Elizabeth Jane Corbett

writing her way home

Tag: owain glyndwr (Page 2 of 2)

History – a matter of perspective

I have started researching a new novel, set between the years 1383 and 1413. It will begin in the Tower of London and end in the Tower of London and range from Flintshire to Snowdonia before finally reaching its harrowing climax in Harlech Castle. That’s all I’m going to say at this point. Apart from the fact that (to my knowledge) there are no statues of my viewpoint character in Wales, hardly anything written about her. Why is that? I’m sure she played her part. Why do men’s exploits so dominate the pages of history?

Before we ponder that question, let us examine my suitability for the task.

I was raised in Australia. I did a project on beef cattle in grade four (for which I received a gold stars), heard a fair bit about convicts (despite SA where I grew up being colonised entirely by free settlers). I absorbed similar jaw cracking stories about the sailors from the good ship Corromandel who absconded in the Adelaide Hills, along with obligatory visits to pioneer village and old government house. I did a term of American history in year ten, focussing on slavery, a term on the Russian Revolution, another on the French, and similar units on the history of China and India. In my final school year, I studied the causes of the First and Second World Wars. I did an undergraduate history degree majoring in history (primarily Australian) and my urban history units touched on Europe. But there was no Welsh history in that mix, barely any English (apart from those horrible old judges who sent innocent convicts to the antipodes for stealing handkerchiefs).

So, on paper, hmm… not so well qualified.

Fortunately, I’m a librarian <insert research junkie> and I have a slight (cough) interest in Wales. I’ve made it my business to do a spot of reading on the side and, now, thanks to the recent referendum, I am able to buy second hand books far dirtier and cheaper than I could a month ago. I have started with an overview of the period. This entailed re-reading, Land of My Fathers’.

Land of My Fathers’ is an unashamedly partisan history of Wales. It’s author, Gwynfor Evans, was a Welsh hero, politician and statesmen who took on Maggie Thatcher and won (yep, that good). I believe every word of his history. I read parts of it every now and again to regain a true perspective on the world. However, despite the fact, that I share the author’s considerable biases, I thought it best to cast my research nets a little wider. Over the last few weeks I’ve also read, The Hollow Crown, Owain Glyndŵr: the story of the last prince of Wales, The Three Richards, The Revolt of Owain Glyn Dŵr, The Time Traveller’s guide to Medieval England, A History of Wales, and the Cambridge University Press title: Medieval Wales. 

Amazon tells me David Walker, the author of Medieval Wales was “born in or near Wilmington in or near, North Carolina, the son of a slave father and a free black mother (thus under the laws of slavery, he was born free).” These biographical details can’t be correct, as the book’s prefaces Walker as a former senior lecturer in Medieval studies at University College Swansea, a contemporary of Glanmore Williams (b. 1920) and R. R. Davies (b. 1938). I don’t know where he hailed from or what his background. Only that reading Medieval Wales felt like receiving a series of slaps in the face.

Here is what Walker had to say about the reign of Owain Glyn Dŵr, the last native Welshman to hold the title Prince of Wales.

In the literary record his prospects and his capacity as soldier and leader were, by well known convention, overstated. […] The records suggest that Glyn Dŵr had a sense of style and he knew the value of the outward trappings of power, but the limitations of his power were all too easily identifiable. […] Plunder and thinly disguised extortion provided (Glyn Dŵr with) short-term supplies but left a legacy of bitterness […] In one important sense the Pennal scheme was well based: an independent Welsh church was a sound ambition. In another sense, […] it implied a capacity to inflict a massive defeat on the English King which was far beyond Glyn Dŵr’s resources.

Now by English standards of wealth and power, Glyn Dŵr may not have been considered a great threat. But as I’ve mentioned before on this blog, there are two worlds in Wales – the English speaking and the Welsh speaking – and, my preliminary reading tells me, this phenomenon was active in fourteenth century Wales. In the Welsh speaking world, Glyn Dŵr was considered the pre-eminent claimant for the title. Under the surface of an outwardly subservient populace a powerful network of kinship alliances and aspirations was in operation. Added to which, the English crown was in disarray – the King having been usurped and starved to death by his own cousin.

The History of Wales was written by the late John Davies, an eminent Welsh historian who won the Owain Glyndŵr Award for his outstanding contribution to the arts. The tone of his work is less condescending than Walker’s. Here is what Davies had to say about Glyn Dŵr:

By 1400, Owain Glyndwr was a man with considerable experience of the ways of the world. In addition to the mass support which Owain received from the villeins and poorer clergy, he also won the allegiance of most of the members of the low ranks of the Welsh official class. By 1404 […] so great was the prince’s authority and so feeble the reaction of Henry IV that English officials, Marcher Lords and the inhabitants of the border counties were making their own local agreements with the new power that had arisen in Wales. At the same time, Owain was seeking an alliance with the Percy and Mortimer families. […] At the beginning of 1405, French soldiers (yes, he had secured the backing of the Pope and the French King) landed at Milford Haven.

