Goronwy's end

Goronwy ap Heilyn is last seen at Llanberis, at the foot of Snowdon, on 2 May 1283. He was among the last cohort of supporters of Dafydd ap Gruffudd, who had assumed the title Prince of Wales after the death of his brother, Llywelyn, the previous December.

Sunset over Llanberis

Dafydd had wanted the crown all his life. Now it was finally in his grasp, in circumstances that resemble the last act of Macbeth. He had no soldiers left, no castles after the fall of Castell y Bere in April, and was reduced to hiding in the mountains issuing pointless charters to men who had already deserted him.

His final acts as prince occured on 2 May. On that day Gruffudd ap Maredudd, one of Dafydd’s remaining supporters, agreed to grant Cantref Penwedding to Rhys Fychan of Ceredigion. At the same time Dafydd empowered one of his officers, John son of David, to call out the men of Builth, Brecon, Maelienydd, Elfael, Gwerthyrnion and Kerry. The intention was to summon one last army and stage a final stand against the troops of Edward I as they poured into the mountain citadel.

Unknown to Dafydd, Rhys Fychan had surrendered to the king at Rhuddlan at the start of March. In exchange for his life, Rhys agreed to do military service at Aberystwyth for forty days for a fee of £16:

“Payment to Res ap Mailgun, admitted to the lord king’s wages, by order of lord W. de Valence, the lord bishop of St David’s and lord Robert Tybbetot, to guard the land of ‘Lanpader’ with 2 covered horses and 4 uncovered horses and 24 foot-soldiers, from 11 March until Monday 19 April, for 40 days, £16.”

Nobody answered Dafydd’s military summons, since the men of Maelienydd and elsewhere had already submitted to the king.

Goronwy was one of those who witnessed these two futile charters. He was killed shortly afterwards, probably in a skirmish during the final days of the invasion. All we know of his death is a brief note in the survey of the Honour of Denbigh, drawn up in 1334. This records that Goronwy ap Heilyn Sais had died ‘contra pacem’ - against the peace. The lands of his son, Madog, escheated to the crown, while another son, Llywelyn, was still in prison in 1316.

Seeking justice

A foot in both camps (6)

In November 1282, at Rhuddlan, the grievances of Welsh individuals and communities were laid before the king by Archbishop John Peckham. These can be found in the multi-volume printed version of his register. 

As ever, it is useful to compare and contrast. Goronwy ap Heilyn, the former bailiff of Rhos and royal justice, complained that he had gone to London three times to get justice against Reynold de Grey, and not obtained it. Part of his complaint translates as follows:

“But when he believed that he would have that justice, then came Reginald de Grey, who openly said that he was entitled to take the lands by the writ of the lord king, and then seized from the said Goronwy the whole bailiwick which the lord king granted to him, and sold it as he willed. Then the said Goronwy sought justice from the lord Reginald for these oft-stated grievances, but received none.”

The protest of the community of Rhos and Englefield gives a slightly different account of Goronwy’s behaviour:

“Since he did not dare to approach the court in person, he sent a messenger with two letters, one to the lord king, and the other to his brother Llywelin, to explain to the lord king that he might lose all his lands. And the said Goronwy, because he did not carry out what he had promised them, and since the men of Rhos and Englefield were unable to obtain any justice, and since he did not wish to correct or set right those grievances, on account of this lost all his lands.”

The ‘brother Llywelin’ mentioned here is Friar Llywelyn of Bangor, who had defected to the English after being captured at sea with Eleanor de Montfort in 1275. According to the above, Goronwy was too afraid of Grey to approach the court, so he tried to get letters to the king instead. However, the men of Rhos and Englefield then accused Goronwy of failing to deliver on his promises, and even that he ‘did not wish’ to protect them.

Thanks to Rich Price for the translations.

An utter thug

The war of Reynold de Grey (2)

Lord Reynold de Grey, who made himself so hated in North Wales, was an equal-opportunities oppressor. Apart from abusing the communities of Rhos and Englefield, he also found time to wage war on his fellow Marcher lords.

