[Sidenote: The earle of Richmond remoueth his power to Tamworth.]
The earle of Richmond raised his campe, and departed from Lichfield
to the towne of Tamworth thereto néere adioining, and in the mid
way passing, there saluted him sir Walter Hungerford and sir Thomas
Bourchier knights, and diuerse other which yéelded and submitted
themselues to his pleasure. For they, being aduertised that king
Richard had them in suspicion and gelousie, a little beyond Stonie
Stratford left and forsooke priuilie their capteine Robert Brakenberie;
and wandering by night, and in maner by vnknowne paths, and vncerteine
waies searching, at the last came at earle Henrie. Diuerse other noble
personages, which inwardlie hated king Richard woorse than a tode or a
serpent, did likewise resort to him with all their power and strength,
wishing and working his destruction, who otherwise would haue béene the
instrument of their casting away.
[Sidenote: A strange chance that happened to the earle of Richmond.]
There happened in this progression to the earle of Richmond a strange
chance worthie to be noted. For albeit he was a man of valiant courage,
& that his armie increased, and dailie more and more he waxed mightier
and stronger; yet he was not a litle afeard, bicause he could in no
wise be assured of his father in law Thomas lord Stanleie, which for
feare of the destruction of the lord Strange his sonne (as you haue
heard) as yet inclined to neither partie. For if he had gone to the
earle, and that notified to king Richard, his sonne had béene shortlie
executed. Wherefore he accompanied with twentie light horssemen
lingered in his iournie, as a man musing & imagining what was best to
be doone. And the more to aggrauate his pensiuenesse, it was shewed
him, that king Richard was at hand with a strong power & a great armie.
[Sidenote: The earle of Richmond put to a hard shift.]
While he thus heauilie dragged behind his host, the whole armie came
before the towne of Tamwoorth; and when he for the déepe darknesse
could not perceiue the steps of them that passed on before, and had
wandered hither & thither, séeking after his companie and yet not once
hearing anie noise or whispering of them; he turned to a verie little
village, being about thrée miles from his armie taking great thought,
and much fearing least he should be espied, and so trapped by king
Richards scoutwatch. There he taried all night, not once aduenturing
to aske or demand a question of any creature, he being no more amazed
with the ieopardie & perill that was passed, than with this present
chance, sore feared that it shuld be a prognostication or signe of
some infortunate plage afterward to succéed. As he was not merie being
absent from his armie, so likewise his armie much maruelled, and no
lesse mourned for his sudden absence.
[Sidenote: The lord Stanleie the earle of Richmond & others méet,
embrace, and consult.]
The next morning earlie in the dawning of the day he returned, and by
the conduct of good fortune, espied and came to his armie, excusing
himselfe not to haue gone out of the way by ignorance: but that for a
policie (deuised for the nonce) he went from his campe to receiue some
glad message from certeine of his priuie fréends and secret alies. This
excuse made, he priuilie departed againe from his host to the towne
of Aderston, where the lord Stanleie and sir William his brother with
their bands were abiding. There the earle came first to his father
in law, in a litle close, where he saluted him, and sir William his
brother: and after diuerse and fréendlie imbracings, each reioised
of the state of other, and suddenlie were surprised with great ioy,
comfort, and hope of fortunate successe in all their affaires and
dooings. Afterward they consulted togither how to giue battell to king
Richard if he would abide, whome they knew not to be farre off with an
huge host.
[Sidenote: The principals of K. Richards power fall from him.]
In the euening of the same day, sir Iohn Sauage, sir Brian Sanford, sir
Simon Digbie, and manie other, leauing king Richard, turned and came
to the part of the earle of Richmond, with an elect companie of men.
Which refusall of king Richards part, by men of such experience, did
augment and increase both the good hope, and the puissance of the earle
of Richmond. In the meane season, king Richard which was appointed now
to finish his last labor by the very diuine iustice & prouidence of God
(which called him to condigne punishment for his mischiefous deserts)
marched to a place méet for two battels to incounter, by a village
called Bosworth, not farre from Leicester: and there he pitched his
field on a hill called Anne Beame, refreshed his souldiers, and tooke
his rest.
[Sidenote: The dreame of king Richard the third foretelling him of his
end.]
The fame went, that he had the same night a dreadfull and terrible
dreame: for it séemed to him being asléepe, that he did sée diuerse
images like terrible diuels, which pulled and haled him, not suffering
him to take anie quiet or rest. The which strange vision not so
suddenlie strake his heart with a sudden feare, but it stuffed his head
and troubled his mind with manie busie and dreadfull imaginations. For
incontinent after, his heart being almost damped, he prognosticated
before the doubtfull chance of the battell to come; not vsing the
alacritie and mirth of mind and countenance as he was accustomed to doo
before he came toward the battell. And least that it might be suspected
that he was abashed for feare of his enimies, and for that cause looked
so pitiouslie; he recited and declared to his familiar fréends in the
morning his wonderfull vision and fearefull dreame.
