Chapter II: Part 2

“The five regal Tribes, and the respective representative of each,
were considered as of royal blood. The fifteen common Tribes, all of
North Wales, and the respective representative of each, formed the
nobility, were lords of distinct districts, and bore some hereditary
office in the palace. Grufydd ab Cynan, Prince of North Wales, Rhys
ab Tewdwr, of South Wales, and Bleddyn ab Cynvyn, of Powys, regulated
both these classes, but did not create them; as many of the persons,
placed at their head, lived before their times, and some after.
Their precedence, as it stands, is very uncertain, and not governed
by dates; the last of them were created by Davydd ab Owain Gwynedd,
who began his reign in 1169. We are left ignorant of the form by
which they were called to this rank. Mr. Vaughan, of Hengwrt,
informs us that Grufydd ab Cynan, Rhys ab Tewdwr, and Bleddyn ab
Cynvyn made diligent search after the arms, ensigns, and pedigrees of
their ancestors, the nobility and kings of the Britons. What they
discovered by their pains in any paper or records, was afterwards by
the Bards digested, and put into books, and they ordained five Royal
Tribes, there being only three before, from whom their posterity to
this day can derive themselves, and also fifteen special Tribes, of
whom the gentry of North Wales are for the most part descended!’”

It will be seen from the foregoing pages that we have abstained from all minute detail in our description of the continued struggles for mastery between the Welsh and their own kindred, as well as of the strife for power and dominion between the Cambrian princes and their foreign invaders. These scenes in the history of Wales are nothing more, to use the eloquent language of Warrington, than “a recital of reciprocal inroads and injuries—a series of objects unvaried and of little importance, which pass the eye in a succession of cold delineations, like the evanescent figures produced by the _camera obscura_. The characters and events are not brought distinctly into view, nor are they sufficiently explained, to enable the historian to judge of their proportions, their beauty, or defects; whence he can neither develope the principles of action, nor trace the connection of causes with effects, by leading incidents, or by the general springs which govern human affairs.” “The story of our country under its native princes,” observes another impartial writer on Welsh history, “is a wretched calendar of crimes, of usurpations, and family assassinations; and in this dismal detail we should believe ourselves rather on the Bosphorus than the banks of the Dee.” The British or Welsh rulers had doubtless much to complain of against their Roman, Saxon, and Norman invaders; but their own conduct towards their own people—to those who by affinity claimed their protection and regard—was quite as guilty as that of their foreign foes.

Throughout the entire reign of Henry I. we read in the Welsh annals of nothing but “a series of retaliated injuries arising in regular succession; evils naturally springing from the passions, where they usurp the sword of justice.” Henry died about the year 1135, and Stephen succeeded to the English throne, and was soon embarked in a sea of troubles. Engaged in continual hostilities, and in supporting a doubtful title, he prudently concluded a peace with the Welsh, and allowed them to retain the territories they had lately recovered, free of homage or tribute. The incidents of Stephen’s reign were marked by no feature of national interest; and the only reference made to it in connection with this district is William Fitz-Alan’s espousal of the claim made by the Empress Maud to the English crown. His union with other noblemen, to dethrone Stephen, exposed him to danger, and he was compelled to leave the kingdom, abandoning his lands and other property to the incensed monarch. Whilst an exile from England he remained faithful to the interests of the Empress; and on his return to this country on the death of Stephen, and the accession to the throne of Henry II., he reaped the reward of his spirit and fidelity, by receiving back all his forfeited honours and estates, including the Castles of Oswestry and Clun. Of Oswestry Castle we shall speak particularly in subsequent pages. Of Clun we may at present say, that it remained in the direct line of William Fitz-Alan down to the reign of Queen Elizabeth, when the last Earl died. By the marriage of Mary Fitz-Alan with Philip Howard, the son of Thomas, Duke of Norfolk, it became vested in that noble family. From them it passed to the Walcotts, and afterwards, by purchase, to Lord Clive, in whose family it continues. The Duke of Norfolk still retains the title of “Baron of Clun,” as well as that of “Baron of Oswaldestre.”