In the mid-1270s the castle of Ewloe (second pic) built by the princes of Gwynedd, passed into the hands of Robert de Monthaut. After his death the land and tenements passed to his widow, Joan. She enjoyed them for four years until Grey threw her out and seized the manor for himself. When her son Roger came of age, he tried to sue Grey in court, but died while the case was in progress. Grey held onto Ewloe until his death, and it was finally restored to the Monthauts by Queen Isabella in 1327.

Lord Grey was an utter thug, whose aim in life was to steal as much land as possible and kill anyone who tried to stop him. He actually said as much to Earl Warenne, when the two came to blows in 1287. He was also a brilliant military captain: born into a later age, he would have given Quantrill’s Raiders the fright of their lives. In 1267 Grey’s light cavalry slaughtered the March riders of Earl Gilbert de Clare outside London, and a couple of years later crushed an army of outlaws in the northern counties. His skill at guerilla warfare made him indispensable in Wales, and he was among the four big ‘batailles’ of English heavy cavalry at Falkirk. Such men were too useful to throw away.

Grey’s great-great grandson, Baron Grey of Ruthin, was the chap who triggered the revolt of Owain Glyn Dwr. The third pic is an illustration of the Grey arms, taken from The Grey Hours, a book of hours made for the family and dated c.1390.

King Caupens

Yesterday I forgot to post on the anniversary of the Battle of Roslin in 1303, so here’s another tidbit from the Wars of Independence.

In the spring of 1304, on his way to reduce the last patriot garrison at Stirling, Edward I was met at Findo Gask in Strathearn by a band of Scottish women. They came not to hurl jibes at the foul tyrant but serenade him. The entry for their payment, by the king’s gift, translates:

“To the seven women who met the king on the road between Gask and Uggelville, and who sang in his presence as they were accustomed to do in the time of Lord Alexander, late King of Scotland, this is as sent as the king’s own gift.”

Possibly the meeting was spontaneous, though a nasty suspicious person like me might see it as a clever bit of PR, cooked up by Edward’s advisers to project his takeover of Scotland as a natural progression from the days of Alexander III. There was, of course, no mention of John Balliol.

Edward was certainly fond of Scottish music, and employed two prominent Scottish musicians at his court. One was James de Cowpen, who first performed for the king at the wedding of his daughter, Princess Joan, to Gilbert de Clare in 1290. James was described as ‘King Caupenny of Scotia, who came to Westminster to the feast of the aforesaid nuptials’. He was paid the considerable sum of 50 shillings, by the king’s gift, for performing as ‘Rex Haraldorum’ or King of Heralds.

These heralds were officials at the court, responsible for organising jousts and tournaments and drawing up lists of knights for muster. They were also employed as messengers and spies. James de Cowpen appeared again at Edward’s court in 1296, after the deposition of John Balliol, and appears frequently in the accounts after that date. He received many gifts of favour from the king, including jewellery and a horse, and his name appears as Jakketus de Scotia, Monsire Capenny, Capigny, Capainy, Capini, Capin and Copyn.

In the last reference, dated 1307, he is “Roy de Copiny, harpour’. In 1306 James travelled north to Lanercost, where he played to the king to soothe the pain of Edward’s final illness. His last payment is dated 13 June 1307, at Carlisle, after which he vanishes. One of his descendants - or a copycat - played for James IV in 1503 under the name ‘Johne de Cowpanis’.

The second musician was Master Elyas, once the personal harper of Alexander III. Edward first heard Elyas play at Westminster in 1278 and awarded him 60 shillings. Elyas transferred his services to Edward after the death of Alexander in 1286, and was afterwards known as the King’s Harper or Master Elyas le Harpur. In 1296 he was granted lands in Perth and Fife, and was probably one of the five Scottish harpers who played for Edward in 1303 at Sandford near Largo Bay in Fife.

Ruthless justice

A foot in both camps (5)

On 14 November 1281 Reynold de Grey was appointed justice of Chester, with custody of the men of Chester and the two cantreds of Rhos and Englefield in northeast Wales. Grey’s appointment, more than any other, has been identified as the greatest single contributor to the war of 1282-3 in Wales. As a direct result of his actions, the men of North Wales regarded themselves as absolved from the oaths they had sworn to the English crown:

“Reynold de Grey, on an objective appraisal of the evidence which is available to us, must bear a grave responsibility for the resort to armed resistance in the spring of 1282.”

