Hawarden Wood (2)

The Battle of Hawarden Wood, 1157 (Two) Henry II obviously did not expect an easy time of it in north Wales: the knights he summoned were ordered to serve for ninety days, triple the usual length of feudal service. His chancellor, the ill-fated Thomas Becket, consulted a soothsayer and palm reader before agreeing to accompany the king.

The king split his army in two. The main body marched up the estuary route to attack Owain’s entrenched position, while a flanking force was sent up past Hawarden, Ewloe and Northop to attack Owain on the landward side (see my utterly wonderful map). This was probably a smaller force of mounted knights and included the retinues of Henry of Essex, Eustace Fitz John and Earl Roger Clare.

Owain had predicted the flank attack and placed two of his sons, Cynan and Dafydd, inside the woods of Hawarden with some young Welsh warriors or ‘juveniles’. The English were ambushed and a ‘hard battle’ ensued. Eustace was killed and the standard bearer, Henry of Essex, fled for his life. The Welsh chronicles generally give the impression that the English were routed and slaughtered as they fled back to the plain:

‘And against them came Dafydd ab Owain and he pursued them as far as the strand of Chester, slaughtering them murderously’.

This version of events does not tally with other sources, including the personal testimony of Henry of Essex; a very rare eyewitness account for a battle in this period. After the standard fell, Earl Roger Clare picked it up and rallied the army:

‘Earl Roger Clare, a man renowned in birth and more renowned for his deeds of arms, quickly ran forward with his men of Clare, and raised the standard of the lord king, which revived the strength and courage of the whole army’.

The English flanking force, though badly mauled, broke through the ambush into open country. Henry had thus succeeded in flanking Owain’s position, which forced the latter to abandon his trenches:

‘And when Owain heard that the king was coming against him from the rear side, and he saw the knights approaching from the other side, and with them a mighty host under arms, he left that place and retreated as far as the place that was called Cil Owain.’

Cil Owain is otherwise called Tal Llyn Pennant. Owain’s enemy, King Madog ap Maredudd of Powys, pursued the Venedotians and put his army between the king and Owain, ‘where he might have the first encounter’. The casualties suffered by both sides in the wood are implied by a curious tale reported by Gerald of Wales, who mourns a dead dog:

‘In the wood of Coleshill, a Welsh juvenile was killed when the said king’s army was advancing through; the greyhound who accompanied him did not desert his master’s corpse for eight days, though without food; but with a wonderful attachment lovingly defended it from the attacks of dogs, wolves and birds of prey. What son of his father what Nisus to Euryales, what Polynices to Tydeus, what Orestes to Pylades, would have shown such loving regard? Therefore, as a mark of approval to the dog, who was almost starved to death, the people of England, although hostile to the Welsh, ordered that the now stinking dog was buried with the kindness of human nature.’