Hulbert, too, in his “_History of the Town and County of Salop_,” referring to the famous battle, says, “Owain Glyndwr _beheld_ the battle of Shrewsbury, instead of _sustaining_, by his arms, the cause of his ally, the gallant and intrepid Hotspur.” Another writer on this memorable event declares, that had Glyndwr brought up his reserved troops when Hotspur by his impetuous onslaughts was within an ace of victory, or when the brave warrior was slain, the battle would have been won, and the royal forces entirely routed. Taking these allegements to be truths, Glyndwr perpetrated a baseness which all faithful men must condemn. Many writers have taken pains to solve the question, “Did Owain Glyndwr act merely as an idle spectator at the battle of Shrewsbury; or did he actually lead his _corps de reserve_ to Shelton, to aid the gallant Hotspur?” No author that we have read has settled that doubtful inquiry. Owain’s hatred of Henry, and his ardent efforts to give freedom to his countrymen, with his chivalrous bearing in the rebellion he had created, would suggest no evidence that Glyndwr was pusillanimous; and yet history furnishes alleged facts strongly reflecting upon his heroic spirit, and almost charging him with craven cowardice. To conclude that Glyndwr was actuated by base and unmanly curiosity in perching himself upon a branch of the Shelton Oak would be to brand his name with infamy; and yet, if he were espying the battle from that famous tree, his troops being close in reserve, but not in action, an accusation no less severe must ever rest upon his character as a chieftain and a man. On this interesting subject, which will always engage the attention of historical readers, a poet of bright fancy and manly sentiment—Dovaston of Westfelton—has given sarcastic expression to an opinion, in a Miltonic sonnet on the Shelton Oak, that Owain Glyndwr, at the battle of Shrewsbury, was a traitor to gallantry and faith:— “Tradition says, and why not trust Tradition, When many a haunt breathes, hallowed by her song, From this Great Oak, backed by twelve thousand men, Wrung at their country’s wrongs and murdered king, Glyndwr, the wise, the bountiful, the brave, _Beheld young Percy fall_: and conquest crown The perjured Bolingbroke.—‘Bright youth, he cried, Thy spur is cold. One thoughtless act hath lost An Empire’s tide. Mark what the great have said— ‘The better part of valour is discretion,’ For safe on prudence every good attends.” “The Battle of Shrewsbury” is not only “clad,” as the same poet fancifully describes, “in cold-hearted History’s homely weeds,” but “garlanded with Avon’s dewy flowers.” The conflict is part of the history of this district; and the narrative we subjoin, from the able pens of the historians of Shrewsbury, will attract the attention of all who value “pure English, undefiled:”—