- J Beverley-Smith, Llywelyn ap Gruffudd: Prince of Wales

Yet, despite the importance of the evidence against Grey, nobody has ever translated it from the printed material in the register of Archbishop John Peckham. So it falls to yours truly and my friends, for which we will no doubt receive knighthoods.

One of those who protested against Grey was Goronwy ap Heilyn. He presented his own complaints before the king, while another set of complaints was presented on his behalf by the men of Rhos and Englefield. I’ve only just started looking at this material and will provide translations in future posts.

Grey’s first action was to remove Goronwy from his office as bailiff of Rhos, and his kinsman Cynfrig ap Goronwy as bailiff of Englefield. They were replaced by Grey’s officers, Welsh and English, each of whom was identified as agents of ‘ruthless justice’. The likes of Cynfrig Sais and Cynfrig Fychan would incur the wrath of Welsh communities no less than Hick Lemayn and Robert Crevequer.

Laws and wars

A foot in both camps (4)

On 4 December 1281, at Chester, a report was submitted to the king concerning the laws and customs of the Welsh. This was part of an ongoing survey, called the Hopton Commission, into the nature of the Welsh legal system and which laws and customs they ought to be governed by.

Goronwy ap Heilyn had been appointed as one of four Welshmen on the original seven-man commission in 1278. The personnel changed over the years, but Goronwy remained in favour and was re-appointed as a royal justice in the Marches.

The final report of the Hopton Commission takes up several pages in the Welsh Rolls. It is essentially a report of a long list of witnesses, Welsh and English, who were asked to describe their experience of native law and custom. The answers varied, sometimes depending on the attitude of the witnesses. One Welsh lord, for instance, remarked:

“Of the other articles he knows nothing, because he gives more attention to hunting than to the discussion of law.”

The responses of the cantref of Rhos in northeast Wales make for interesting reading. Goronwy was bailiff of Rhos, one of the first Welsh communities to rebel against Edward I only a few months later. This powder-keg situation is not evident in the report, in which one individual after another declared in favour of English common law over the law of Cyfraith Hywel (Hywel Dda).

Goronwy himself was key to promoting this attitude. One witness stated that the people of Rhos were well content with the new law, because their bailiff encouraged them. The ‘community of the country’ also desired common law over Cyfraith Hywel. This trend was repeated all over Wales, even among the princes: Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffudd himself, for instance, made use of the English law of dower on behalf of his sister, Margaret.

It was not, therefore, an issue of law that drove the North Welsh into revolt. For the real cause we must look to individuals in the royal administration of Wales. The chief culprit was Reynold de Grey, justice of Chester.

A mix of kings

A foot in both camps (3)

In December 1279 Goronwy ap Heilyn took an inquisition concerning the manor of Prestatyn in the Four Cantreds, northeast Wales. He presided alongside the Justice of Chester, Guncelin de Badlesmere, Cynrwig ap Gronw, bailiff of Rhuddlan, and the Archdeacon of St Asaph.

It was presented that Richard, once king of England, had possessed the manor by right of conquest and bequeathed it to Henry III, who in turn bequeathed it to Edward I. The ‘right of conquest’ was perfectly valid in law, which makes one wonder why anyone bothered to dress it up with claims of legitimacy and birth etc. This applied to William the Conqueror all the way down to Henry Tudor.

Owain Gwynedd

Sir Robert Banastre challenged the king’s right to Prestatyn on the basis that the aforesaid King Richard - presumably Richard the Lionheart - had granted the same manor to Robert’s grandfather, another Robert. Owain Gwynedd, then Prince of Wales, then violently ejected the grandfather and destroyed the town he built on the manor.

Several points of interest. One, Robert didn’t know his history, or pretended not to. His ancestors first came to Wales during the time of William the Conqueror, and his grandfather was granted Prestatyn by Henry II, not Richard I. Second, Owain Gwynedd died in 1170, nineteen years before Richard became king. In 1167 he destroyed the tower at Prestatyn built by Robert’s grandfather. Afterwards the Banastres fled into Lancashire, where they were granted lands by the Earl of Chester.

