Stewart Binns - Anarchy

Paradoxically, although I was still determined to challenge our Norman masters one day, the only way I could acquire the skills to become a warrior was by undergoing the training regime of our Norman lords and become a knight of their realm. So, in 1114, at the age of sixteen, I accompanied King Henry Beauclerc on a punitive expedition against the Welsh, who had been causing mayhem in the Marches.

I was spoiling for a fight, and soon found one. But it was not the breath-taking adventure I had imagined.

King Henry’s major concern in 1114 was the situation in Wales. Both during the period of Norman rule and under the English kings before them, the Welsh princes were a thorn in the side of English magnates – especially those on the western borders, and those who had built fortifications within Wales to try to pacify them. Norman lords had been murdered, their families abducted and tortured, their women raped and mutilated. The Welsh also fought amongst themselves, and there were hostile feuds between those princes who had made alliances with the English kings and those who had not.

In Mid Wales, Madog, son of Rhirid ap Bleddyn, had been blinded and mutilated by his cousin Owain ap Cadwgan, who was the most notorious of the Welshmen that King Henry was determined to subdue. This act of revenge between cousins led to an outbreak of tribal bloodletting. In the north, the King of Gwynedd, Gruffudd ap Cynan, had been raiding the lands of the Norman Marcher Lord Richard, Earl of Chester, who had complained to the King, as had Gilbert FitzRichard, Lord of Ceredigion.

Henry Beauclerc had had enough and decided to teach the Welsh a lesson. With himself at its head, a large force advanced deep into Wales. He split his soldiers into three main armies, each over 2,000 strong, including archers and heavy cavalry. In the south, Gilbert FitzRichard commanded an army from Cornwall and South Wales. In the north, Richard of Chester advanced to Penant Bachwy, while the King led the third group into Merionethshire. Alexander, King of the Scots was with the King, in large part to demonstrate to the Welsh that the Scots had succumbed to the power of the Norman King of England and had accepted Henry as their overlord.

I had been taken to Wales in the King’s retinue as a favour to my mother, granted by Hugh Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, one of the main benefactors of the new cathedral at Norwich. I was put under the care of Olaf Godredsson, heir to the Kingdom of the Isles and Mann, who had lived at Henry’s court since he was a boy, as part of the King’s treaty with Olaf’s father, Godred Crovan.

Olaf had been made constable of the King’s cavalry for the expedition into Wales, an assignment that filled him with pride. A man in his mid thirties, nicknamed ‘The Red’ or ‘Bites your Leg’ based on his bright red hair and diminutive stature, he was, despite first impressions, a kind and thoughtful man and an excellent soldier. He did tend to bellow his orders and to intimidate those around him, but those close to him knew him to be loyal and generous to all who served him. He was also a brilliant horseman and cavalry officer, particularly fond of mass charges in close formation.

I joined the army at Oxford and my status as a junior knight of the realm meant that Olaf made me a messenger in his personal troop. He seemed to like me – especially after I was able to stumble through a conversation in Norse with him, and I explained my Norse ancestry on my mother’s side. It was Olaf who told me about Owain ap Cadwgan on our long march to Wales.

‘Is this your first expedition?’

‘It is, sir.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Sixteen, sir.’

‘That’s about right, let’s hope you learn from it. Do you want to join the King when you are of age?’

‘I’m not sure, my Lord. I just know that I must find what awaits me in the world.’

‘So, you believe in destiny?’

‘I do, sir. My mother taught me that we each have a destiny, but that most people don’t find theirs and live their lives unfulfilled and resentful.’

‘Your mother is very wise. Perhaps you can win your colours chasing this rogue, Owain ap Cadwgan?’

‘Sir, what has he done to annoy the King so much?’

‘Well, the King wants to teach several of the Welsh princes a lesson, but this one is a particular villain. A long time ago, when William Rufus was King, a young Welsh princess, Nest, daughter of Rhys ap Tewdwr, King of Deheubarth, was captured by Arnulf of Montgomery – one of the King’s most ferocious warriors – and brought to the King’s court. She is still very beautiful, but as a young woman she caught the eye of everyone at court – especially young Henry, now our Lord King, Henry Beauclerc. She bore him a child, rumoured to be the renowned Robert, Earl of Gloucester, before he tired of her and married her off to Gerald of Windsor, Lord of Cenarth Bychan. Five years ago, Owain ap Cadwgan heard about the beautiful Nest at a drunken feast and became obsessed by her, particularly given that she had become a concubine of the Normans. He convinced himself that Henry Beauclerc had raped her and that she was now trapped in a remote castle by her equally rapacious Norman husband.’

‘Could that be true, my Lord?’

‘Who knows? The King has so many mistresses… I’m sure most are willing partners. Perhaps she wasn’t. That’s certainly what Owain got into his head. Shortly after the feast, Owain summoned a dozen or so of his followers and rode to Cenarth Bychan. The keep was barred to them, so they dug under the walls – an exercise that took half the night – before slaughtering the garrison and bursting in on Nest and her captor, with whom she had had three children. Like a coward, Gerald of Windsor escaped down the chute of the garderobe and into the pile of shit his shameful behaviour deserved, leaving his wife and children at the mercy of Owain and his men. In a fury fuelled by his killing spree, Owain ripped Nest’s clothes from her and while his men held her down viciously raped her in front of her children. He repeated the humiliation at dawn and again a few hours later, before carrying her off with her children to a remote hunting lodge at Eglwyseg Rocks north of the Vale of Llangollen.’

‘Sir, it’s easy to understand why he’s a hunted man–’

‘Wait, there’s more to the story. Nest agreed to stay with Owain if he let her children return to their father, which he did. She was true to her word and bore him two children. It is hard to believe, but some say she grew to be fond of him. But, regardless of that, when he was finally tracked down in Llangollen by a Norman expedition, Owain escaped to Ireland to avoid the King’s wrath. Nest was reunited with Gerald of Windsor, a man who had been doing penance ever since abandoning his wife.’

‘But, sir, if Owain is in Ireland, why this expedition?’

‘He is not in Ireland. Three years ago, Owain returned to Wales to claim his father’s title as Prince of Powys, his father having been killed by a man he thought was his friend, Madog ap Rhirid. Owain captured Madog, tied him to a stake, blinded him with a hot iron and castrated him with a seax. Owain then declared his loyalty to King Henry and began to attack the other Welsh princes.’

‘So, my Lord, did the King accept Owain’s submission?’

‘On the surface, yes, but the King is shrewd. Let’s just say that Gerald of Windsor is with the King on this expedition. He has his wife back and has done his penance, but he still wants his revenge.’

Olaf’s inference was all too obvious: Owain ap Cadwgan was walking into a trap.

In the early weeks of the expedition, the King was as astute as he was belligerent and systematically bought off the Welsh with land and favours. But not before he hanged a few troublemakers, blinded some miscreants caught hunting in royal forests and tortured a couple of local firebrands to show that he meant business. A large English army and cartloads of English silver were enough to convince even the hardiest of Welsh princes to bow to the great king from the east and retreat to their remote fortresses.