The Greatest Traitor

by Ian Mortimer

  At this point questions were being raised in England about the loyalty of the Irish. On 10 July Edward had written to all the Irish lords, including Roger and a number of the Mortimer tenants in Ireland, asking for a confirmation of their loyalty to the English Crown. This was probably discussed in common among the lords in the Justiciar’s army, for many of the extant answers, all of which protest loyalty, are couched in similar language.24 Also it is noticeable that none of the replies is from Roger’s knights, and Roger himself sent no reply to the king. This may well signify that he personally took responsibility for the loyalty of his men, showing a great confidence in them.

  On 1 September Parliament met at Lincoln and decided to send John de Hothum to Ireland, to keep the king informed about events there. But before he even set out things turned disastrously for the worse. On 10 September the Earl of Ulster and Edward Bruce met in battle at Connor. It seems that, as at Bannockburn, the earl had not expected to be attacked, and that in fact he was retreating to join Felim O’Connor; but the Scots gave chase to the earl’s army, and forced the battle. For the earl it was a disaster. His cousin, William de Burgh, was captured, as were several other lords and heirs, and his army fled to Carrickfergus Castle, where the pursuing Scots immediately set about besieging them. The earl himself slipped away from the battle, joining Felim O’Connor in Connacht, while the remaining English accused him of betrayal behind his back. He was, after all, father-in-law to Robert Bruce. He had not only lost his position as a leader of men, he was suspected of treason.

  Roger, along with the other nobles in Ireland, was summoned to a parliament to meet at Dublin at the end of October. Its purpose was for John de Hothum to coordinate resistance. But the Scottish naval captain, Thomas Dun, maintaining his sway on the high seas, prevented de Hothum setting sail in time, and he did not arrive until 5 November. By then Roger and his fellow lords had left Dublin and abandoned the parliament. There was no time to discuss strategy: almost every town in Connacht was ablaze and under destruction from warring Irish tribes and Scottish plunderers. It was only a matter of time before the destruction came over the border to Meath.

  It is not entirely clear what happened over the next month. No chronicler followed Roger as he organised his men on the north border of Meath. The most detailed account of the Scottish campaign, written by a Scottish clergyman back in Scotland several decades later, probably confuses parts of the forthcoming onslaught with the earlier Battle of Connor, at which the Earl of Ulster was defeated. What we do know for certain is that on or about 13 November Thomas Randolph returned from a short visit to Scotland with five hundred fresh, experienced soldiers, and that he and Edward Bruce then began to march south from Carrickfergus, leaving a besieging party there. Cautious about advancing straight into Roger’s territory of Meath, they left a reserve contingent at Nobber, about ten miles north-east of Kells. On 30 November they crossed the River Dee and headed for the River Blackwater.

  A week later the two armies met at the town of Kells. Roger had stocked the castle, removed the cattle from the outlying districts, and had placed the gates and walls of the town in a readily defensible state. This was not a preparation for a siege, but to sustain him in the field, for it appears that it was Roger’s choice to fight here, on the north border of Meath, to try to keep the Scots away from his own lands. Details are very scanty, but it seems that, in order to bring the Scots to where he wanted them, he sent two of his vassals, Hugh and Walter de Lacy, to lure Bruce towards Kells.25 Their bait may have been the loyalty of Lord O’Dempsey, an Irish king from Offaly, who had supposedly decided to swear fealty to the Bruce.26 As both sides knew, such promises were Bruce’s only hope of subjugating Ireland. And so he came.