Despite getting his kings mixed up, it seems Robert’s plea was succesful. His granddaughter Anghard married Sir Henry Conwy of Richmond, Yorkshire, after which Prestatyn remained in the Conwy family for centuries. They became Welsh gentry and eventually married into Welsh royalty: Jenkyn Conwy, Robert’s descendent, married the daughter of Maredudd ap Hywel ap Dafydd, who was lineally descended from…Owain Gwynedd.

History is irony.

A position of trust

A foot in both camps (2)

On 4 January 1278 Goronwy ap Heilyn and two of his companions were permitted access to Eleanor de Montfort at Windsor Castle. Eleanor had been held in custody since 1275, when she and her brother Amaury were captured at sea by English privateers in the service of the king. She was on her way to marry Llywelyn ap Gruffudd, which the king interpreted as a dangerous renewal of the alliance between the Montfort family and the Prince of Wales.

Goronwy must have enjoyed a position of trust at the English court. This was further shown by the king’s order that Goronwy and Eleanor might talk ‘secretly or openly’, as they preferred. In the general spirit of detente, the king was happy to allow Goronwy to pass on whatever private messages he might be carrying from Llywelyn to Eleanor.

Six days later, 10 January, Goronwy was appointed as one of the justices to hear and determine all suits and pleas both of lands and trespasses and wrongs in the marches and in Wales. They were to do justice therein, according to the laws and customs of those parts of where the land lay, or in which trespasses and wrongs had been committed. Goronwy was one of four Welsh justices appointed to this seven-man commission: the others were Hywel ap Meurig, the Archdeacon of Cardigan and Rhys ap Gruffudd.

He continued to enjoy the confidence of the King of England and the Prince of Wales. In December 1278 he and the justice of Chester were ordered to carry out the business concering the restitution of corn in Anglesey. This was an interesting example of Welsh law, in which goods could be claimed by placing a cross on them. Only a justice or ‘ynaid’ could order the cross to be removed and the goods restored to their original owner.

This, therefore, was an important man and a skilled diplomat and lawyer; a familiar figure in the palaces and law courts of England and Wales. In 1281 he was made bailiff of Rhos in the Four Cantreds, placing Goronwy on the border between the new royal administration in Wales and the territory of Prince Llywelyn. It was not a safe place to be.

Serving two masters

A foot in both camps (1)

Goronwy ap Heilyn was the son of Heilyn Sais ap Cynfrig, a probable brother of Ednyfed Fychan, seneschal or ‘distain’ to Llywelyn the Great. The designation ‘Sais’ would indicate that Heilyn had English connections or sympathies, and was one of the growing number of the ministerial elite in Gwynedd with links to the English crown. At the same time Heilyn acted as an envoy for Llywelyn, held the office of rhaglaw (bailiff) and was important enough to appear as a witness on several princely charters.

Heilyn was in the service of the princes from the years 1222-41. His son Goronwy first appears in 1248, held as a hostage in England. Goronwy and his fellow prisoner, Rhodri ab Owain, were presumably held hostage to ensure the princes of Gwynedd held to the terms of the Treaty of Woodstock (1247). Goronwy vanishes from the record for the next 29 years, only to re-emerge in 1277 as one of the brokers of the Treaty of Aberconwy. He and his kinsman, Tudur ab Ednyfed, were granted powers by Prince Llywelyn to conclude peace with the English: along with a third party, Dafydd ab Einon, they swore “pro se et aliis de consilio” to ensure that Llywelyn surrendered hostages for his observance of the treaty.

For the last five years of his life, Goronwy would attempt to steer a middle course between the rival powers in Gwynedd and Westminster. His aim, to judge from his actions, was to try and bring about peace by serving two masters at once.

Llywelyn the Great

This involved shuttling back and forth as an envoy between Llywelyn and the king. In 1277-8, with the priors of Bangor and Rhuddlan, Goronwy made four trips to Snowdon and Anglesey on the king’s service. He also claimed expenses for journeys to negotiate with Llywelyn about his dispute with Gruffudd ap Gwenwynwyn, and on 12 September 1278 was granted a fee of £6 a year by the king.

