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Owain Glyn Dwr,the last native Welshman to hold the title 'Prince of Wales' was said to have magical powers. A gentleman and a scholar, Glyndwr had studied law at Oxford and at the Inns of Court in London.
Shakespeare,immortalisedhim in 'Henry 1V Part 1, changing thename Glyndwr, (Glyn Dwr), to Glendower, calling him that 'damn'd magician, Glendower'.
It was claimed that Glyn Dwr had the ability to 'call spirits from the vasty deep' andenchanted birds so that they sang out of tune. (This reference is picked up in a Beatles' songs in the line: 'Birds sing out of tune',but I forget the title).
Comets flashed in the skies, and the sun shonewhenGlyndwr was withfriends but thunderstorms accompanied him when enemies appeared.
Owen Glyndwr, Owynus Lei Cratia, Princeps Wallie, Owen by the Grace of God, Prince of Wales. A descendantof the Princes of Powys, this title was bestowedby the people.
Said to have been born in 1354, Glyndwrinspired a revolt againstHenry 1Vof England in 1400. Although the attack wasunsuccessful, yet itsucceeded in uniting the Welsh.
I became interested in Owain Glyndwr forty years ago. When I wasin Trinity College, the history group spent a week working in Haverfordwest Record Office. I was researching the coming of the railway in 1853 but oncehistorical documentsare in front of me,Iread them and this how I became caught up in Glyndwr's attack on Haverfordwest Castle.
Haverfordwest Castle was familiar to Glyndwr, because he was brought up a few miles away,inWolfscastle. Like all good guerilla leaders, he knew his territory well.
The castle was defended by the Earl of Arundel. The irony was that Glyndwr and Arundel had togetherfoughtthe king's cause in the Scottish wars, before Glyndwr had changed his politics, championing Wales over England.
Shortly before the attack on Haverfordwest,scouts were sent out to warn the townspeoplethat, if they valued their lives, they were to make for the banks of the River Cleddau.
The rebels, whose ranks were swelled byFrench soldiers and Spanish pirates,entered the town and turned their horses for the castle.Glyndwr was determined his golden dragon would fly from the battlements by nightfall.
Despite the bloodiest of fights, the castle did not succumb. Glyndwr escaped with his life.
A story is told of how Glyndwr appeared to the Abbot of Valle Crucis, greeting himby saying: 'Sir Abbot, you have risen too early'.
'No, Sire', replied the abbot, 'You are one hundred years too soon'.
If we want to make a call when we are on the road all we have to do is locate the nearest mobile phone tower on the map, drive to it, park directly underneath and attach the phone to the car battery with jump leads. Works a treat!
Here are some pics of me placing an emergency call on the AmeriCymru mobile somewhere near tower 51.
p.s. we are happy campers with Virgin Mobile
Here's a Blackberry case with the image of Dr. William Price, Archdruid of Wales. I don't usually blog to flog (my wares) but this is too cool to waste. The grey stripe is a watermark, not part of the actual product. Find it at http://www.zazzle.com/archdruid_blackberry_case-179147809831061462 Enjoy! iPhone case to come. Samsung Galaxy case also available. 
In a new novel by Peter Gordon Williams retells the compelling tale of the warrior prince and his dealings with a host of characters, ranging from his loyal bodyguard Madoc to mad King Charles of France.
The novel relates that Owain Glyn Dŵr was more than just a courageous and resourceful commander – he was an eminent scholar who, in the pursuit of learning and scholarship, looked beyond the boundaries of Wales. He devoted his life to attempting to establish Wales as an independent parliamentary democracy. His strength and sincerity shone forth in an age noted for its cynicism and corruption.
The author Peter Gordon Williams has long been enthralled with the life of Owain Glyn Dŵr and thought him a fascinating subject for a novel. Owain enjoyed many highs and endured many lows in his life and these are recalled in an engrossing and entertaining way by the author.
Peter Gordon Williams was born in Merthyr Tydfil where he attended Cyfarthfa Castle Grammar School. He graduated in mathematics from University College of Wales, Swansea and was later awarded an MSc for research. He then served for two years in the RAF before teaching in Further and Higher Education. In 1997 he retired from his post as tutor and counsellor with the Open University. He has already published three novels.
Owain Glyn Dŵr The Last Prince of Wales will be released by Y Lolfa on October the 26th, priced £7.95.