  Given that Edward Bruce had left reinforcements at Nobber, on the main road south to Navan, he may have originally planned to bypass Kells altogether. But in the event he came straight to Roger’s army. The outcome was a catastrophe. The Scots began to burn the town. The one chronicler to describe the battle (the annalist of St Mary’s Abbey, Dublin) attributes the defeat to treachery on the part of Hugh and Walter de Lacy, who had deserted Roger ‘at the third hour’. This could mean at the third hour of the battle, or the third hour of the day, i.e. about 9 a.m. It is possible they feigned withdrawal from the battlefield, for the chronicler states they ‘turned their shields’, perhaps implying that they trapped Roger’s army between them and the Scots.27 But this is unlikely, given that several of Roger’s leading vassals later acquitted the de Lacy brothers of directly dealing with the Scots, and these vassals would have been unlikely to support them if they had turned against them on the battlefield.28 A more likely suggestion is that the de Lacys simply fled after three hours of battle, leaving Roger to fight on against a greater force.29 Whatever the cause, Roger was soon in a desperate situation. The chronicler goes on to add that ‘Roger alone with a few others’ survived the battle. It is likely that he withdrew into the town, which was burnt around him, and that he was forced to fight his way out through the Scots, who, to judge from their past strategies, would have held the town gates. For a handful of experienced fighting knights in full armour and on horseback, such a bold manoeuvre was dangerous but well within their capabilities. The end result was that Roger broke free from the carnage at Kells with a handful of knights, and rode towards Dublin. But his army was utterly destroyed, Kells was burnt, and Meath was now, like all Ireland, open to the Scots invaders.

  In Dublin Roger met John de Hothum. It was decided that Roger should return to England to report on the recent calamities. The country was all but lost. Only a few castles remained in English hands. English government in Ireland was in tatters. At Christmas 1315, Robert and Edward Bruce could fairly say that they had wrested overlordship of more than one third of the British Isles from the King of England within two years. But while English rule had been obliterated in Scotland, Ireland was not yet wholly defeated; and there were many, like Roger Mortimer, who were determined that the fight should go on.

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  FIVE

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  The King’s Lieutenant

  THE RAINS CONTINUED. The harvest of 1314, which should have been taken in by the men who had fought at Bannockburn, was crushed by the appalling weather and rotted black in the fields. The following year was even worse. Animals collapsed and died, and their sodden bodies were to be seen decomposing in the wide stretches of water which had once been lowland meadows. Prices of corn and other foodstuffs in the markets rose alarmingly, and all the chroniclers speak of a terrible famine spreading across England, Wales and Ireland. Society was ill equipped to deal with two harvest failures in a row. It had no means of organising relief for large numbers of people facing starvation. On the political side, it had no means of raising the revenue required to equip itself militarily in a time of dearth. The way of raising revenue for war – a direct taxation of a tenth, fifteenth or twentieth, levied on possessions – was designed to pay wages of soldiers and to buy supplies, not to alleviate suffering, and the families of men required to do the fighting suffered all the more if their menfolk were taken away from their villages. The king could only order that it was illegal to charge more than a certain amount for corn. The result was that people did not sell the corn they had, or sold it furtively. People began to die of starvation. Lords found they had to buy imported grain at high prices, whereas before it had simply been grown and threshed for them on their manors. Providing supplies for garrisons of castles became extremely difficult. At the same time the trade in wool collapsed. Many townsmen lost their livelihoods, and towns lost their revenue from customs and tolls. The terrible economic depression, which over the next five years would reduce the population of England by more than a tenth, had begun.

  Despite the drastic reduction in royal revenues, King Edward was sympathetic to Roger’s situation in Ireland. Just before his defeat at Kells, the king had ordered an inquisition into his debts to the Crown, freezing them until the following Easter. The kin
g was not to know that his gesture came too late to help Roger in Ireland: he only learnt that when Roger himself returned to England and came to court, in January 1316.

  Roger’s purpose in returning was to report on the state of Ireland and to ask for military assistance. It was his intention to return straightaway and resume the fight against Bruce. In respect of this Edward issued a special writ to him on 17 January requesting he attend Parliament, but only ‘if he had not yet returned to Ireland’.1 Edward’s reason for asking him to stay and attend was because of his need of support in England. Not just against the Earl of Lancaster, but against the many rebels taking arms now in this time of deprivation.

  Roger obeyed the summons. He, with the earls, prelates and the king, met in a chamber of a house belonging to the Dean of Lincoln. Edward announced that he wished Parliament to conduct its proceedings speedily, so as to lessen the burden of providing food on the city and locality. But the Earl of Lancaster had not yet arrived. He did not do so until 12 February, two weeks late.