Capetian wet dreams

Taken me a while to track this down. Attached (first pic) is an entry from the Chronicle of Bury St Edmunds, describing the treason of Thomas Turberville in 1295.

This was one of the great scandals of the age. Thomas, a former household knight, had defected to the French and offered to raise a great rebellion in Wales and Scotland against Edward I. This would coincide with a full-scale French invasion of England. Once the British Isles were conquered - just like that, easy peasy - the French king, Philip le Bel, would reward Thomas by making him Prince of Wales. Philip would now be Emperor of the West, the stuff of Capetian wet dreams.

In the event Thomas was captured, interrogated and executed at Smithfield. I don't know anything about his ancestry or whether he had some kind of blood claim to the crown of Wales. Presumably he did.

Thomas had a competitor for the title in the shape of Madog ap Llywelyn, fifth cousin of Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffudd. Both seem to have regarded the removal of the senior branch of the House of Aberffrau as a vital first step: Madog served in the king's army against Llywelyn in 1277 (second pic) and Thomas served in the invasion of Gwynedd in 1282 (third pic).

Dodgy Adolf

Along with Count Floris of Holland, another of Edward I’s dubious allies on the continent in 1297 was Adolf of Nassau, King of the Germans. This so-called Grand Alliance was a hilarious shambles, with everyone taking bribes and vigorously stabbing each other in the back. Great fun.

In February 1297 Adolf met with Count Henri of Bar and a group of Burgundian nobles at Koblenz. There they made plans to attack the French on Edward’s behalf when he landed in Flanders. Adolf solemnly promised that he would send German troops to aid the Burgundians before 22 July. He also promised to send assistance to Henri. In return for his services, Adolf was promised a fee of £60,000 by Edward, to be paid in three instalments.

On 4 June Henri invaded the county of Champagne, in an effort to distract the French and prevent the invasion of Flanders. When the French launched a counter-attack, Edward sent a message to Adolf pleading with him to march to Henri’s aid:

“Since our son, the count of Bar, has begun war against the King of France and, furthermore, given that none of our other allies are in this region, and because he is under greater attack by our enemies than any other, we pray and earnestly entreat your highness that you will it that the said count be given aid by those of your men who are nearest him and who can best act in such manner as may protect [him] against our common enemy; this until we are able to provide other assistance there.”

Adolf did nothing. He broke all his promises to Henri and the Burgundians and used Edward’s money to fund a private war in Germany. Over the summer he opened negotiations with the French: this was after taking £40,000 from the English. Edward has been criticised for not paying the final instalment of £20,000, which is difficult to understand. Why would he give any more cash to a man who had betrayed him?

The English king took his revenge. On 27 July 1298, a few weeks before the battle of Falkirk, Adolf met his enemy the Duke of Austria at Gollheim on the Upper Rhine. As he did at Evesham, Edward had sent a hit-squad to hunt down his enemy on the battlefield. This was a band of Welshmen, probably detached from the main army in Flanders. A French chronicle records Adolf’s fate:

“And though king [A]dolph bore himself boldly that day, in the end, however, a Welshman jumped onto his horse from behind and tried to cut his throat; when he was unable to do so, he dropped his weapons and threw him onto the ground; he [Adolph] was captured by the duke of Brabant. The duke of Austria also saw this and ordered him to be beheaded on the spot by one of his squires. And after huge carnage on either side, those on the king's side who could flee escaped.”

 - Chronographia Regum Francorum

 (The pic is an illustration of the death of King Adolf by Simon Meister, 1829)

The fens of Ely

The sons of Belial (3)

The Isle of Ely in the fenlands of Cambridgeshire is famous as the stronghold of Hereward the Wake, a folk-hero of English resistance to William the Conqueror. Hereward was real enough, even if his deeds were exaggerated, and the remains of his fortress were still visible in the thirteenth century.

The isle continued to be used as a haven for political rebels. It was occupied by the barons during the Anarchy of King Stephen’s reign, and again during the Monftortian civil wars at the end of Henry III’s reign. In the summer of 1267 the garrison was burnt out by local militia led by the Lord Edward, and scattered in all directions. One of them escaped to Paris, only to be hanged on the public gallows.