History is a matter of perspective. And most often a male perspective.

Yet amidst these records of power bases, battles and alliances, there is another narrative. The story of a woman, all but forgotten by time, who lost her home as a result of her husband’s decisions, who watched many of her children die, who ended her days a prisoner of the English crown. A Welsh woman, of Norman descent, Marged ferch Dafydd, who lived, loved, laboured and no doubt played her part. Yet history simply remembers as the wife of Owain Glyn Dŵr.

Blog twenty six o Gymru – a Bootcamp hat trick

Eighteen months ago I went on a Say Something in Welsh Bootcamp. Fortunately, it did not involve early mornings, sit ups, positive affirmations or green smoothies. It was a language Bootcamp, a chance to live in a wholly Welsh speaking environment for a week. It was incredible but I won't repeat myself. You can read all about that week here.

After Bootcamp, a few of us stayed in touch. When my Maelor plans fell into place we decided to do hold our own 'unofficial ' Bootcamp. Essentially, we would have a self-directed holiday in which we chose to speak only in Welsh. We weren't sure how it would go without the official 'English Not.' But we needn't have worried because we don't really know each other in English.

It felt natural to speak Welsh.

When my return dates to Australia firmed up (yes, I am coming back) we decided to have one more Welsh language holiday together, a weekend this time. Unfortunately, one of the group wasn't able to make it, so we were down to four. But this didn't diminish our pleasure. Which is a good sign. My friends will be able to go on having Bootcamps without me (sob).

One of the over-riding features of these holidays (apart from speaking Welsh) is laughter. For some reason, I laugh more with this group of friends than others. I think perhaps, I laugh more in Welsh. But that is a whole new topic for discussion, something to do with letting go of eloquence and maturity and communicating like a child again. Whatever the reason, with this particular group of friends it feels normal to:

  • Stand outside a cafe and look at the menu to see whether it is bilingual
  • Choose a restaurant on the basis of whether we will be able to order in Welsh
  • Ask Welsh speaking friends to join us for the evening
  • Talk about the future of Cyrsiau Cymraeg i Oedolion (Welsh for adults courses)
  • Look up Welsh words in the dictionary
  • Marvel at how apt they are
  • For example losgfynydd – volcano (literally burnt mountain), drewgi – skunk (literally stink dog)
  • Discuss politics
  • Movies
  • Songs
  • Books
  • Life
  • All in Welsh
  • I mean, why not?
  • Scan the real estate for a place in which to start our Welsh speaking commune
  • Point out suitable locations as we travel around the countryside our plans growing more expansive by the mile
  • Visit the Amgueddfa Llechi Genedlaethol (national slate museum) and read the information boards together in Welsh
  • Sit in the back at the back row of the museum theatrette listening to the Welsh language version of the introductory film
  • With the louder English language soundtrack blaring in the background
  • Thinking what an apt metaphor that is for the whole messy situation
  • Compare how much we'd understood of the film afterwards
  • Realise we'd understood most of it
  • Or at least misunderstood exactly the same things
  • To be asked: are you English? by a woman with a plum in her mouth
  • 'Oh, I see,' plum woman replied, after we'd satisfied her curiosity. 'I thought you were speaking Norwegian
  • Well, of course, why on earth would anyone be speaking Welsh in Wales?
  • Play Jack Straws (a favourite game of my childhood)
  • Learn the Welsh name of every read, green, blue and yellow tool in the Jack Straws box
  • Including masculine, feminine and plural forms
  • I mean, that's normal, right?
  • Wonder aloud whether this would be a good exercise to do with my class in Melbourne
  • Imagine their shudder of horror as they read this blog
  • Test each other from the Oxford Visual dictionary
  • On and off through the weekend
  • Sometimes for over an hour
  • I mean, we all test our friends with picture dictionaries on holidays don't we?
  • Translate ABBA songs into Welsh
  • Sing them
  • Badly
  • Late at night
  • Wonder whether this would be a good entry for the next SSiW Eisteddfod
  • Consider doing an official Bootcamp, just to perform the item
  • With all the ABBA costumes and actions
  • Visit Castell y Bere – one of Llewelyn Fawr's more remote mountain citadels
  • Image in a Wales in which Owain Glyndwr's vision had prevailed
  • In which it always had its own parliament
  • And laws
  • And language
  • Without the 'Welsh Not'
  • Or the 'Treachery of the Blue Books'
  • Without Maggie Thatcher as Prime Minister
  • Or Tony Blair, or David Cameron
  • To feel sad, so sad for what might have been
  • Knowing there are people in England who would have liked an alternative history too

 

 

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