  This delay had been costly. The important business of the parliament, as Lancaster well knew, was to discuss the state of the famine-struck country. People were starving to death. The Scots had torn apart the northern counties, so that manors were disappearing under the combined terrors of starvation and extortion. In the north even loyal English lords had taken to organised robbery to keep their retainers satisfied. If Robert Bruce could ravage the country and be allowed to get away with it, they reasoned, they might as well take what they could from their neighbours before Bruce did. In Wales the plight of the people was just as extreme. But there they had found a leader who not only inspired them, he inspired his enemies too. His name was Llywelyn Bren.

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  When the Earl of Gloucester had perished beneath the spears and axes of the Scots at Bannockburn, he left the country with a great problem. He had no heir, and, despite his wife desperately claiming she was pregnant, none was forthcoming. The dilemma lay in the fact that his earldom was the richest single lordship in the country, worth about £7,000 per annum, and his income was second only to that of the combined five earldoms of Thomas of Lancaster. Even after the dower lands had been counted off, and the lands which his father had granted as annuities or gifts to his men, there was still more than £4,000 per annum left to be partitioned between his three sisters and their husbands. For the people of Glamorgan, however, his death meant that their lands were taken into custody while negotiations for the ultimate dispersal of the estate took place. With no lord, with no local administration, the lordship of Clare, including the great Marcher lordship of Glamorgan, was left in the hands of a series of royal administrators. These could be cold men, like Ingelram de Berengar, who regarded his role as having to contain the Welsh of Glamorgan through force of arms, or they could be more judicious lords, like Bartholomew de Badlesmere, whose policy was more sympathetic to local grievances. But in July 1315, when the animals started dying in the fields, and when the suffering of the people was greatly on the increase, Bartholomew de Badlesmere was removed from office and the administration of Glamorgan was placed in the hands of Payn de Turberville.

  It was a decision which had terrible consequences. De Turberville’s policy towards the suffering Welsh was to beat out of the people what money he could to swell the royal coffers. Bartholomew de Badlesmere’s careful alliances and considerate grants were ignored. Most importantly, those middlemen who had effected de Badlesmere’s policy were dismissed, and replaced with de Turberville’s instruments. Any Welshmen holding office were also dismissed as a matter of course. The most prominent of these Welshmen was Llywelyn Bren.

  Bren means ‘royal’. The epithet was given to him as a mark of respect, not just as a mark of distinguished ancestry. His proper name was Llywelyn ap Gruffydd ap Rhys, his father being one of the warriors who fought in defence of Prince Llywelyn, the last free prince of Wales. Llywelyn Bren himself was lord of Senghennydd, and a favoured sub-lord of the dead Earl of Gloucester. Even the English chroniclers, normally biased, describe him with respect. ‘A great man and powerful in his own country,’ wrote one.2 His greatness imparted a sense of duty to his people. In 1315, with de Turberville persecuting the Welsh of Glamorgan, and taking arms against the people of Senghennydd itself, he could not ignore his countrymen’s plight. As a result, de Turberville accused him of sedition. Llywelyn did the only thing he could: he appealed to the king. He told Edward what troubles his people were suffering, and how they needed relief from the king’s self-interested officer. But Edward was not in a mood to listen, and, with a stunning lack of consideration or forethought, ordered Llywelyn to appear before Parliament to face a charge of treason. Edward also promised him that, if de Turberville’s charge was true, Llewelyn would be hanged. Shocked, Llywelyn took himself back to his estates to prepare for war.

  On 28 January, as Parliament gathered in the chamber of the dean’s house at Lincoln, the Sheriff of Glamorgan was attending a sitting of a court outside the walls of Caerphilly Castle. As the voices cut through the chill air, the sheriff and the court became aware that they were being surrounded. Gradually a huge number of armed Welshmen appeared around them. For those at the court it was too late. In vain they tried to retreat into the castle. Before they could do so the portcullises came down and the drawbridge was raised. The sheriff’s men were slain in the outer bailey of the castle, which was then set alight. The inner castle itself, so well planned and constructed by the ancestors of the Earl of Gloucester, was impregnable, but the sheriff and the constable of the castle were both captured. Then started the chaotic looting and burning as Llywelyn’s men rampaged through Caerphilly with swords drawn, under the direction of Llywelyn’s five sons and his adopted son, Llywelyn ap Madoc ap Howel.