In July 1272, between the deaths of Richard of Cornwall and Henry III, sinister reports reached Westminster of a fresh attempt to occupy the isle. Orders hurriedly went out to the bishop of Ely, as well as all abbots and priors and tenants, to keep guard ‘night and day’ over the isle, since it was ‘one of the stronger refuges of the realm’ and could not be allowed to fall into rebel hands again.

Two years later, with the realm still in a nervous and uncertain state, there was yet another attempt to occupy Ely. This one seems to have been more determined, and it would be interesting to know who was attempting to re-establish a rebel headquarters on the isle at such a late stage. The regents were sufficiently concerned to order all boats to be sunk and for ‘watches and ambushes’ to be kept night and day against ‘malefactors and suspected persons’.

Civil war looms

The sons of Belial (2)

On 2 August 1273 an order went out to all the sheriffs in England, instructing them to conduct themselves so the king ‘would not have to punish them’. On the same day a separate message was sent out to all the king’s subjects in every county, warning them to be diligent in the pursuit of criminals.

There was no king in England, as such. Henry III was dead and his heir far away in the Holy Land, so these orders were sent out by the regency government. The need for a king to provide strong centralized authority was all too apparent. Without him the realm fell to pieces. To make things worse, the courts were suspected of doing little to prevent the crime wave sweeping over England. There was even a suspicion that sheriffs and bailiffs were colluding with the ‘malefactors’ who committed robberies, homicides and other enormities in every county.

The arms of Gilbert de Clare

It didn’t help when the great magnates of the realm, who were supposed to help the regents keep order, got involved in wrongdoing. Gilbert de Clare, the ‘red earl’ of Gloucester was particularly shameless in this regard. In early 1273 a private war erupted in Staffordshire between Prince Edmund of Lancaster and Robert de Ferrers, the disinherited Earl of Derby. On 17 February Edmund wrote to the chancellor, Walter Merton, pleading for military aid against Ferrers.

The arms of Robert de Ferrers

Clare chose this moment to stick his oar in. Two days later he sent a letter to Merton, expressing concern at the behaviour of Edmund and Ferrers. There could be no peace in the land, Clare warned, unless the great lords settled their differences. A noble sentiment. At the same time Clare was in secret talks with Ferrers, and in May they sealed a pact whereby Ferrers agreed to surrender his stake in Gloucestershire if Clare would help him recover his lands in Staffordshire. This amounted to a joint declaration of war against Edmund.

The other magnates now started taking sides. Reynold de Grey, Roger Mortimer and Henry Lacy declared for Edmund. Earl Warenne, James Audley and John Fitz John declared for Ferrers. Another civil war - the third in little more than a decade - loomed on the horizon.

Lies and hostility

The sons of Belial (1)

In March 1270 Archbishop Walter Giffard of York cited the dire state of the realm - “turbatio regni” - as the reason for his inability to visit the pope. In August of the same year, the ageing Henry III declared that his fears for the kingdom’s safety prevented him from accompanying his son, Edward, to the Holy Land.

There is plenty of evidence for the disturbed state of England. The chronicle of the sheriffs of London records a projected uprising by the commons, the “populares”, against the aldermen. This was supposed to coincide with the death of Henry III. Shortly before the king’s demise in November 1272, the prior of Norwich quarreled with the men of the city and summoned to his aid “a great multidude of malivoli who, when the kingdom was disturbed, had been thieves and malefactors”. From this it appears the prior hired ex-Montfortians, bands of old soldiers wandering the land with nothing better to do than cause mayhem.

The midlands and northern counties were especially afflicted by these “malivoli”, called the Sons of Belial or sons of wickedness by the London chronicler. In scripture Belial is a demon of lies and guilt, the king of hostility. In Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire, it was reported that nobody dared to travel the Great North Road because the counties were overrun by an army of outlaws. Their leader was Roger Godberd, a former tenant of Earl Ferrers who went back into revolt after his master was disinherited.