Henry was an inveterate and formidable enemy to the interests of Wales. He speedily employed his utmost force in attempting to subjugate the Cambrian people; and it is recorded of Madog ab Meredydd, Prince of Powys, who had united with the enemies of his country, that he incited the English king to an invasion of North Wales. Henry listened to the solicitations of the Powysian prince, and eagerly exerted every means for the conquest of the country. He quickly raised a powerful army, and marched without delay into North Wales. Mathew Paris states that the levy of Henry, raised at this time, amounted to 30,000 men. Owain Gwynedd, in this campaign, gallantly led the Welsh, and in one of the actions, at _Coed Euloe_, near Hawarden, Flintshire, the monarch himself, who had encamped near the field of battle, escaped from the hands of the Welsh with the greatest difficulty. The English forces, having been strengthened, pursued the Welsh, and at length Prince Owain, fearful that his army would perish for want of provisions, concluded a peace with the King of England. He himself and his chieftains submitted to do homage to Henry, and to yield up the castles and districts in North Wales which, in the last reign, had been obtained from the English. Lord Lyttleton tells us, that to complete this humiliating position, Owain was obliged to deliver up two of his sons as pledges of his future obedience. The year after this important event a general peace took place between England and Wales; the princes and all the chieftains of South Wales repaired to the court of England, where Henry granted peace, on the Welsh doing homage for their own territories, and formally ceding to him the districts recovered from the English in the last reign. This peaceful state of things was but of short duration. Rhys, the son of Grufydd ab Rhys, immediate heir to the sovereign power of South Wales, having been outraged by several English lords, threw off his allegiance, commenced a revolt, and rallied around him a numerous force, which perplexed and baffled the English monarch. Shortly afterwards, fired by the gallant example of Rhys, the Prince of North Wales (Owain Gwynedd), and all his sons, his brother Cadwaladr, and the chieftains of Powys, united with him, in the endeavour to regain their independence and honour. After some slight skirmishes with the Welsh, Henry gathered together a formidable force, with which he marched into Powys, breathing slaughter and extermination against the inhabitants. All the historical writers, in describing this fearful onslaught, admit that few events of ancient times were more deeply stained with the blood of innocence. The English army, formed of the choicest troops, from Normandy, Anjou, Flanders, Brittany, and other territories which Henry possessed in France, entered the Welsh confines at Oswestry, where it was encamped for some time. The forces of North Wales were collected under the command of Owain Gwynedd and his brother Cadwaladr; the army of South Wales was headed by the chivalrous Rhys ab Grufydd; and the men of Powys were led by Owain Cyveiliog, and the sons of Madog ab Meredydd. The combined forces of the Welsh assembled at Corwen, where they awaited the approach of the English. Henry, burning with ardour to attack the enemy, marched his army to the banks of the Ceiriog, near the present village of Chirk, and at once ordered that the woods on each side of the river be cut down, to prevent ambuscades and sudden approaches of the enemy. It is related by some writers, that on the passage of the Ceiriog Henry was in imminent danger of losing his life: attempting to force a bridge, an arrow aimed at him by the hand of a Welshman must inevitably have pierced his body, if Hubert de St. Clare, Constable of Colchester, perceiving the danger, had not in a moment sprang before his sovereign and received it into his own bosom, and thereby met with his death-wound. Whilst the English soldiers were employed in felling the woods, a detachment of the Welsh forces forded the river, and suddenly attacked the van of Henry’s army, composed of pikemen, considered to be the most daring and gallant portion of his soldiers. A fierce battle ensued; many were killed on both sides, but at length Henry gained the passage, and advanced onward to the Berwyn mountains, to recruit his troops. There he remained in camp for several days. The Welsh were posted on the mountain-heights opposite, watching with lynx-eyed care every movement of the enemy. They succeeded in cutting off his supplies, and his army was reduced to extreme distress and privation, for want of food for man and horse. To increase his difficulties, sudden and heavy rains fell, which rendered the country on the Berwyn side so slippery and dangerous, that neither men nor horses could stand on their feet. Torrents of water, from the incessant rains, poured down from the mountains into the vale where Henry was encamped; and, unable to maintain his ground amidst all these unexpected disasters, he retired, with great loss of men, and, what was more annoying to his vaunting spirit, with defeat and disgrace. Fired with revenge, and urged by the barbarism which ever marks the tyrant, he commanded that the eyes of all the hostages which had been placed in his hands should be put out. The two sons of Rhys ab Grufydd, Prince of South Wales, and the two sons also of Owain Gwynedd, Prince of North Wales, became the unfortunate victims of Henry’s cruelty. Holinshead, in his Chronicles, tells us, that besides these young chieftains, the atrocious monarch caused the sons and daughters of several Welsh lords to be treated with the same severity; ordering the eyes of the young striplings to be pecked out of their heads, and the ears of the gentlewomen to be stuffed.

In the annals of Wales this battle is ranked among the brightest achievements of the Welsh, in their long-continued struggles for liberty. The site is known by the mournful designation of _Adwy’r Beddau_, or the Pass of the Graves. The conflict is called in most of the ancient books, “_The Battle of Crogen_.” Yorke observes, “it has been erroneously said that the term Crogen was used in contempt and derision of the Welsh; but that was not the truth: the English meant to express by it animosity, and the desire of revenge.” “Many of the English,” he adds, “were slain, and buried in Offa’s Dyke, below Chirk Castle, and the part so filled up is to be seen, and forms a passage over it, called to this day _Adwy’r Beddau_, or the Pass of the Graves.” The late Mr. William Price, in an annotated edition of his “History of Oswestry,” published in 1815, has the following note on the Battle of Crogen:—

“Owain Gwynedd slept at Tyn-y-Rhos, the present residence of Richard
Phillips, Esq., who has still in preservation the bedstead he at that
time lay upon. Likewise a Deed or Lease of a piece of land, of five
acres, for 2s. 8d. per year; with a cock and hen at Christmas, and a
man a day in the harvest; which still preserves the name.”

Turning for a moment to the civil government of Oswestry, it may be mentioned that in the reign of Henry II, the first Charter was granted to Oswestry, by William, Earl of Arundel. The Welsh called it “_Siarter Cwtta_,” the Short Charter. It was a Charter of protection, of which there were many granted about this period. It states, “I have received in protection my Burgesses of Blanc-Minster. Richard de Chambre was Constable of White-Minster. Thomas de Rossall held Rossall, of John Fitz-Alan, in chief, of one knight’s fee at White-Minster.” Guto (y Glyn), an excellent poet who flourished from 1430 to 1460, a native of Llangollen, and domestic bard to the Abbot of Llanegwestl, or Valle Crucis, near that romantic town, speaks of White-Minster in his days. He says, “I know not of any Convent of Monks superior to White-Minster.”