  News of the attack reached Edward a few days later. His first reaction was to appoint William de Montagu and Hugh Audley, the husband of one of the three Gloucester co-heiresses, to recapture the castle. He then reconsidered and appointed the Earl of Hereford as commander in chief of the expedition to put down Llywelyn’s revolt, and directed both Lords Mortimer to assist him. ‘Go quickly and pursue this traitor, lest from delay worse befall us and all Wales rise against us’ were his instructions to the Marcher lords.3 Roger returned to Wigmore to coordinate the raising of his men. By the end of February the force was ready and had assembled in South Wales, and the attack was ready to begin.4

  The campaign against Llywelyn was a demonstration of superior organisation and strength. The Lords Mortimer and the Earl of Hereford marched from the north, while from the south marched John Giffard of Brimpsfield. From the east, Henry of Lancaster (the younger brother of the Earl of Lancaster), William de Montagu and John de Hastings approached with a third contingent. On 12 March the eastern army joined Giffard at Cardiff. The whole of their force, numbering one hundred and fifty mounted men-at-arms and two thousand infantry, went north. They met little real resistance as they pushed on to Caerphilly, and in a short time the castle was relieved.

  With the Earl of Hereford and the Mortimers in the north, and pressed from the south, Llywelyn fled north-westwards, taking his army towards the bleakness of Ystradfellte. Here, on the edge of the Great Forest, he and his men prepared to make one final stand. But on the morning of the final attack, 18 March, as the cold light dawned over the valley, Llywelyn declared to his companions that their deaths were futile. ‘I started this conflict,’ he said to them, ‘and I will end it. I will hand myself over on behalf of all my people. It is better that one man should die than the whole race be exiled or perish by the sword.’ His men tried to persuade him not to give himself up, and, inspired by his speech, they declared they were prepared to die alongside him. But his mind was made up. Alone, in full armour, he rode down from the mountain to meet the English. There he surrendered in the presence of the Earl of Hereford, Roger Mortimer of Wigmore, and John de Hastings.

  Roger and the other English lords were impressed with the nobility of the man and his brave gestu
re. His rebellion was over, a hundred of his men were arrested by the English, but Roger saw no reason to exact revenge. He understood why the man had taken arms. Indeed, he and the earl agreed that they would speak to the king on his behalf.5 They took Llywelyn to the earl’s castle of Brecon, from which the earl wrote to Edward, urging him not to sentence Llywelyn until they had been able to discuss his fate. Then they rode with him and his family to London. Roger and Llywelyn, both being of princely Welsh blood, and both being literate, intelligent and military-minded men, became friends. The list of Llywelyn’s possessions recovered by the English from Llandaff Cathedral includes seven books in French and Welsh, including a copy of the Roman de la Rose, and jewellery and armour, as well as his Welsh chairs and charters and muniments. A few years later, a similar, albeit more extensive, list would be compiled of Roger’s possessions.

  Roger and Hereford were at court by 21 April. He or the earl may well have been instrumental in having Payn de Turberville replaced by John Giffard of Brimpsfield. As for Llywelyn himself, both the earl and Roger did indeed speak to the king on his behalf, and they succeeded in causing the penalty of death, which in normal circumstances would certainly have been imposed, to be commuted to one of imprisonment in the Tower. Nor did Roger’s assistance to the man and his family stop there. In November it was at Roger’s request that the king ordered John Giffard to take action to protect Llywelyn ap Madoc ap Howel, adopted son of Llywelyn Bren, who was being attacked by Englishmen in reprisal for the war.6 Roger, it seems, was a man who remained loyal to those who had earned his friendship. Just how loyal would be shown later.