After Henry’s death, the regency government was especially fearful of old seats of rebellion. In August 1273 Walter Merton, the chancellor, spoke of bands of malivoli gathering together and conspiring to break the peace in Essex and Leicestershire. This was worrying since Leicestershire had been a Montfortian heartland; it was the county of the villagers of Great Peatling, who had attacked the king’s men after the battle of Evesham for “going against the commonalty of the realm and against the barons”. Here, if anywhere, trouble would arise.

Merton’s letter has survived (see third pic) but is virtually illegible even under ultraviolet.

Stitching things together

On 10 December 1276 Sir John Deyville paid 578 marks (roughly £400) to 'Peter Byset or to the abbot of St Mary's York', thus gaining the right to re-occupy his Yorkshire manor of Thornton-on-the-Hill on 20 September. This appears to have been the final redemption fine he owed to the queen, Eleanor of Provence, as the price for his rebellion in the previous decade.

This redemption fine is a quite striking parallel to an episode in the Geste of Robyn Hode, in which the outlaw entertains an impoverished military knight. Robyn takes pity on the knights and lends him the £400 he needs to redeem pledged lands from the abbot of St Mary's, York. Such a contract was unlikely after 1279, after which restrictions on lending were imposed on religious houses by the Statute of Mortmain.

In later versions of the legend the 'poor knyghte' acquires a name, Sir Richard Atte Lee or Sir Richard of the Lea. This was because two separate manuscripts, recording the deeds of Robin Hood, were literally stitched together to form a single narrative.

Double ditched

"There was there a fair castle,
A little within the wood;
Double-ditched it was about, And walléd, by the rood." 

- The Geste of Robyn Hode (mid-15th century)

This verse describes the castle of Sir Richard Atte Lee, who gives Robin Hood and his men sanctuary from the wicked High Sheriff of Nottingham. This tale was possibly inspired by Wellow or Jordan Castle near Rufford Abbey in the heart of Sherwood Forest. Wellow was a ringwork castle of the motte and bailey type, updated in 1252 with the addition of a fortified manor house on the motte. It was protected by a moat and the nearby village was surrounded by a ditch, so Wellow was 'double ditched', just like the ballad.

In 1272 Sir Richard Foliot, a former Montfortian-cum-royalist who could never quite make up his mind, was accused of harbouring outlaws on his estates. This was the band led by Roger Godberd, one of the legion of real-life Robin Hoods. Foliot probably sheltered them at Jordan, since it lay midway between his other manors at Fenwick and Grimston.

In the ballad Sir Richard Atte Lee takes the outlaws into his castle and proudly defies the sheriff to do his worst. In the real world Sir Richard Foliot went grovelling to Henry III, who rolled his eyes a bit and pardoned him. Godberd and the lads made themselves scarce.

Old and New

The hilltop castle-borough of Dinefwr in the Tywi valley, West Wales, was the ancestral seat of the ancient princes of Deheubarth. Rhys ap Maredudd, the last of these princes, was executed in 1291, but the old borough continued to exist. This was of Welsh origin and populated almost exclusively by Welsh tenants.

A new borough was planted on the old in about 1298. This was supposed to be an English colony, like others at Beaumaris and elsewhere, and at first the commercial privileges granted to the old Welsh cottagers were appropriated by English settlers. The number of settlers or burgesses was at first 35, subsequently increased to 44.

Unlike other towns in postconquest Wales, the old borough was not demolished. A complete set of rentals and surveys survive from the period, showing how the old and new boroughs co-existed. Certain Welsh families who continued to live in the old town had evidently been there for generations. For instance, in 1300 Griffith ab William and Howel ab William held six acres by the grant of Lord Rees or “Res Argluth” i.e. the Lord Rhys of Deheubarth, who died in 1197.

Some Welsh tradesmen moved from the old borough to the new. These were called “gable tenants”, apparently capitalizing on the availability of new burgage property. Everyone in Dinefwr at this time held their land and property of Edward of Caernarfon, referred to as “our lord the Prince.” The king had farmed out Wales to his son, along with the lordship of Chester, the county of Ponthieu and the duchy of Gascony. This was supposed to instil a sense of responsiblity in the future Edward II: some hope.

