On 22 June, Dafydd and his younger son Owain ap Dafydd were captured at Nanhysglain, a secret hiding place in a bog on Bera Mountain to the south of Abergwyngregyn. Dafydd, seriously wounded (graviter vulneratus) in the struggle, was brought to King Edward's camp at Rhuddlan that same night (Cotton Vesp. B xi, f30). Dafydd was then taken from there to Chester and then on to Shrewsbury. Dafydd's wife Elizabeth de Ferrers, their daughter Gwladys, infant niece Gwenllian ferch Llywelyn, and Dafydd's six illegitimate daughters were also taken prisoner at the same time. Whether they were with Dafydd and Owain at Bera is not recorded, but it is likely.
On 28 June, Dafydd's other son Llywelyn ap Dafydd was captured. Edward triumphantly proclaimed that the last of the "treacherous lineage", princes of the "turbulent nation", was now in his grasp, captured by men of his own nation (per homines linguae suae).[3] Welsh resistance to the invasion temporarily came to an end. On 28 June, Edward issued writs to summon a parliament to meet at Shrewsbury, to discuss Dafydd's fate.
On 30 September, Dafydd ap Gruffudd, Prince of Wales, was condemned to death, the first person known to have been tried and executed for what from that time onwards would be described as high treason against the King. Edward ensured that Dafydd's death was to be slow and agonising, and also, historically, he became the first prominent person in recorded history to have been hanged, drawn and quartered, preceded by a number of minor knights earlier in the thirteenth century. Dafydd was dragged through the streets of Shrewsbury attached to a horse's tail, then hanged alive, revived, then disembowelled and his entrails burned before him for "his sacrilege in committing his crimes in the week of Christ's passion", and then his body was cut into four-quarters "for plotting the king's death". Geoffrey of Shrewsbury was paid 20 shillings for carrying out the gruesome act on 3 October 1283".
Dafydd's steward Mabalin was also in Shrewsbury, where he was also dragged around the streets by horses before having his body torn apart by them.
"Dafydd's daughter Gwladys, like her cousin Gwenllian ferch Llywelyn, was sent to a convent in Lincolnshire – Gwenllian to Sempringham and Gwladys to Sixhills, where she died in 1336. Dafydd's sons were both imprisoned at Bristol Castle: Llywelyn ap Dafydd died at Bristol Castle "in mysterious circumstances" in 1287 or 1288".
I would add to the above passage that Llywelyn ap Dafydd was 20 yrs old when he was captured with his father and Owain his brother was younger. They were both dragged in chains to Bristol castle.
We see from the above Wikipedia passage that Llywelyn ap Dafydd had died "in mysterious circumstances" at this castle whilst, on Edward's orders, Owain, who was a child, was to be kept in chains and locked in a wooden cage within the dungeons for fear of him escaping. He was kept half starved with little clothing He must have lost his mind as there's a reference to him when he was about 30yrs of age sending a plea to the king to be allowed to play within the walls of his prison.
On that sad and fateful day on the 22 June 1283, Dafydd ap Gruffydd, his family and thirty of his loyal followers were captured on Bera mountain. Gronw ab Dafydd y Penwyn of Melai and Einion ap Ifor were the "Welsh" traitors who led the English soldiers to Dafydd's hideout and they were rewarded with 30 marks and 20 head of cattle each for their betrayal. i refer to them as "Welsh" as I do not consider them worthy of being called Cymry.
The treachery does not end there, Edward 1 had already been given the privy seal that had been retrieved from Llywelyn on his death and had been searching for all the royal treasures of Gwynedd including the Croes Naid, this was handed over to him by Dafydd's Secretary Huw ab Ithel who was rewarded with a scholsrship to Oxford.
Whatever has been repeated about Dafydd's behaviour in regards to his rebellions against his brother Llywelyn, surely, this document will show him to have had reasonable cause for his grievances. Edward was constantly demanding more and more land and taxes and were forcing the brothers into a tight corner. In the end, Dafydd and Llywelyn conceded that they had no choice left to them but to unite to lead the Cymry in a war against a much larger nation that had a ferocious and tyrannical leader that would not stop until he had every acre of Cymru in his grasp, and of course, he was assisted by treacherous "Welsh" There had been plenty of willing traitors around then and continued to be throughout the following centuries and up to the present day, where they are too ready to forget the sacrifices made by loyal patriots of the past in their eagerness to salivate, bow low and shake the hands of the English royalty as they continue to ravage our land and rule over us.
Gerallt Lloyd Owen in his poignant poem Fy Ngwlad could not have put it better:
Wylit, wylit, Lywelyn, Wylit waed pe gwelit hyn.Ein calon gan estron wr, Ein coron gan goncwerwr, A gwerin o ffafrgarwyr Llariaidd eu gwên lle'r oedd gwyr. Fe rown wên i'r Frenhiniaeth, Nid gwerin nad gwerin gaeth. Byddwn daeog ddiogel A dedwydd iawn, doed a ddêl, Heb wraidd na chadwynau bro, Heb ofal ond bihafio. Ni'n twyllir hyn hir gan au Hanesion rhyw hen oesau. Y ni o gymedrol nwyd Yw'r dynion a Brydeiniwyd, Ni yw'r claear wladgarwyr, Eithafol ryngwladol wyr.
Fy ngwlad, fy ngwlad, cei fy nghledd Yn wridog dros d'anrhydedd.
O gallwn, gallwn golli Y gwaed hwn o'th blegid di.
Translated:
Llywelyn, tears of blood you would weep, If you should see this from your sleep: Our heart in a foreigner's hand, Our ancient throne in a conqueror's land; A nation where the meek abound, Where once were men who stood their ground. We smile beneath the Royalty, Peasants are peasants, never free. We'll carry on our slavish way Content and happy come what may; Lost of roots, nothing to save, Without a care but to behave. We shall not be deceived for long By fables and historic song, For we, who now just count to ten, Are Wales' Rule-Britannia men. We are the patriots who lack fire, The headstrong international choir. In honour of your name, my land, I'll ride with reddened sword in hand, And nothing more than this is true: How I could spill this blood for you.
Translated to English by Meirion Macintyre Huws
Dafydd ap Gruffydd and those that sacrificed at his side to the bitter end, most certainly deserved to be remembered with a fitting memorial but, will they be though?
BELOW: INFORMATION ON HOW TO GET TO NANHYSGLAIN. Why not organise a field trip for to see what's possible?
