Owen had also succeeded in winning the support of the Pope, or rather of one of the Popes; for those were the days of the Great Schism, and there were rival claimants for the throne of St. Peter. Owen decided to withdraw the spiritual allegiance of Wales from the Roman Pope, Gregory XII, and to transfer it to Peter de Luna, then dwelling in Avignon, and calling himself Pope Benedict XIII. In return, of course, Owen expected the Pope to acknowledge the independence of Wales. John Trevor, bishop of St. Asaph, had already gone over to the nationalist side; and Owen, {120} with the Pope's consent, nominated Llewelyn Bifort to the see of Bangor. Apparently this prelate was never recognised by the English Church; but he was present some years later at the Council of Constance, signing himself as "Ludovicus Bangorensis." In the North Wales dioceses, at least, the national party was supreme between 1404 and 1408, and in a lesser degree in those of the South as well. The project of founding two national Universities, it seems, never found any sort of realization in Owen's day, nor indeed for close upon five centuries afterwards. But the plan in itself is sufficient to rebut the ridiculous calumny that Owen was an uncivilized barbarian. It is a pity that the age which saw the founding of Universities at St. Andrews, Prague, Vienna, Louvain, Cracow, Cologne, Padua, Heidelberg, Leipzig, Erfurt, Pesth, Würtzburg, and Rostock, should not have witnessed the founding of one in Wales as well. What a difference the existence of such an institution would have made in the national character, and in the whole outlook of the people, we can only regretfully conjecture. For centuries young Welshmen flocked eagerly to Oxford, to Cambridge, and to some of the {121} famous European seats of learning; but the culture of Wales ran in other channels, undisciplined and amateurish, and, despite its wonderful charm and fascination, lacking in classic restraint and breadth of outlook.