyndwr, and now
where was he? He had certainly never counted on being stopped by the
King with a superior force upon the borders of Wales. He had now no
choice but to fight, and even Hotspur's fiery spirit must have drooped
for a moment when he counted the odds.
[10] It had been made a military Palatinate by William the
Conqueror, with the special object of coercing North Wales. Having
lapsed to the Crown in Richard's time, that King had leaned
greatly in his difficulties on its warlike and independent
population. The latter with its military efficiency had developed
a corresponding arrogance and local pride, and Richard had been
the last object of its provincial devotion.
The morning of the 21st broke and there was still no Glyndwr and no
alternative but battle; so, marching his troops to Heytely or Bull
field, a short three miles to the north of Shrewsbury on the Wem road,
he drew them up in order of battle, near the place where the church
that was raised above their graves now stands.
Hotspur for the moment was depressed. He had just discovered that the
hamlet where he had spent the night was called Berwick, and a
soothsayer in the North had foretold that he should "fall at Berwick,"
meaning, of course, the famous town upon the Tweed. The coincidence
affected Percy and showed that if Glyndwr was superstitious so also
was he; for, turning pale, he said: "I perceive my plough is now
drawing to its last furrow." But the most lion-hearted soldier in
England soon shook off such craven fears and proceeded to address his
men in a speech which Holinshed has preserved for us: a spirited and
manly appeal which we must not linger over here. The King was
curiously slow in moving out against his foes, and even when, after
noontide, he had drawn up his formidable army in their front, he gave
his faithless friends yet one more chance, sending the Abbot of
Shrewsbury to offer them good terms even at this eleventh hour, and it
was certainly not fear that prompted the overture. Hotspur was touched
and inclined to listen, but his hot-headed or mistrustful uncle of
Worcester overruled him, even going himself to the King's army and
using language that made conciliation impossible. It must have been
well into the afternoon when the King threw his mace into the air as a
signal for the bloodiest battle to open that since the Norman conquest
had dyed the soil of England.
With such a wealth of description from various authors, more or less
contemporary, it is not easy to pick out in brief the most salient
features of this sanguinary fight. It will be sufficient to say that
the shooting of Percy's Cheshire archers was so terrific at the
opening of the battle that the royal army was thrown into confusion
and only saved from rout by the valour and presence of mind of the
King, who rallied his shaken troops and bore upon the smaller forces
of his enemy with irresistible pressure; that the desperate charges of
Hotspur and Lord Douglas, cleaving lanes through their enemy as they
sought the King's person, were the leading personal features of a
fight where all were brave. The valour of the young Prince Henry, too,
seeing how prominent a figure he is in our story, must be recorded,
and how, though badly wounded by an arrow in the face, he resisted
every effort to drag him from the field and still sought the spot
where the fight was fiercest and the dead thickest. The courage and
coolness of the King, too, whose crown and kingdom were at stake,
shone brightly in the deadly mêlée, where his standard was overthrown,
its bearer slain, and the Constable of England, Lord Stafford, killed
at his feet. Hotspur, who had fought like a lion with a score of
knightly opponents, fell at length, pierced by a missile from some
unknown hand; and before sunset his army was in full flight. The
slaughter was tremendous, and lasted far into the dark hours; for it
is curiously significant that as an early moon rose over that bloody
field, its face was quickly hidden by an eclipse that may well have
excited the already strained imaginations of so superstitious an age.
About four thousand men lay dead upon the field, among them two
hundred knights and gentlemen of Cheshire alone, who had followed
Percy. The Earl of Worcester and Lord Douglas were both captured, the
former receiving a traitor's death. The corpse of the gallant Hotspur,
after being buried by a kinsman, was dug up again and placed standing
upright between two millstones in Shrewsbury market-place, that all
men might know that the fierce Northumberland whelp, the friend of
Glyndwr, was dead. His quarters were then sent, after the manner of
the time, to decorate the walls of the chief English cities, the
honour of exhibiting his head over the gates being reserved for York.
[Sidenote: Under Henry's patronage.]
The more illustrious dead were buried in the graveyards of Shrewsbury.
The rest were, for the most part, huddled into great pits adjoining
the spot where the old church, that was raised under Henry's patronage
as a shrine wherein masses might be said for their souls, still lifts
its grey tower amid the quiet Shropshire fields.[11]
[11] Battle-field Church, which now serves a small parish, is
probably the only instance in England of a church erected over the
burial-pits of a battle for the purpose of saying masses for the
victims of a great slaughter, and that now does duty as a parish
church. The fabric has had periods of dilapidation and been much
restored, but a good part of the walls is original. There was a
college originally attached to it, but all trace of this has
disappeared. My first visit to the battle-field was in company
with the Rev. Dymock Fletcher, well known as a Shropshire
antiquary, who has published an interesting pamphlet on this
subject.