About the year 1188, William Fitz-Alan, Earl of Arundel, gave a sumptous banquet in the Castle of Oswestry, to Giraldus Cambrensis, and Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, on their return from Wales, the bleak and barren mountains of which they had just travelled over, in an attempt to incite the people to the intended Crusade to the Holy Land. Giraldus seems to have considered that the entertainment given by the Norman Earl was too luxurious for saintly personages. He speaks, however, with much complacency of the comfortable accommodations provided for him and the Archbishop at Shrewsbury, whither they repaired from this town. “From Oswestry,” says he, “that Prelate and his retinue came after Easter (1188) to Slopesbury, where they remained some days to recruit and refresh themselves, and many assumed the cross in obedience to the precepts of the Archbishop, and the gracious sermon of the Archdeacon of St. David’s. Here also they excommunicated Oen de Cevelioc (Owain Cyveiliog, Prince of Powys), because he alone of all the Welsh princes, had not advanced to meet the Archbishop.” The visit of Giraldus and Baldwin to Oswestry might have been induced by a two-fold motive, namely, to partake of the princely hospitality of Fitz-Alan, in his baronial castle, and to hold “ghostly communication” with Regner, Bishop of St. Asaph, who at this period resided in Oswaldestre.

The succeeding portion of Henry II’s long reign was largely occupied with plans and movements to subdue the Welsh princes and their people. After repeated struggles, the English monarch saw, with exulting spirit, that he had reduced Cambrian independence to a bye-word of contempt, by seducing them from patriotism and virtue, and rendering them a disunited and improvident people. When he had accomplished this signal victory over them, and hoped to enjoy further years of sovereign power in comparative ease and tranquillity, the fate even of monarchs was dealt out to him. His mortal career was ended, and he was “gathered to his fathers:”—

“The glories of our blood and state are shadows, not substantial
things;
There is no armour against fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings.”

Henry was succeeded by Richard, his son, surnamed Cœur-de-Lion, whose reign continued for about ten years, when he was slain at the siege of Chalons, in France, and John, his brother, ascended the throne. During Richard’s monarchy the town of Oswestry was not marked by any event worthy the record of the contemporary historian.

The reign of John was distinguished by strong enmity to the Welsh. In 1211 he assembled a large army at Oswestry, and was there joined by many of the Welsh Chieftains, his vassals, with whom he marched to Chester; resolving to exterminate the people of North Wales. It is revolting to trace the history of this feeble-minded and capricious king. His reckless attacks upon Wales, and his inveterate quarrel with his son-in-law, Prince Llywelyn ab Jorwerth, added to his troubles, and probably hastened his end. As a last effort against Wales, resenting Llywelyn’s stern defence of Cambrian independence, John demolished the castles of Radnor and Hay; and then, proceeding to the Marches, he set fire to Oswestry Castle, then under the governorship of John Fitz-Alan, (who had united with the barons of England in renouncing allegiance to the English Monarch, on his refusal to confirm their constitutional rights,) and burnt it to the ground.

In the reign of Henry III. John Fitz-Alan, who was reconciled to the king, procured for his Manor of Blanc-Minster the grant of a Fair on the eve, the day, and the day after St. Andrew’s feast. The Bailiffs were also made clerks of the market, with privilege to imprison any person detected in forestalling; for which they were paid twenty marks as a consideration. These petty officers, “dressed in a little brief authority,” abused their power, and gave occasion to frequent remonstrances from the inhabitants. Powel, who seems to have paid great deference to “the powers that be,” concludes, not very logically, we think, that it was “no wonder that so many of the grievances which the Welsh so much complained of to Edward I. should originate from this place.”

The historic facts recorded subsequent to this period are brief and meagre. We are told that in 1233 Oswestry was again destroyed by fire. Llywelyn ab Jorwerth had just made an inroad into the county of Brecknock, destroying all the towns and fortresses belonging to that territory; he then invested the castle, lay before it a month, raised the siege, finding his efforts to be fruitless, set fire to the town, and pursued his way to the Marches. Conflagration and ruin marked his progress: he burnt the town of Clun, in Salop, demolished Redde Castle, in Powys, and laid Oswestry in ashes. A few months afterwards, Llywelyn and Lord Pembroke, having joined their forces, made another inroad into the English Marches, and having rendered all that country a scene of devastation, they finished their fiery career by laying part of the town of Shrewsbury (Frankwell, it is supposed,) in ashes.

Early in the reign of Edward I. that monarch was intent on bowing the stubborn neck of Llywelyn ab Grufydd (the last native sovereign Prince of Wales). Llywelyn was refractory, and ambitious to maintain his order. Edward summoned him to a parliament in London, but Llywelyn refused to comply with the royal command. In reply, he offered (Oct. 14, 1276–7,) to repair to Montgomery, or to “the White Monastery of John Fitz-Alan,” as Oswestry was then called, but declined a journey to the metropolis of England. On the receipt of this answer, by which Edward, resolute to exact a personal obedience, was, or affected to be, greatly enraged, the Parliament immediately condemned Llywelyn as a rebel, for his non-appearance. The melancholy end of the Welsh prince is well known. “If,” says an elegant historian, “the valour of Llywelyn, his talents, and his patriotism, had been exhibited upon a more splendid theatre,—on the plains of Marathon, or in the straits of Thermopylæ,—his name would have been recorded in the classic page, and his memory revered, as an illustrious hero, and as a gallant assertor of the rights of nature.”