I heard the sound of a horse's hooves coming down the road this morning, clear as a sparkle of cut-glass. Iran to the window.
I love horses, their velvety lips, the way they toss their heads, their smell, their serenity. I feel energisedwhenI've been close to a horse.
William and Catherine Sivell,my grandparents, were the licensees of the Black Horse Hotel, Pontardulais. They were the models for Dadda and Mamma in my novel, 'Salt Blue'.
My grandfather had a riding school, too,and kept horsesin thestablesbehind the Black Horse, where there wasa large field for them tograze.
Every flat surface of my grandparents' home was filledwith pictures of horses and my grandfather used to enter the pony and carriage classes in the local shows.
Harry Llewellyn, Pat Smythe and their mounts stayed in Pontardulais with them, at various times
My daughter, Kate, had a pony, too. When she outgrew Amber, we agreed Amber would be soldonly to someone we knew, who would care for her and this is what happened. We still talk nostalgically of Amber and have her pictureon the wall.
There are plenty of animal lovers around, not just horse lovers. Pooches who live near me have collars that light up when they take their nightly constitutional, they haveregular trims and manicures atthe pooch parlourand live oncooked liver, chicken breast, sausages and other delicacies.
What riles me is animal crueltyand some of the worst instancesoccurat horse racing events.For this reason, I never watchhorse racing andI take especial exceptionto the Grand National.
Recently, I heard of a horse whipped so much during somebig race or other that it had collapsed and had to be given oxygen to revive it. (I've hunted for this reference, butcan't find it at the moment, but there areplenty ofother shocking incidents to use as illustration).
At the American course at Belmont, a few weeks ago, Cape Blanco was whipped twenty one times.
If this and the other incident I mentioned had occurred anywhere other than on a race course, the perpetrators would have been prosecuted, but as it is 'sport', they get called before the Stewards, have a ticking off (a metaphorical slap across the wrists) and are banned from a few races.
After the big races, the jockey, the trainer and the owner are all interviewed on television and congratulated. I wonder if they and the gelatinous televison interviewer would enjoy a run around the track, accompanied bya sound whipping.How much faster would they run then?
There'sthe old argument that horses enjoy racing butI cannot see how it follows that they should be whipped. A skilled jockey can urgehorses on by using toes, ankles, knees and the reins. That is what is meant by the art of riding.
The 'Sport of Kings' can be barbaric. Because big money is involved,insiders don't care about animal welfare.Therefore, those who have a conscience should show their disapproval by shunning these events. Anythingelse iscomplicity.
'With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come' - I quote from the 'The Merchant of Venice', but there's precious little to laugh about in the newspapers today.
In Carmarthen, I heard an olderpersongrumbling, saying he couldn't afford to live muchlongerbecause it was was to expensiveto heat the house.
On the news, I heard that three thousand people in England and Wales are dying each year becauseenergy billshave rocketed.
Inflation is partly to blamefor this. A pension worth ten thousand poundstwenty years ago, has nowdropped to 5,658, in actual purchasing power.
But the headline that incensed mewas: 'elderly should be taxed out of their homes and let younger families move in'.
Anyone would think we lived in palaces, country estates or Knightsbridge mansions. It's tantamount to saying thatpensioners should be put on an ice flow and setadrift.
Peter and Ilive in a four bedroom house,bought with money we saved from one modest income.
The builder said it had two double bedrooms and two single rooms.Only one bedroom, with an en-suite,could honestly be called 'double'.
The other bedroom has a three quarter sizedbed, a wardrobe and dressing table, butlittle room to move around in.
We're not Royalty, but we like our own bedrooms. Myroom is hot, Peter likes his cool. I take three quarters of the bedand get annoyedif I'mwoken up and told to move over and share the duvet. Peter snores.
Tonight Peter has the twenty four hour heart monitor attached to him and, every time it tightens to check blood pressure, it beeps, but I won't hearit in my own room.
We also havea 'family bathroom',where Ihave to position myself 'just so'to close the door. (No hopes of getting the whole family in there).
In addition,we havetwo'shoeboxes'- (single rooms, according tothe builder).
The back room just about takestwowardrobes - (yes, I have clothes - my goodness, the way some people have it in for pensioners I expect they would like usto dress in Chairman Mao style pyjamas all day so we could give the moneysaved to the taxman). Sorry.I am getting bitter. It's an age thing. Ignore it.
