Henry of Monmouth, Volume 1

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A curious legal document, of a date later by five years than the
circumstance to which it refers, informs us that the King, when
enumerating in his commission to Lord Powis the partisans of Owyn, in
addition to the auxiliaries of Scotland and France, might have
mentioned the malcontents also of England. Owyn's British supporters,
even at so late a period of his rebellion, were not confined to the
Principality, but were found in other parts of the kingdom. In Trinity
Term, 2 Henry V. (1414,) a presentation is found, recording this curious
fact: "John, Lord Talbot,[235] (the Lord Furnivale,) was on his road
towards Caernarvon, there to abide, and resist the malice of (p. 242)
Owyn Glyndowr and other rebels in the parts of Wales. Accompanied by
sixty men-at-arms and seven score archers, he was hastening onward
with all possible speed, in need of victuals, arms, and other necessaries,
intending to pass through Shrewsbury, and there to buy them. On the
Monday before the Nativity of John the Baptist, (17th June,) in the
tenth year of the late King, (1409,) one John Weole, constable of the
town and castle, and Richard Laken of Laken, in the same county, Esquire,
and others, with very many malefactors, of premeditated malice closed
the gates against them, and guarded them, and would not suffer any of
the King's lieges to come out and assist them. By which Lord Furnivale
and his men were much impeded, and many of the King's commands
remained unexecuted."[236]

[Footnote 235: Some documents by mistake represent
Lord Talbot and the Lord Furnivale as two distinct
individuals.]

[Footnote 236: MS. Donat. 4599.]

Of the rebellion in Wales, however, very few circumstances are recorded
after Henry of Monmouth had ceased to resist the rebels in person: the
war gradually dwindled, and sunk at last into insignificance. A few
embers of the conflagration still remained unquenched, and called for
the watchfulness of government; but the flames had been so far
subdued, that all sense of danger to the general peace of the realm
had been removed from the people of England. No precise date can be
assigned to the last show of resistance on the part of Owyn or his
followers. It must have been, at all events, later than our (p. 243)
historians have generally supposed. About Christmas 1411 a free pardon
was granted for all treasons and crimes, with an exception from the
King's grace of Owyn Glyndowr himself, and one Thomas Trumpyngton, who
seems to have made himself very obnoxious to the government. In the
same year payment was made of various sums to defray the expenses of
the late siege of Harlech, the successful issue of which the record
ascribes, to the favour of God. In 1412 the King's licence was given
to John Tiptoft, seneschal, and William Boteler, receiver of Brecknock,
to negociate with Owyn for the ransom of David Gamne, the gallant
Welshman who afterwards fell at the battle of Agincourt. The licence
was granted at the suit of Llewellin ap Howell, David Gamne's father,
and authorised the parties to offer in exchange any Welshmen whom they
could take prisoners. In the same year, about Midsummer, the Pell
Rolls, recording a large sum paid to the Prince for the safeguard of
Wales, at the same time acquaint us with the waning state of the
insurrection; for the money was to enable the Prince to resist the
rebels "now seldom rising in arms."[237] The same expression occurs in
the following December.

[Footnote 237: "Jam raro insurgentium."]

Still, though their rising was even then rare, yet as late as February
19, 1414, payment is registered of a sum "to a certain Welshman coming
to London, and continuing there, to give information concerning (p. 244)
the proceedings and designs of Ewain Glendowrdy."

We gladly bring to a close these references to the last days of the
dying rebellion in Wales, by recording an act of grace on the part of
Henry of Monmouth.[238] It was after he had returned from his victory
at Agincourt, and when, notwithstanding the immense drain of men and
money in his campaign in Normandy, he could doubtless have extirpated
the whole remnant of the rebels, had he delighted in vengeance rather
than in mercy, that he commissioned Sir Gilbert Talbot to "communicate
and treat with Meredith ap Owyn, son of Owyn de Glendowrdy; and as
well the said Owyn, as other our rebels, to admit and receive into
their allegiance, if they seek it." Probably the stubborn heart of
Owyn scorned to sue for pardon, and to share the King's grace.

[Footnote 238: 24th February 1416.]