Edward did not confine his attention to Wales only, but extended it to the Borders, and included in his eagle-eyed glance the town of Oswestry. “Provision was made,” says Pennant, “against future insults; for in the reign of Edward I. the town (Oswestry) was surrounded with walls. This happened when that politic monarch meditated the conquest of Wales; he therefore thought proper to secure this town, one of the keys of the country, with proper defence.” He commenced the erection of the walls in 1277. They are said to have been about a mile in circumference, with an intrenchment on the outside, which could be filled with water from the numerous streams in the vicinity. Edward’s order to put Oswestry into a state of defence issued from Shrewsbury—the seat of his government for several months—and his letters patent, directed to the Bailiffs and Burgesses of the ancient town, are worthy of record, as they show the mode in which taxation was levied in early days. This curious document is as follows:—

“Of the Murage of Oswaldestre. The King to the Bailiffs and
Burgesses, and the other good men of Oswaldestre greeting.

“Know ye that we have granted in aid of enclosing our town of
Oswaldestre, that from the feast of St. Thomas the Apostle in the
twelvth year of our reign to the end of twenty years thence ensuing,
ye may take in the same Town, to the reparation of the walls of the
same Town, of every horse-load of corn to be sold, one halfpenny; of
every horse and mare, ox and cow sold, one halfpenny; of every hide
of horse and mare, ox and cow, fresh, salt, or tanned, one farthing;
of every cart bringing salted flesh to sell, twopence; of five bacons
sold, one halfpenny; of a salmon fresh sold, one halfpenny; of ten
sheep, goats, or pigs sold, one penny; of ten fleeces of wool, one
penny; of one hundred skins of sheep, goats, stags, hind bucks and
does, one penny; of every hundred skins of lambs, kids, hares,
rabbits, foxes, cats, and squirrels, one halfpenny; of every cart of
salt to sell, one penny; of every horse-load of salt to sell by the
week, one farthing; of every horse-load of cloth to sell, one penny;
of every entire cloth to sell in the town of Gloucester, one penny;
of every cloth of silk brocaded and diapered with gold, one penny; of
every cloth of silk without gold and chef de cendall, one halfpenny;
of every dole of wine to sell, two pence; of every horse-load of
honey to sell, one penny; of every dole of honey to sell, four pence;
of every sack of wool to sell, four pence; of every truss of cloth to
sell brought by cart, four pence; of every horse-load of cloth to
sell, or other diverse and small things coming to be sold in the same
town, one halfpenny; of every cart of iron to sell, one penny; of
every horse-load of iron to sell, one halfpenny; of every carriage of
lead to sell, two pence; of tallow and lard to sell, one farthing; of
every hundred of alum and copperas to sell, one halfpenny; of two
thousand onions, a farthing; of every thousand of herrings to sell,
one halfpenny; of every hundred of boards to sell, one halfpenny; of
every mill sold, one penny; of every thousand of laths sold, one
penny; of every new cart sold, one halfpenny; of every hundred of
faggots to sell, one halfpenny; of every quarter of salt, one
farthing; of every twelve horse-loads of coal sold, one halfpenny; of
every thousand of all manner of nails to sell, except cart nails, one
farthing; of a thousand of cart nails to sell, one halfpenny; of
every hundred of horse shoes and clouts to carts to sell, one
halfpenny; for every truss of any sort of merchandise coming for sale
to the aforesaid town, of the value of two shillings, one farthing;
of every cauldron sold to brew, one penny; of every quarter of
oatmeal to sell, one halfpenny: And we therefore command that ye take
the said custom to the end of the term aforesaid, but the term of the
said twenty years being compleat, the said custom ceases and is done
away. In witness, &c.”

Pennant states that the walls were begun in the sixth of Edward I., and that “the murage or toll was granted on the inhabitants of the county, which lasted for six years, in which time it may be supposed the walls were completed.”

Archbishop Peckham visited Oswestry, June 12, 1284. He was received with great respect by Anian, Bishop of St. Asaph, the clergy, and others. Anian obtained from the king a confirmation of the rights and privileges of his church, and received from John Fitz-Alan, Earl of Arundel, and Baron of Oswestry and Clun, the grant to his church of one hundred acres of land at St. Martins, paying yearly at Midsummer, for ever, a pair of gilt spurs; with the condition, that neither the bishop nor his successors should alienate the same. This grant is dated at _Album Monasterium_, 1271. Richard, son of the said John Fitz-Alan, afterwards confirmed it, and also gave forty-five acres more, with the manor-house belonging thereto. Anian had a long dispute at Rome respecting the placing of a vicar in Blanc-Monasterium, the tithes of which his predecessor had given to the Abbey of Shrewsbury. The issue was, that the abbot, for the peaceable enjoyment of his tithes, gave the whole of his lands at St. Martins, upon paying two _Welsh knives_ yearly. These said knives, if now produced at Sheffield, would doubtless disturb the risible faculties of the keen knife-manufacturers there.

Edward II. was much annoyed and harassed in the latter part of his reign, partly from his want of fidelity to many of his most distinguished nobles, the two Mortimers, uncle and nephew, among their number. A revolution broke out against the king, in 1325, concocted, it is said, by the queen and her favourite, Roger Mortimer, Lord of Wigmore, in which the French monarch also took part. A strong feeling for and against Edward was manifested in Shrewsbury, where the Mortimers were well known. Edmund, Earl of Arundel, was one of the few peers who had preserved their loyalty to the crown. He assembled a multitude of his Welsh tenantry at Oswestry, with a view of seizing Shrewsbury for the king. Arundel was, however, apprehended near Shrewsbury, with certain of his adherents, after an obstinate struggle. The Earl was taken from that town to Hereford, where he expiated his loyalty on the scaffold. For this “service” the “good men of Salop” had all the goods and chattels found upon him. After his execution, the queen, to show her attachment to her paramour, Lord Mortimer, obtained the Castle of Oswestry for that favourite. In 1324, Edmund, Earl of Arundel, granted two shops in Leg-street, to the burgesses of Oswestry for ever, on payment of 13s. 4d. yearly. This grant is witnessed by “Lord Richard, Abbot of Haggemon,” and others, and “dated at Oswaldestre, on the feast of St. Michael, in the 18th year of the reign of King Edward, the son of King Edward.”

