In 1461 he fought under the banner of his son Jasper at the battle of Mortimer’s Cross, and would not quit the field, but was taken with several other Welsh gentlemen, and was beheaded soon after at Hereford. Jones, in his _Relicks of the Welsh Bards_, 1794, gives a duet which purports to be translated from the Welsh, and which is based on the wooing of Owen Tudor and Catherine. He does not give the original Welsh. The air as well as the words has a very modern smack. The duet begins:-- “_Owen._ I salute thee, sweet Princess, with title of grace, For Cupid commands me in heart to embrace Thy honours, thy virtues, thy favour, thy beauty, With all my true service, my love, and my duty. _Catherine._ Courteous, kind gentleman, let me request, How comes it that Cupid hath wounded thy breast? And chanc’d thy heart’s liking my servant to prove, That am but a stranger to this, thy kind love?” And it all winds up with their saying together:-- “Then mark how the notes of our merry town bells, Our ding-dong of pleasure most cheerfully tells. Then ding-dong, fair ladies, and ladies all true, This ding-dong of pleasure may satisfy you.” Actually it would seem that the spooning was on the side of the Queen and not of Owen. The house of Penmynydd dates from 1370, and is consequently the same as that visited by the commission. The kitchen is intact, and the Tudor arms are carved about the building, and there still is the courtyard in which the ancestress of King Edward VII. sat shelling peas into a bowl when the deputation arrived. Wales is supposed to have provided a grandmother to queens Mary and Anne, a pot-girl, who married the brewer whose tubs she scoured, so soon as his wife died. But the story is as apocryphal as that of the smuggling into the palace of James II. of a surreptitious Prince of Wales in a warming-pan. The Protestant party got up this latter scandalous fable, and Mary of Modena and the Roman Catholic faction retaliated with the tale of the Welsh pot-girl. The story was this. It was confidently asserted that the wife of the celebrated Lord Clarendon was a bare-footed Welsh lass who had gone to London for service and found employment as a “tub-woman” to a brewer and publican there, who subsequently married her, and on his death bequeathed to her a large fortune. As the succession was disputed by his relations, she sought the professional assistance of the lawyer Edward Hyde, who introduced her to his family, and his son Edward married her. She became the mother of Anne, whom James Duke of York married. Her granddaughters Mary and Anne wore the crown.