* * * * *

Of the last years of Owyn Glyndowr history furnishes us with very
scanty information. It is certain that he never fell into the hands of
his enemies: it is probable that, after having been compelled at
length to withdraw from the hopeless struggle in which he had persevered
with indomitable courage, he passed away in concealment his few
remaining years of disappointment and sorrow. Tradition ventures to
hint that friends in Herefordshire threw the shelter of their
hospitality over him in his days of distress and desolation. But (p. 245)
history returns no satisfactory answer to our inquiries whether he was
blessed with the consolations of religion in his calamity; nor whether,
to lighten the dreadful vicissitudes of his eventful life, he was cheered
at the close of his sorrow by any whom he loved. His reverses brought
with them no ordinary degree of suffering. In the very opening of the
rebellion his houses were burnt, and his lands were confiscated. His
brother fell in one of the earliest engagements on the borders. In the
course of the struggle,[239] his wife and his children, sons and
daughters, were carried away captive, and retained as prisoners. His
friends were gone; many had fallen on the field of battle; many had
died under the hand of the executioner; many had provided for their
own safety by deserting him. Every act of grace and pardon, though it
embraced almost all besides, made an exception of his name; till (p. 246)
the above offer of mercy from Henry of Monmouth included Owyn himself.
His sufferings were enough in number and intenseness to satisfy the
vengeance of any one who was not athirst for blood.

[Footnote 239: This is a fact, as the Author
believes, new in history; which, however, is placed
beyond all doubt by the Issue Rolls of the Pell
Office. 1 Henry V. 27th June, money is paid to John
Weele for the expenses of the wife of Owen
Glendourdi, of the wife of Edmund Mortimer, and of
others, their sons and daughters: "et aliorum
filiorum et filiarum suarum." On the 21st of March,
also 1411, Lord Grey of Codnor is authorised, as we
have already stated, by warrant to deliver Gryffuth
ap Owyn Glyndourdy, (that is, Owyn's son Griffith,)
and Owyn ap Griffith ap Rycard, to the constable of
the Tower, till further orders.--MS. Donat. 4599.

This son, however, of Owyn had been a prisoner for
a long time before the date of this warrant. Lord
Grey had payment made for the expenses of Griffin,
son of Owyn Glyndowr, as early as June 1,
1407.--Pell Rolls.]

In estimating the character of this extraordinary man, we must
remember that almost the whole evidence which we have of him has been
derived through the medium of his enemies; in the next place, we must
not allow circumstances over which he had no control to darken his
fame; nor must our zeal in condemning the rebel, bury in oblivion the
patriot, though mistaken; or the hero, though unsuccessful.

Especially, then, must it be borne in mind, that not Henry Bolinbroke,
but Richard II. was the sovereign to whom Glyndowr[240] had owed and
had originally sworn allegiance; that he had been especially and
confidentially employed in that unhappy monarch's immediate service;
that he was one of the very few who remained faithful to him, and
accompanied him through perils and trials to the last; and that he
left him only when Richard's misfortunes prohibited his friends from
giving him any longer assistance or comfort. We must remember also,
that, even had his master Richard been deposed or dead, it was not
Henry Bolinbroke, but the Earl of March, whom the laws of the (p. 247)
country had taught him to regard as his liege lord. We cannot, indeed,
in honesty assign to Glyndowr the crown of martyrdom won in his country's
cause; we cannot justly ascribe his career exclusively to pure
patriotism: there is too much of self[241] mingled in his character to
justify us in enrolling him among the devoted friends of freedom, and
the disinterested enemies of tyranny. He was driven into rebellion by
the sense of individual injury and insult rather than of his country's
wrongs; and he too eagerly assumed to himself the honours, authority,
and power, as well as the title of sovereign of his native land. But
he was not one of those heartless ringleaders of confusion,--he was
not one of those desperate rebels with whom the English too harshly
and too rashly have been wont to number him. He possessed many qualities
of the hero, deserving a better cause and a better fate. It is
impossible not to admire his unconquerable courage, his endurance of
hardships, his faculty of making the very best of the means within his
reach, and his unshrinking perseverance as long as there remained to
him one ray of hope or one particle of strength. The guilt of violated
faith, though laid to his charge, has never been established. He has
been, moreover, often accused of cruelty, and of engaging in savage
warfare; but even his enemies and conquerors, by their actions (p. 248)
and by their despatches, prove, that though Owyn slew, and burnt, and
laid waste far and wide, yet in all this he executed only the law of
retaliation, dreadful as that law is both in its principle and in its
consequences.

[Footnote 240: It does not appear, whether Owyn had
ever sworn allegiance to Henry IV.]