Edward III.’s reign was long and glorious. It was distinguished by the ever-memorable battle of Cressy. Part of the inhabitants of this town doubtless contributed to the victory thus obtained; for in 1346 the king directed Richard Fitz-Alan to raise two hundred of his vassals from Oswestry and Clun, to attend him in the French wars.

In 1397 Richard, Earl of Arundel and Surrey, was attainted and executed, when Richard II. seized all his lands and manors, and granted them to William le Scrope, Earl of Wiltshire. In the _Historia Regum Angliæ_ we find the following bit of superstition entertained at this period. On this occasion the Earl of Arundel must, of course, have deeply regretted his contempt of the marvellous stone of which John Ross, the Antiquary, of Warwick, writes. “The earl,” says this grave author, “kept a raven in his court; and one day, as he was playing at chess in the garden, the bird,” or, as Ross suggests, “a spirit in that form, brought up (_eructavit_) a stone having the virtue of invisibility. The earl set no value upon it, contrary to the advice of his nobles; and soon after, being arrested by strong hand, he was committed to ward, and finally beheaded.”

The king, having put down all opposition to certain measures which he was resolved to carry, by the execution of Arundel, and the murder of his uncle of Gloucester, adjourned his Parliament at Westminster to Shrewsbury, and from thence to Oswestry. An apprehension of tumult among the Earl of Arundel’s tenantry in this county, from his violent death, and the seizure of his estates, was probably the reason for making both Shrewsbury and Oswestry the scene of that national assembly. The Parliament met at Shrewsbury Jan. 29, 1397–8, and was designated THE GREAT PARLIAMENT. In this regal visit he displayed great magnificence, and entertained the members with a sumptuous banquet, he appearing among the people in his costly royal robes. Whilst in Shrewsbury Richard made Chester a Principality, and annexed to it the Castle of Holt, the lordship of Bromfield and Yale, Chirkland, and various other places in Wales and on the Borders. During the proceedings in Parliament it was ascertained that deadly hatred subsisted between the Dukes of Hereford and Norfolk. These noblemen had been jointly concerned in the impeachment of Arundel and his fellow-sufferers, at Westminster. Norfolk, touched by remorse for his share in the ruin of a patriotic peer, or desirous of ensnaring his late confederate, who had charged Norfolk with using words disrespectful to the king, fell into open quarrel with Hereford, who made the matter a subject of public accusation in the Parliament against his antagonist. The king, unwilling that any discourse about himself should be made the subject of open discussion, suddenly closed the proceedings of Parliament, and adjourned to Oswestry. In the assembly there the dispute between the two Dukes was recommenced, and the king resolved that it should be ended by a duel between the belligerent parties at Coventry. The combat did not take place, as the Duke of Norfolk refused to fight; upon which Norfolk was banished from the kingdom for ever, and Hereford for ten years. As a mark of the royal favour, Richard granted, before the Parliament closed, the first Charter conferred upon Oswestry, by which the town was incorporated by the name of “_The Bailiffs and Burgesses of Oswestry_, _infra Palatinatum Cestriæ in Marchia inter Angliam et Walliam_.” The Charter, which was founded upon the one granted just before at Shrewsbury, exempted the Burgesses from all contributions and exactions whatsoever, throughout the kingdom, the city of London excepted. It bears date, August 14, 1399.

The close of Richard’s kingly rule was near. His love of idle show and magnificence, his delight in popular applause, the buzzing about him of parasites and flatterers, and his indulgence in pleasures, were followed by a brief scene of bitter existence, which ended in degrading humiliation and painful death. The eyes of Henry of Lancaster, Duke of Hereford, had long been directed towards the throne, and he actively employed his agents to place him upon it. The classic historians of Shrewsbury assure us that, either from the disgust occasioned by outrages perpetrated upon the Burgesses, by Richard’s body-guard, or disorderly multitudes brought into the town during the sittings of his Parliament, “it is certain that the revolution which placed Henry of Lancaster on the throne had the entire concurrence of the inhabitants of these parts (Shropshire). When the Duke proceeded into Wales to circumvent the unhappy Richard, he passed through Ludlow and Shrewsbury, and was joined here (Shrewsbury) by the Lords Scales and Bardolph, Sir Robert and Sir John Legh, and other gentlemen of Cheshire.” Richard, after suffering much indignity, was secured a prisoner in Flint Castle, by the great conspirator Lancaster, and from thence was led in the Duke’s train to Chester. Here Bolingbroke delivered the subdued monarch to the Duke of Gloucester and Thomas, Earl of Arundel, saying, “Here is the murderer of your father, you must be answerable for him.” He was subsequently conveyed to Pontefract Castle, where he was basely assassinated by a band of armed ruffians, four of whom he killed with a battle-axe before he fell.