The fourth bedroom, classified the 'Scriptorium', is whereI am at the moment. I can easily sit at the computer as long asI keep my stomach in.
Downstairs we have a not overly large sitting roomand a dining room, which we use for every meal, plus a kitchen, a utility room and a cloakroom.
If our house were any smaller than this, we would be falling over each others toes, yet we are being told to downsize by people who live inmansions! (CanI be the only one who finds this ironical, nay, farcical?)
I'm talking about the very same people who allowed house prices to soar, by allowing easy lending.
The words 'cant' and 'hypocrisy' keep popping into my mind. I can't think why.
And here's what Chat might look like ( click on the image to see it bigger):
Over the last few months I've been invitedto venues all over South Wales to talk about my novel, 'Salt Blue'. I enjoy meeting people and listening to their reactions to the book.
One night, someone I didn't know butwho was going to a class in thebuilding where I was giving a talk, fell into step with me andasked what my book was about.
I explained that one of the themes is about identityand the need to find out who one is. As she seemed interested, I said the story was about a young girl whohad to leaveherhometown and family and move to America to find her independence. Very often, in order to avoid beingmistaken for our parents, we have toshow the world who we really are.
My companion nodded, then told me she'd re-located from one end of the country in order to marry her same-sex partner. Her family could not accept who she was so, sadly, she had made the decision to move away.
On another occasion,I talked about stresses we're aware of on some level, butrefuse to examine, so they continue to trouble us. Stella has dreams and nightmares and she's advised to take up knitting as a way of relaxing. Eventually, a friend helps herto look at the roots of her unease and accept what she has known all along.
It's not always easy talking like this to a group, because it's hard to gauge their reaction. Isaid theanswers todifficult questionscan be found if weallowourselves to find the solution.
After I'd finished and almost everyone had left the room, one of my listeners waited behind to tell me about an accident she had suffered a few years previously. The result of it was that she had developedflashbacks to a time in her life she would rather forget.
Isuggested she kept a 'dream' diary. Any dream that woke her up, or she remembered the next day, was to be written down. Once the dreamwas on paper she had to visualise it movingfrom hermind into the diary and waiting there.
When the diary was full I wondered if she might want to turn it intoa book. This is what she was hoping to do, she said.
Conversely,she might find she was tired of the past and would want to burn the diary and the memories.
This is the power of writing, theaccess it gives to one'sthoughts.As E.M. Forster said, 'How do I know what I think until I see what I say?'
The problem with writing honestly is that we reveal ourselves, but anything less is boring. Think of Samuel Pepys, still entertaining centuries later.
The latest 'View from Richmond Park' Carmarthen Town AFC football club column from the Carmarthen Journal -
Carmarthen Town AFC is calling a public meeting to discuss how the club can stay competitive in the Welsh Premier League.
Club chairman Gareth Jones said a public meeting would be held at the Carmarthen Town AFC Community Centre at Richmond Park at 7pm on Monday 7th November.
Mr Jones said: We are an ambitious football club. In fact, we are also proud to declare, We are more than just a football club because of our strong community links.
The ground and community centre developments are a testimony to this. The club has been in the Welsh Premier League for 15 years winning the Welsh Cup in 2007. As members of the Welsh Premier League, the club has represented our town and community in European competition in Denmark, Finland, Ireland and Norway.
It also runs Academy teams at under 12, 14, 16 and 19 level and last year we raised hundreds of pounds for local charities as part of our community programme.
However, to continue this ambition and compete in the Welsh Premier League there is a need to change the way the club is run. As supporters we have become complacent and, unless there is a resurrection of the passion of previous eras, Carmarthen Town AFC will struggle to survive on and off the field in the current challenging environment.
The club is grateful to the large number of individuals and businesses that have invested a great deal of time and money in Carmarthen Town AFC over the years but we have now reached a critical time in the clubs development.
The club is now run by a committed but small number of volunteers. After numerous attempts to attract more similarly dedicated individuals, with limited success, the general feeling is that the only way ahead is to hold an open meeting to discuss the future of the club.
This meeting is open to anyone who cares about Carmarthen Town AFC and has its best interests at heart. During the meeting there will be an opportunity to address the direction that the Club will take in the short and long term. This is far too important a decision to be made by the Executive Committee and needs to be discussed openly.
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Tote draw October 11 draw, winning numbers 11 and 39. The winner was Hefina Brown. The draw for a prize of 200 was being made on Tuesday night.