And all this time Glyndwr, in far Carmarthen, was in total ignorance
of what a chance he had missed, and what a calamity had occurred. If
Hotspur had been better served in his communications, or fate in this
respect had been kinder, and Glyndwr with 10,000 men had stood by the
Percys' side, how differently might the course of English history have
run! It is fortunate for England, beyond a doubt, that Hotspur fell at
Shrewsbury and that Glyndwr was not there, but from the point of view
of his after reputation, one cannot resist the feeling that a great
triumph upon the open plains of Shropshire, in an historic fight,
would have set that seal upon Glyndwr's renown which some perhaps may
think is wanting. Reckless deeds of daring and aggression are more
picturesque attributes for a popular hero. But Glyndwr's fame lies
chiefly in the patience of his strategy, his self-command, his
influence over his people, his tireless energy, his strength of will,
and dogged persistence. He had to do a vast deal with small means: to
unite a country honeycombed with alien interests, to fight enemies at
home and beyond the mountain borders of his small fatherland, and to
struggle with a nation that within man's memory had laid France
prostrate at its feet. Private adventures and risky experiments he
could not afford. A great deal of statecraft fell to his share. His
efforts for Welsh independence could not ultimately succeed without
allies, and while he was stimulating the irregular military resources
of the Principality, and making things safe there with no gentle hand,
his mind was of necessity much occupied with the men and events that
might aid him in the three kingdoms and across the seas. His
individual prowess would depend almost wholly on tradition and the
odes of his laureate, Iolo Goch, if it were not for his feat against
the Flemings when surrounded by them on the Plinlimmon Mountains:
"Surrounded by the numerous foe,
Well didst thou deal the unequal blow,
How terrible thy ashen spear,
Which shook the bravest heart with fear.
More horrid than the lightning's glance,
Flashed the red meteors from thy lance,
The harbinger of death."
But Glyndwr's renown, with all its blemishes, rests on something more
than sword-cuts and lance-thrusts. He had been three years in the
field, and for two of them paramount in Wales. Now, however, with the
rout and slaughter of Shrewsbury, and the immense increase of strength
it gave to Henry, a crushing blow had surely been struck at the Welsh
chieftain and his cause. Numbers of Owen's people in Flint and the
adjoining lordships, cowed by the slaughter of half the gentry of
sympathetic Cheshire, and their own losses, came in for the pardon
that was freely offered. The King had a large army, too, on the Welsh
border, and the moment would seem a singularly propitious one for
bringing all Wales to his feet, while the effect of his tremendous
victory was yet simmering in men's minds. But Henry was too furious
with the Percys for cool deliberation. The old Earl had not been
absent from the field of Shrewsbury from disinclination, but from
illness; and he was now in the North stirring up revolt upon all
sides. But the ever active King, speeding northward, checkmated him at
York in such a way that there was no option for the recusant nobleman
but to throw himself at his injured prince's feet and crave
forgiveness. It is to Henry's credit that he pardoned his ancient
friend. Perhaps he thought the blood of two Percys was sufficient for
one occasion; so the old Earl rode out of York by the King's side,
under the festering head of his gallant son, on whom he had been mean
enough to throw the onus of his own faithlessness, and was placed for
a time out of mischief at Coventry.
By the time, however, that Henry came south again the battle of
Shrewsbury, so far as Wales was concerned, might never have been
fought. Glyndwr's confidence in the South was so great that he had
himself gone north to steady the men of Flint and the borders in their
temporary panic. His mission seems to have been so effective that by
the time the King was back it was the town of Chester and the
neighbouring castles that were the victims of a panic. An edict issued
by Prince Henry, who lay recovering from his wound at Shrewsbury,
ordered the expulsion of every Welshman from the border towns, the
penalty for return being death. Strenuous efforts were again made to
stop all trade between England and Wales, but it was useless; a
continuous traffic in arms and provisions went steadily on, the goods
being exchanged for cattle and booty of all kinds in which Owen's
mountain strongholds now abounded. On the Welsh side of Chester,
hedges and ditches were hastily formed as a protection against
invasion, and watchers were kept stationed night and day along the
shores of the Dee estuary.
It was the 8th of September when Henry arrived from the north and
prepared at Worcester for his long-deferred expedition against
Glyndwr. He first issued formal orders to the Marcher barons to keep
their castles in readiness against assault and in good repair!--a
superfluous warning one would have thought, and not devoid of irony,
when addressed to men who for a year or two had just managed to
maintain a precarious existence against the waters of rebellion that
surged all round them. Henry was at his very wits' end for money, and
all those in his interest were feeling the pinch of poverty. It so
happened that at this juncture the Archbishop of Canterbury was
attending the Court at Worcester, and the sight of his magnificent
retinue aroused dangerous thoughts in the minds of the barons around
the King, who had spent so much blood and treasure in his service and
were now sorely pinched for want of means. The same ideas occurred to
Henry, if indeed they were not suggested to him, and in no uncertain
voice he called upon the Church for pecuniary aid against Glyndwr. The
Archbishop took in the situation and sniffed spoliation in the air. At
the bare idea of such intentions he grew desperate, and with amazing
courage bearded the King himself, swearing that the first man who laid
a finger on church property should find his life no longer worth
living and his soul for ever damned. The King was forced to soothe the
excited cleric, who in later and calmer moments came to the conclusion
that it would be perhaps prudent for the Church to offer some
pecuniary assistance to the Crown. This was ultimately done, and the
sum contributed was about enough to pay the expenses of one of the
forty or fifty castles that were gradually falling into Owen's hands.
In the meantime, Glyndwr had invaded Herefordshire, penetrating as far
as Leominster, and had compelled that county to make special terms
with him and pay heavily for them too. The King, however, had now
everything in train for a general advance through South Wales. What he
did there and what he left undone must be reserved for another
chapter.
[Decoration]
[Decoration]