Part of a rental for the new town shows ten English burgesses living next door to seven Welsh. Given the climate of the time, the atmosphere in this mixed community must have been tense. A court roll for Dinefwr in 1300 lists various assaults and arguments in court, though it is difficult to tell if this was the result of Anglo-Welsh rivalry, or just the usual run of petty crime found in any township.

The end of the dragon

The Dragon of Chirk (6, and last)

In 1282 Llywelyn Fychan of Bromfield chose to join Prince Llywelyn ap Gruffudd in his final war against Edward I. Five years earlier the lord of Bromfield had fought for Edward against Llywelyn, probably because he was unhappy at the prince’s division of Powys Fadog and efforts to take direct control of the lordship. Now he returned to his former allegiance.

Shortly before he broke with the king, Llywelyn Fychan submitted a petition that listed his complains. This is a separate protest to the one in Archbishop Peckham’s register. Among other things, Llywelyn refused to accept the authority of the judges appointed by the king to enquire into the native law of Wales. One of these judges was Hywel ap Meurig, a royal justice and bailiff to the Mortimers of Wigmore. Llywelyn named Hywel as one of his enemies along with Gruffudd ap Gwenwynwyn, lord of southern Powys.

In the previous war of 1277, Hywel had led the men of Powys, Radnor and Builth against Prince Llywelyn and invaded southern Snowdonia on behalf of the king: attached (above) is the first membrane of the payroll for this army. He remained a crown loyalist and his sons rose to high office under Edward I and Edward II. Thus Wales was split between Prince Llywelyn and his supporters on the one hand, and crown loyalists such as Hywel and Gwenwynwyn on the other.

Llywelyn Fychan’s fate was to die with his prince near Cilmeri in December 1282, slaughtered along with all the cavalry and part of the infantry. He was probably slain by Andrew Astley, a Marcher lord who seems to have boasted of his exploit by taking Llywelyn’s arms, the lion of Powys Fadog, and adding it to the Astley cinquefoil. Sixteen years later Astley fought under these converted arms at the Battle of Falkirk.

The arms of Andrew Astley

And that was the end of the dragon of Chirk:

“Hail thou of great and high discretion,
From God the foremost leader of forces;
Prosperous elder of the excelling spear,
Inexorable is your wrath, thou wall in battle.”

- Llygad Gwr

Peckham's register

The Dragon of Chirk (5)

The printed register of John Peckham, Archbishop of Canterbury, contains all of the complaints submitted by Welsh lords and communities against royal government between 1277-82. It is an invaluable record of events leading up to the war of 1282 and the conquest of Wales. To gain any kind of proper understanding, each complaint needs to be considered on its own merits.

One such is the protest of Llywelyn Fychan of Bromfield. He was engaged in a private war against the men of Oswestry and Ellesmere, and at the same time at loggerheads with fellow Marcher lords. His principal enemies were Gruffudd ap Gwenwynwyn and the Lestranges of Knockin.

Llywelyn claimed the constable of Oswestry had plundered a third part of the vill of Lledrod, a township of Llansilin, and his father’s court, which lay nearby. They had also stolen his pastureland, along with £70 of Llywelyn’s money. The same constable allegedly hanged two of Llywelyn’s officers and imprisoned sixty others, only releasing them on a payment of 10 shillings per head. He also seized cattle when the beasts were brought to market and detained them at Oswestry castle, refusing to return or pay for them. The same constable stole pack-horses as well as Llywelyn’s own horse.

Worst of all (he claimed), Llywelyn himself, when on the road to Chester carrying letters from the king, had been ambushed and kidnapped by the soldiers of Gwenwynwyn and Roger Lestrange. He and his men were held in prison until they bought themselves out. This protest should be cross-referenced with a separate entry in the Welsh assize roll. The latter reveals that Llywelyn had sent his men to burnt the mill at Coedgoch and houses belonging to Isabella Mortimer and the men of Oswestry, to the value of £100. Or so they alleged. 

The truth of all this is impossible to sift, but it is clear that the situation in Wales was steadily darkening. Once again the Mortimers of Wigmore were at the heart of it.

[The first pic is of Peckham’s effigy]