The untimely death of Richard caused an immediate change in the government of Oswestry. Its newly-created lord, the Earl of Wiltshire, fell a victim to popular fury, and Thomas, son of the attainted Earl of Arundel, was restored to the manorial rights and dignities of Oswestry. The Earl of Huntington, the king’s brother, fled into the county of Essex; but passing through a village belonging to the Countess of Hereford (sister of the deceased Richard, Earl of Arundel), he was discovered, and arrested. The countess apprized the new monarch, Henry, of the capture, and desired him to send to her the young Earl of Arundel, her nephew, that he might witness the mode in which she intended to avenge herself of her brother’s death. The Earl of Arundel posted to the place where Huntington was prisoner, and loaded him with reproaches. The countess delivered the captive nobleman, bound with chains, into the hands of eight thousand of her vassals, whom she called together for the occasion. The wretched prisoner, struck with terror at the preparations made to take away his life, sued for mercy, and protested that he had not committed the foul act of which he was accused. Had the countess restrained her rage, and listened to reason and justice, she would have found that Huntington was not a guilty murderer, but that Richard, Earl of Arundel, was brought to the block mainly by the treachery of the Earl of Nottingham. Heedless of his protestations and cries for mercy, she commanded her vassals to cut him to pieces. His assembled executioners are said to have taken pity upon him; whilst the countess and young earl strenuously urged his death. Maddened by rage, she exclaimed, “Curse on ye all, villains; you have not the courage to put a man to death.” This violent exclamation roused an esquire, who offered himself as executioner. He seized the hatchet, and approached Huntington, but was so touched with his tender complaints, that he trembled with emotion; and returning to the countess, his eyes being filled with tears, he said, “I would not put the earl to death for all the gold in the world.” The countess, full of indignation, looking at him “unutterable things,” exclaimed, “Do what thou hast promised, or thy own head shall be cut off.” When he heard this he was so afraid that he knew not what to do, and approaching the earl again said, “Sir, I entreat your pardon; forgive me your death.” He then struck him a violent blow on the shoulder, which felled him to the ground. Huntington sprang up again, and said, “Alas, man, why do you treat me thus? For God’s sake kill me more easily.” The esquire then struck him eight times on the shoulder, being so terrified that he could not aim his blows at the neck. Another blow followed, which fell on the neck, when the wretched nobleman, suffering pain and agony from his cruel treatment, cried out, “Alas, dear friend, have pity upon me, and free me from my pain.” The executioner then seized a knife, and cut the Earl’s throat, separating his head from the body.

The Glyndwr or Glendower insurrection arose about this period, and the town of Oswestry greatly suffered from it. Owain Glyndwr was descended on the mother’s side from Llywelyn, the last sovereign Prince of Wales, his father, Grufydd Vychan, having married Helen, a grand-daughter of that puissant chieftain. He studied the law at one of the Inns of Court in London, and finally was admitted as a barrister. He may have quitted his profession, for we find he was appointed an esquire to Richard II., to whom he was devotedly attached, and whose fortunes he followed even to Flint Castle, and till his royal master’s household was dissolved. He had been knighted by King Richard, and was married early in life to Margaret, daughter to Sir David Hanmer, of Hanmer, in Flintshire, one of the Justices of the Court of the King’s Bench. His resentment against Henry IV. was strong and implacable. He had suffered deep private wrongs from the usurpation of the king, and burned with indignation to avenge himself.

Owain Glyndwr’s sudden appearance as a military leader of his countrymen roused their ancient martial spirit, and thousands flocked to his standard. In the year 1400 the town of Oswestry was burned, the Welsh having attacked it; and in 1403 Owain Glyndwr assembled his forces in the town, that he might join Lord Percy (surnamed Henry Hotspur) against the king. The Welsh leader dispatched to the “tented field” his first division only, amounting to 4000 men, whose prowess was distinguished on the day of battle. The great body of his troops, about 12,000 in number, did not approach nearer than Oswestry, they having been detained at the siege of Kidweli Castle. It is thought by some writers, that Owain did not remain inactively at Oswestry. Gough, the historian, mentions, that about two miles from Shrewsbury, where the Pool road diverges from that leading to Oswestry, “there stands an ancient decayed Oak Tree, of which there is a tradition, that Glyndwr ascended it to reconnoitre; but finding that the king was in great force, and that the Earl of Northumberland had not joined his son, he fell back to Oswestry, and immediately afterwards retreated into Wales.”

In the “_Beauties of England and Wales_,” the Shropshire history edited by Mr. Rylance, we find the following passage on Glyndwr’s alledged abandonment of Hotspur “at his utmost need:”—

“The army of Glyndwr, amounting to twelve thousand men, had remained
inactive at Oswestry during the battle. There is a tradition that he
himself quitted that place in disguise, and hastening to Shrewsbury,
hid himself in a gigantic oak, which commanded a full view of the
field; and that after witnessing the discomfiture of his friends,
returning with speed to Oswestry, he withdrew his forces into Wales,
whither he was pursued by Prince Henry.”

Hulbert, too, in his “_History of the Town and County of Salop_,” referring to the famous battle, says, “Owain Glyndwr _beheld_ the battle of Shrewsbury, instead of _sustaining_, by his arms, the cause of his ally, the gallant and intrepid Hotspur.” Another writer on this memorable event declares, that had Glyndwr brought up his reserved troops when Hotspur by his impetuous onslaughts was within an ace of victory, or when the brave warrior was slain, the battle would have been won, and the royal forces entirely routed. Taking these allegements to be truths, Glyndwr perpetrated a baseness which all faithful men must condemn.