[Footnote 241: Pennant says he caused himself, in
1402, to be acknowledged Prince of Wales by his
countrymen, and to be crowned also.]

Owyn Glyndowr failed, and he was denounced as a rebel and a traitor.
But had the issue of the "sorry fight" of Shrewsbury been otherwise
than it was; had Hotspur so devised, and digested, and matured his
plan of operations, as to have enabled Owyn with his forces to join
heart and hand in that hard-fought field; had Bolinbroke and his son[242]
fallen on that fatal day;--instead of lingering among his native mountains
as a fugitive and a branded felon; bereft of his lands, his friends,
his children and his wife; waiting only for the blow of death to
terminate his earthly sufferings, and, when that blow fell, leaving no
memorial[243] behind him to mark either the time or the place of (p. 249)
his release,--Owyn Glyndowr might have been recognised even by England,
as he actually had been by France, in the character of an independent
sovereign; and his people might have celebrated his name as the
avenger of his country's wrongs, the scourge of her oppressors, and
the restorer of her independence. The anticipations of his own bard,
Gryffydd Llydd, might have been amply realized.[244]

[Footnote 242: How beautifully does the poet
express this same thought in the words of Harry
Percy's widow:

"Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,
To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,
Have talked of Monmouth's grave."
Second Part of HENRY IV. act ii.

This lady, Elizabeth Percy, had probably either
said or done something to excite the suspicion of
the King; for he issued a warrant for her
apprehension on the 8th of October, after the
battle of Shrewsbury.]

[Footnote 243: The Welsh historians tell of various
traditions relating both to the place and the time
of his death, adding many a romantic tale of his
wanderings among the mountains, and in caves and
dens of the earth. But, unable to trace any grounds
of preference for one tradition above another, the
Author of these Memoirs leaves the question (in
itself of no great importance), without expressing
any opinion beyond what he has offered in the text.
He must, however, add, that the traditions of his
having passed many of his last days at the houses
of Scudamore and Monnington, of his having been
some time concealed in a cavern called to this day
Owyn's Cave, on the coast of Merioneth, and of his
having been buried in Monnington churchyard, are by
no means improbable. The story of his corpse
resting under a stone in the churchyard of Bangor
is evidently a mistake; whilst the legend which
would identify him with John of Kent seems
altogether fabulous.]

[Footnote 244: The Author takes the translation
from the Appendix to Williams' Monmouthshire.]

Strike then your harps, ye Cambrian bards!
The song of triumph best rewards
An hero's toils. Let Henry weep
His warriors wrapt in everlasting sleep:
Success and victory are thine,
Owain Glyndurdwy divine!
Dominion, honour, pleasure, praise,
Attend upon thy vigorous days.
And, when thy evening's sun is set,
May grateful Cambria ne'er forget
Thy noon-tide blaze; but on thy tomb
Never-fading laurels bloom.

By the obliging kindness of Sir Henry Ellis, the Author is enabled (p. 250)
to enrich his work by authentic representations of the Great and Privy
Seals of Owyn Glyndowr as Prince of Wales; he borrows at the same time
the clear and scientific description of them, with which that antiquary
furnished the Archaeologia.[245] The originals are appended to two
instruments preserved in the Hotel Soubise at Paris, both dated in the
year 1404, and believed to relate to the furnishing of the troops
which were then supplied to Owyn by the King of France.

[Footnote 245: Vol. xxv.]

"On the obverse of the Great Seal, Owyn is represented with a bifid
beard, very similar to Richard II, seated under a canopy of Gothic
tracery; the half-body of a wolf forming the arms of his chair on each
side; the back-ground is ornamented with a mantle semee of lions, held
up by angels. At his feet are two lions. A sceptre is in his right hand;
but he has no crown. The inscription, OWENUS ... PRINCEPS WALLIAE. On the
reverse Owyn is represented on horseback in armour: in his right hand,
which is extended, he holds a sword; and with his left, his shield
charged with four lions rampant: a drapery, probably a _kerchief de
plesaunce_, or handkerchief won at a tournament, pendent from the right
wrist. Lions rampant also appear upon the mantle of the horse. On his
helmet, as well as on his horse's head, is the Welsh dragon. The area of
the seal is diapered with roses. The inscription on this side (p. 251)
seems to fill the gap upon the obverse, OWENUS DEI GRATIA ... WALLIAE.

