Chapter 1 - Page 2

as had not been subjugated by the Mortimers, Guarines,
Latimers, FitzAlans, and other Norman nobles, who, under various
pretexts, and sometimes contemning all other save the open avowal
of superior force, had severed and appropriated large portions of
that once extensive and independent principality, which, when
Wales was unhappily divided into three parts on the death of
Roderick Mawr, fell to the lot of his youngest son, Mervyn. The
undaunted resolution and stubborn ferocity of Gwenwyn, descendant
of that prince, had long made him beloved among the "Tall men" or
Champions of Wales; and he was enabled, more by the number of
those who served under him, attracted by his reputation, than by
the natural strength of his dilapidated principality, to retaliate
the encroachments of the English by the most wasteful inroads.

Yet even Gwenwyn on the present occasion seemed to forget his
deeply sworn hatred against his dangerous neighbours. The Torch of
Pengwern (for so Gwenwyn was called, from his frequently laying
the province of Shrewsbury in conflagration) seemed at present to
burn as calmly as a taper in the bower of a lady; and the Wolf of
Plinlimmon, another name with which the bards had graced Gwenwyn,
now slumbered as peacefully as the shepherd's dog on the domestic
hearth.

But it was not alone the eloquence of Baldwin or of Girald which
had lulled into peace a spirit so restless and fierce. It is true,
their exhortations had done more towards it than Gwenwyn's
followers had thought possible. The Archbishop had induced the
British Chief to break bread, and to mingle in silvan sports, with
his nearest, and hitherto one of his most determined enemies, the
old Norman warrior Sir Raymond Berenger, who, sometimes beaten,
sometimes victorious, but never subdued, had, in spite of
Gwenwyn's hottest incursions, maintained his Castle of Garde
Doloureuse, upon the marches of Wales; a place strong by nature,
and well fortified by art, which the Welsh prince had found it
impossible to conquer, either by open force or by stratagem, and
which, remaining with a strong garrison in his rear, often checked
his incursions, by rendering his retreat precarious. On this
account, Gwenwyn of Powys-Land had an hundred times vowed the
death of Raymond Berenger, and the demolition of his castle; but
the policy of the sagacious old warrior, and his long experience
in all warlike practice, were such as, with the aid of his more
powerful countrymen, enabled him to defy the attempts of his fiery
neighbour. If there was a man, therefore, throughout England, whom
Gwenwyn hated more than another, it was Raymond Berenger; and yet
the good Archbishop Baldwin could prevail on the Welsh prince to
meet him as a