Many writers have taken pains to solve the question, “Did Owain Glyndwr act merely as an idle spectator at the battle of Shrewsbury; or did he actually lead his _corps de reserve_ to Shelton, to aid the gallant Hotspur?” No author that we have read has settled that doubtful inquiry. Owain’s hatred of Henry, and his ardent efforts to give freedom to his countrymen, with his chivalrous bearing in the rebellion he had created, would suggest no evidence that Glyndwr was pusillanimous; and yet history furnishes alleged facts strongly reflecting upon his heroic spirit, and almost charging him with craven cowardice. To conclude that Glyndwr was actuated by base and unmanly curiosity in perching himself upon a branch of the Shelton Oak would be to brand his name with infamy; and yet, if he were espying the battle from that famous tree, his troops being close in reserve, but not in action, an accusation no less severe must ever rest upon his character as a chieftain and a man. On this interesting subject, which will always engage the attention of historical readers, a poet of bright fancy and manly sentiment—Dovaston of Westfelton—has given sarcastic expression to an opinion, in a Miltonic sonnet on the Shelton Oak, that Owain Glyndwr, at the battle of Shrewsbury, was a traitor to gallantry and faith:—

“Tradition says, and why not trust Tradition,
When many a haunt breathes, hallowed by her song,
From this Great Oak, backed by twelve thousand men,
Wrung at their country’s wrongs and murdered king,
Glyndwr, the wise, the bountiful, the brave,
_Beheld young Percy fall_: and conquest crown
The perjured Bolingbroke.—‘Bright youth, he cried,
Thy spur is cold. One thoughtless act hath lost
An Empire’s tide. Mark what the great have said—
‘The better part of valour is discretion,’
For safe on prudence every good attends.”

“The Battle of Shrewsbury” is not only “clad,” as the same poet fancifully describes, “in cold-hearted History’s homely weeds,” but “garlanded with Avon’s dewy flowers.” The conflict is part of the history of this district; and the narrative we subjoin, from the able pens of the historians of Shrewsbury, will attract the attention of all who value “pure English, undefiled:”—

“Of the famous and severely-contested battle which ensued under the
walls of our town, the awful prelude to so many more between the
rival houses, through the remainder of the century, we have five
contemporary and perhaps independent narratives; but one of them is a
mass of errors, and another extremely succinct, and of the others
only one is circumstantial: nor is any of them sufficient to satisfy
the minute curiosity of the local historian: but the best account
that can be drawn from a comparison of the whole, supplied in some
instances by a consideration of the ground, and in a few others by
modest conjecture, shall be laid before the reader as the conclusion
of the present chapter.

“We are unable to trace the progress of Hotspur’s long march from the
North to Shrewsbury, a journey of not less than 250 miles. He
probably set out in the beginning of July; and skirting along the
eastern side of Cheshire, where his army received a considerable
augmentation, passed through Stafford, and was joined there by his
uncle the earl of Worcester. The king, aware of his intention to
gain possession of Shrewsbury, and desirous of cutting off his
junction with Glendower, pursued him with hasty marches. We find his
majesty on the 16th of July at Burton-upon-Trent, and on the 17th at
Lichfield: whence, finding that he could not overtake his enemy, he
hastened on to reach Shrewsbury before him. He would naturally take
the Watling Street road, and enter this town over the Abbey Bridge.
The route of Hotspur was more to the north, in order to keep up a
communication with the Severn, so important for his junction with
Glendower. In all probability he marched through Newport, by High
Ercall and Haghmond Hill; and hoped to gain admittance through the
North or Castle Gate. The king arrived just in time to save the
town: he entered it only a few hours before Hotspur, who reached the
Castle Foregate on the evening of Friday, July 19th, and the king’s
forces could not have advanced from Lichfield before the morning of
that day. They were certainly here before Percy: for, aware of the
intention of that young nobleman, and desirous to save the Castle
from his attack, they set fire to that extensive suburb, and marched
out of the Castle gates to offer him battle. Hotspur, unwilling to
bring his army into action at the close of a toilsome march, and
learning, from the royal banner which waved on the walls, that the
king was in possession of the town, called off his followers from the
attack, and retired to the Bull-field, an extensive common which
stretched from Upper Berwick to the East. He thus protected his rear
by the woody and impervious precipices extending to Leaton shelf, and
had the river not only on his side, but also, if it had not entirely
deserted its ancient channel under Cross-hill, (as there is reason to
believe it had not,) in his front also. This position enabled him
likewise to communicate readily over that stream by the ford of
Shelton with the forces of Glendower, when they should arrive, as he
hoped, on the opposite bank. Here he passed the night in council.
His army consisted of 14,000 chosen men, of whom a considerable part
were of the county of Chester, at that time eminent for its skill in
archery; but, if Hall is correct, the royal army was nearly double
that number; for he writes that above 40,000 men were assembled on
both parts, and every circumstance of the battle proves that the king
was at the head of a very superior force. His situation was,
however, by no means devoid of anxiety. He must have been conscious
how slender the title was which he possessed to the throne: and how
ill-disposed his peerage of the realm were to maintain him upon it.
From the Castle he might view, as the dawn arose, the plain which
stretched to the north glittering with hostile arms: while the
dreadful Glendower was believed to be in full march from Oswestry, to
join the rebels with his Welsh forces. But the difficulties of the
crisis only sufficed to call forth his energies and display his
talents.