The Privy Seal represents the four lions rampant, towards the spectator's
left, on a shield, surmounted by an open coronet; the dragon of Wales
as a supporter on the dexter side, on the sinister a lion. The
inscription seems to have been SIGILLUM OWENI PRINCIPIS WALLIAE.

No impression of this seal is probably now to be found either in Wales
or England. Its workmanship shows that Owyn Glyndowr possessed a taste
for art far beyond the types of the seals of his predecessors."

[Illustration: Seal]

CHAPTER XII. (p. 252)

REPUTED DIFFERENCES BETWEEN HENRY AND HIS FATHER EXAMINED. -- HE IS
MADE CAPTAIN OF CALAIS. -- HIS RESIDENCE AT COLDHARBOUR. -- PRESIDES
AT THE COUNCIL-BOARD. -- CORDIALITY STILL VISIBLE BETWEEN HIM AND HIS
FATHER. -- AFFRAY IN EAST-CHEAP. -- NO MENTION OF HENRY'S PRESENCE. --
PROJECTED MARRIAGE BETWEEN HENRY AND A DAUGHTER OF BURGUNDY. -- CHARGE
AGAINST HENRY FOR ACTING IN OPPOSITION TO HIS FATHER IN THE QUARREL OF
THE DUKES OF BURGUNDY AND ORLEANS UNFOUNDED.

1409-1412.

Henry of Monmouth, whose years, from the earliest opening of youth to
the entrance of manhood, had chiefly been occupied within the precincts
of his own Principality in quelling the spirit of rebellion which had
burst forth there with great fury, and had been protracted with a
vitality almost incredible, is from this date to be viewed and examined
under a totally different combination of circumstances. Early in the
year 1409 he was appointed Warden of the Cinque Ports and Constable of
Dover for life, with a salary of 300_l._ a year. Thomas Erpyngham,
"the King's beloved and faithful knight," who held those offices (p. 253)
by patent, having resigned them in favour of the King's "very dear
son."[246] He was made on the 18th of March 1410, Captain of Calais,
by writ of privy seal; and he was constituted also President of the
King's Council.

[Footnote 246: MS. Donat. 4599.]

The character of Henry having been assailed, not only in times distant
from our own, but by writers also of the present age, on the ground of
his having behaved towards his father with unkindness and cruelty
after the date of his appointment to these offices, it becomes necessary,
in order to ascertain the reality of the charge and its extent, as
well as the time to which his change of behaviour is to be referred,
to trace his footsteps in all his personal transactions with his
father, and in the management of the public affairs of the realm, more
narrowly than it might otherwise have been necessary or interesting
for us to do. Every incidental circumstance which can throw any light
on this uncertain and perplexing page of his history becomes invested
with an interest beyond its own intrinsic importance, just as in a
judicial investigation, where the animus of any party bears upon the
question at issue, the most minute and trifling particular will often
give a clue, whilst broad and striking events may not assist in
relieving the judge from any portion of his doubts. On this principle
the following facts are inserted here. They may perhaps appear too (p. 254)
disjointed for a continuous narrative; and they are cited only as
separate links which might form a chain of evidence all bearing upon
the question as to Henry's position from this time with his father.

Early in the year 1409, the King, in a letter to the Pope, when speaking
of the Cardinal of Bourdeaux says, "He came into the presence of us
and of our first-born son, the Prince of Wales, and others, our prelates."
At this period we are informed by the dry details of the royal
exchequer, that the King was anxiously bent on the marriage of his
son. To Sir William Bourchier payment is made, (17th May 1409,) on
account of a voyage to Denmark and Norway, to treat with Isabella,
Queen of Denmark, for a marriage between the Lord Henry, Prince of
Wales, and the daughter of Philippa of Denmark; and on the 23rd of the
same month[247] a payment is made to "Hugh Mortimer, Esq., lately
twice sent by the King's command to France, to enter into a contract
of marriage between the Prince and the second daughter of the King's
adversary, the King of France." In the August of 1409 the council
assembled at Westminster, resolved, with regard to Ireland, that,
should it be agreeable to the King and the Lord Thomas, it would be
expedient for Lord John Stanley to be appointed Lieutenant, he paying
a stipulated sum every year to the Lord Thomas. Before the council
broke up, the Prince, who presided, undertook to speak on this (p. 255)
subject, as well to the King his father, as to his brother the Lord
Thomas. At this time it would appear that, so far from any coldness,
and jealousies, and suspicions existing between the Prince and the
members of his family, he was deemed the most fit person to negociate
an affair of much delicacy between the council and his father and his
brother.

[Footnote 247: The payments prove nothing as to the
dates of the debts incurred.]

On the 31st of January 1410, the King, in the palace of Lambeth,
"delivered the great seals to Thomas Beaufort, his brother, in the
presence of the Archbishop, Henry of York, and my lord the
Prince."[248] On the 5th of March following, the King's warrant was
signed for the burning of John Badley. The Prince's conduct on that
occasion, which has been strangely misrepresented, but which seems at
all events to testify to the kindness of his disposition, and his
anxiety to save a fellow-creature from suffering, is examined at some
length in another part of this work, where his character is
investigated with reference to the sweeping charge brought against him
of being a religious persecutor. On the 18th of that month, when he
was appointed Captain of Calais, his father at the same time made him
a present for life of his house called Coldharbour. It must be here
observed that the disagreement which evidently arose and (p. 256)
continued for some time between the King and the Commons, though the
Prince was compelled to take a part in it, seems not to have shaken
the King's confidence in him, nor to have alienated his affections
from him at all. On the 23rd of March the Commons require the King to
appoint a council; and on Friday, the 2nd of May following, they ask
the King to inform them of the names of his council: on which occasion
this remarkable circumstance occurred.[249] The King replied that many
had been excused; that the others were the Prince, the Bishops of
Worcester, Durham, and Bath, Lords Arundel, Westmoreland, and Burnell.
The Prince then, in the name of all, prayed to be excused, if there
would not be found money sufficient to defray the necessary charges;
and, should nothing adequate be granted, then that they should at the
end of the parliament be discharged from all expenses incurred by
them. Upon this they resolved that the Prince should not be sworn as a
member of the council, because of the high dignity of his honourable
person. The other members were sworn. It is to this stipulation of the
Prince that the King refers at the close of the parliament in 1411,
when, after the Commons had prayed the King to thank the Prince and
council, he says, "I am persuaded they would have done more had they
had more ample means, as my lord the Prince declared when they were
appointed."

[Footnote 248: These insulated facts may be thought
to prove little of themselves; but they throw light
(it is presumed) both on Henry of Monmouth's
occupations, through these years of his life, and
especially on the point of any rupture existing
between himself and the King his father.]

[Footnote 249: Parl. Rolls, 1410.]

It has often been a subject of wonder what should have brought (p. 257)
the Prince and his brother so often into East-Cheap; and the story of
the Boar's Head in Shakspeare has long associated in our minds Henry
Prince of Wales with a low and vulgar part of London, in which he
could have had no engagement worthy of his station, and to which,
therefore, he must have resorted only for the purposes of riot and
revelry with his unworthy and dissolute companions. History records
nothing of the Prince derogatory to his princely and Christian
character during his residence in Coldharbour; it does indeed charge
two of the King's sons with a riot there, but they are stated by name
to be Thomas and John. Henry's name does not occur at all in connexion
with any disturbance or misdoing. The fact, however, (not generally
known,) of Henry having his own house, the gift of his father, in the
heart of London, near East-Cheap, (the scene indeed of Shakspeare's
poetical romance, but really the frequent place of meeting for the
King's council whilst Henry was their president,) might seem to call
for a few words as to the locality of Coldharbour and its circumstances.
The grant by his father of this mansion, dated Westminster, March
18th, 1410, is couched in these words: "Know ye, that, of our especial
grace, we have granted to our dearest son, Henry Prince of Wales, a
certain hostel or place called Coldharbour, in our city of London,
with its appurtenances, to hold for the term of his life, without (p. 258)
any payment to us for the same."[250] These premises, we learn, came
into Henry IV.'s possession by the right of his wife. Stowe, who
supplies the materials from which we safely make that inference, does
not seem to have been aware that it was ever in the possession of
either that King or his son. He tells us it was bought in the 8th of
Edward III. by John Poultney, who was four times mayor, and who lived
there when it was called Poultney Inn. But, thirteen years afterward
(21 Edward III.), he, by charter, gave and confirmed it to Humfrey de
Bohun, Earl of Hereford and Essex, as "his whole tenement called
Coldharbour, with all the tenements and key adjoining, on the way
called Haywharf Lane (All Saints ad foenum), for a rose at Midsummer,
if demanded. In 1397, John Holland, Earl of Huntingdon, lodged there;
and Richard II, his brother, dined with him. It was then counted a
right fair and stately house."[251]

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