“Henry was himself a distinguished warrior. In earlier life he had,
in company with his princely uncle the duke of Gloucester, travelled
into the north of Europe in quest of martial glory; and under the
banners of the renowned Teutonic order had made a glorious campaign
against the Pagans of Lithuania. He was still in the vigour of life,
being much under forty years of age, and an adversary every way
worthy of the gallant Percy; whom, relying upon the superiority of
his numbers, he determined, if possible, to force to an engagement,
before that nobleman should receive his reinforcements from Wales or
the north. By break of day, therefore, he dispatched, it is
probable, a strong force, under the nominal command, for it could be
no more, of the young prince, the future hero of Agincourt, but then
a youth of fourteen years, to come up with Hotspur at Berwick, if
possible. He himself, with the main body, appears to have marched
out on the Hadnall road, ready to proceed as occasion might demand,
either to the north of Cross Hill and Almond Pool, and close the
rebels between his two divisions; or else to advance further on upon
that road, where it branches off to Shawbury, with the view of
cutting off their retreat, if Hotspur, aware of his design, should
attempt to march to the east. It happened as the king anticipated.
Hotspur, on his advance, broke up in some disorder, and marched by
Harlescot and Abright Hussey to Hately-field, which stretches from
thence eastwards. Here, however, finding it impossible to avoid an
engagement, on account, as we may suppose, of the obstruction to his
retreat presented by the king’s movement above mentioned, he made his
stand in the rear of a field of peas nearly ripe; behind which he
stationed his army, and hoped thereby to deter the king from
advancing over a tract which must necessarily impede his operations.

“He then addressed his little army in a short harangue, of which
Walsingham has preserved the heads. ‘We must desist,’ said he, ‘from
any further attempt to retreat, and turn our arms on those that come
against us. Ye see the royal banner, nor is there time to seek a
passage even though we wished it. Stand, therefore, with steadfast
hearts: for this day shall either promote us all, if we conquer; or
deliver us from an usurper, if we fall: and it is better to die in
battle for the common wealth, than after battle by the sentence of
our foe:” and with this, to support the courage of his men by proving
his design to fight to the outrance, he dispatched two of his
esquires, Knayton and Salvayn, with that strange defiance, in which
he loads the king with the most horrid crimes. * * * *

“No one has informed us how the king received this furious manifesto.
He had something else to engage his attention. He proceeded to
marshal his forces, dividing them into two columns, or wedges. Of
one of these he took the command himself, and entrusted the other to
his son. The front rank of his own column was led on by his nephew
the young earl of Stafford, a soldier of conspicuous valour, on whom
he had that morning conferred the high office of constable of
England, recently enjoyed by the earl of Northumberland. Previous to
the final onset, the king, in compliance with the customs of
chivalry, bestowed the honour of knighthood on certain of his most
distinguished esquires. Hotspur, perceiving that an engagement was
unavoidable, called for his favourite sword. His attendants informed
him that it was left behind at Berwick, of which village it does not
appear that he had till then learned the name. At these words he
turned pale, and said, ‘I perceive that my plough is drawing to its
last furrow, for a wizard told me in Northumberland that I should
perish at Berwick: which I vainly interpreted of that town in the
North.’ His courage did not, however, yield to the impressions of
superstition; he rallied his spirits, and arranged his troops with
his usual ability: assigning their respective stations to his uncle
Worcester, the Scottish earl of Douglas, his recent captive at
Halidown, sir Richard Venables, baron of Kinderton, Hugh Brow, Hugh
Vernon, and others. His troops appear to have been chiefly stationed
on the north side of the spot now occupied by the church in a field
still called _the Hateleys_: on the east side of the church is a
field denominated _the King’s croft_, in which, it may be presumed,
were ranged those which the king commanded in person. These
positions exactly agree with the objects which we have assigned above
to the respective leaders; and lend, it is hoped, some confirmation
to the conjectural part of the preceding narration.

“While the hostile armies, drawn up in battle array facing each
other, waited, with mute expectation, the sound of the trumpet, the
dreadful signal for combat, two venerable divines, Thomas Prestbury,
lord abbot of Salop, and the clerk of the privy seal, advanced out of
the royal army, and proceeded towards that of Percy. The king,
desirous to spare the blood of his subjects, offered him and his
adherents pardon and peace, and redress of all grievances of which
they could justly complain. Hotspur was touched by these unexpected
overtures, made under circumstances of such numerical inequality, and
requested his uncle of Worcester to repair to the royal presence in
company of these holy men, and state the grounds on which he had
taken up arms. The king, we may suppose, was in his turn somewhat
softened by the sight of the earl, who had been so recently engaged
in the domestic office of governor to the prince of Wales; and a
recollection of the obligations he had received from the Percy family
might mix itself with his other reflections. It is certain that to
the remonstrances of Worcester, delivered in a fierce and haughty
tone, he listened with respect, and replied with a condescension
which, in the opinion of the spectators, was somewhat unbefitting the
royal dignity. A contemporary writer has preserved, though with a
mistake of the person, the dialogue supposed to have passed between
them. The king ‘counselled him to put himself on his grace.’ To
which the other replied, ‘I trust not in your grace.’—‘I pray God,’
rejoined the king, ‘that thou mayest have to answer for the blood
here to be shed this day, and not I. March on standard-bearer!’ and
the battle was set.—It is certain that the stern temper of Worcester
rejected all attempts at conciliation: he was conscious how deeply he
had been engaged in fomenting the quarrel; and, on his return to his
friends, he misrepresented the demeanour of Henry in such a manner to
his nephew, that the latter, with whatever reluctance, was compelled
to relinquish all hopes of accommodation. At length, therefore, much
of the day having been consumed in these fruitless negociations, both
parties flew to arms, and the air was rent with the war-cries of
‘_St. George_’ on one side, and ‘_Esperance Percy_’ on the other. In
the meanwhile, Glendower had advanced as far as Shelton on the
opposite bank of Severn, where he awaited the issue of the contest,
determined to proceed or retire according to its event. He is said,
by the constant tradition of the country, to have ascended there the
branches of a lofty oak, whose venerable trunk yet remains, for the
purpose of viewing the battle; at least of gaining, from personal
inspection, the earliest intelligence of its event.