But I thinke this was no dreame, but a punction and pricke of his
sinfull conscience: for the conscience is so much more charged and
aggréeued, as the offense is greater & more heinous in degrée. [So that
king Richard, by this reckoning, must néeds haue a woonderfull troubled
mind, because the déeds that he had doone, as they were heinous and
vnnaturall, so did they excite and stirre vp extraordinarie motions of
trouble and vexations in his conscience.] Which sting of conscience,
although it strike not alwaie; yet at the last daie of extreame life,
it is woont to shew and represent to vs our faults and offenses,
and the paines and punishments which hang ouer our heads for the
committing of the same, to the intent that at that instant, we for our
deserts being penitent and repentant, maie be compelled (lamenting and
bewailing our sinnes like forsakers of this world) iocund to depart out
of this mischéefe life.
[Sidenote: King Richard bringeth all his men into the plaine.]
[Sidenote: The duke of Norfolke and the earle of Surrie on K. Richards
side.]
Now to returne againe to our purpose. The next daie after, king Richard
being furnished with men & all ablements of warre, bringing all his
men out of their campe into the plaine, ordered his fore-ward in a
maruellous length, in which he appointed both horsmen and footmen, to
the intent to imprint in the hearts of them that looked a farre off, a
sudden terror and deadlie feare, for the great multitude of the armed
souldiers: and in the fore-front he placed the archers like a strong
fortified trench or bulworke. Ouer this battell was capteine, Iohn
duke of Norffolke, with whome was Thomas earle of Surrie his sonne.
After this long vant-gard, followed king Richard himselfe with a strong
companie of chosen and approoued men of warre, hauing horssemen for
wings on both sides of his battell.
[Sidenote: The lord Stanleie refuseth to set the earles men in battell
araie.]
After that the earle of Richmond was departed from the communication
of his fréends (as you haue heard before) he began to be of a better
stomach, and of a more valiant courage, and with all diligence pitched
his field iust by the campe of his enimies, and there he lodged that
night. In the morning betimes, he caused his men to put on their
armour, and apparell themselues readie to fight and giue battell; and
sent vnto the lord Stanleie (which was now come with his band into a
place indifferent betwéene both the armies) requiring him with his men
to approch néere to his armie, and to helpe to set the souldiers in
arraie. But he answered that the earle should set his owne men in good
order of battell, while he would arraie his companie, and come to him
in time conuenient. Which answer made otherwise than the earle thought
or would haue iudged, considering the oportunitie of the time & the
weight of the businesse. And although he was ther withall a little
vexed, & began some what to hang the head; yet he without anie time
delaieng, compelled of necessitie, after this maner instructed and
ordered his men.
[Sidenote: The earle setteth his men in order and appointeth
chéefteins.]
He made his fore-ward somewhat single and slender, according to the
small number of his people. In the front he placed the archers, of
whome he made capteine Iohn earle of Oxenford. To the right wing of
the battell he appointed sir Gilbert Talbot to be the leader. To the
left wing, he assigned sir Iohn Sauage who had brought thither with
him a crue of right able personages, clad in white coats and hoods,
which mustered in the eies of their aduersaries right brimlie. The
earle of Richmond himselfe, with aid of the lord Stanleie, gouerned
the battell, accompanied with the earle of Penbroke, hauing a good
companie of horssemen, and a small number of footmen. For all his
whole number excéeded not fiue thousand men, beside the power of the
Stanleies, wherof thrée thousand were in the field, vnder the standard
of sir William Stanleie. The kings number was double so much and more.
When both these armies were thus ordered, and all men readie to set
forward, king Richard called his chiefteins togither, and to them said
as followeth.
The oration of king Richard the third to the chiefteins of his armie.
[Sidenote: King Richard iustifieth himselfe and his gouernement.]
My most faithfull and assured fellowes, most trustie & welbeloued
fréends, & elected capteins, by whose wisedome and policie I haue
obteined the crowne, and type of this famous realme, and noble region:
by whose puissance & valiantnesse I haue inioid and possessed the
state roiall & dignitie of the same, maugre the ill will and seditious
attempts of all my cankered enimies, and insidious aduersaries: by
whose prudent & politike counsell I haue so gouerned my realme, people,
subiects, that I haue omitted nothing apperteining to the office of a
iust prince: nor you haue pretermitted nothing belonging to the dutie
of wise and sage councellors. So that I maie saie, and trulie affirme,
that your approoued fidelitie & tried constancie, maketh me to beléeue
firmelie, and thinke that I am an vndoubted king, and an indubitate
prince.
And although in the adeption and obteining of the garland, I being
seduced, and prouoked by sinister councell, and diabolicall temptation,
did commit a wicked and detestable act: yet I haue with streict
penance and salt tears (as I trust) expiated & cléerelie purged the
same offense: which abhominable crime I require you of frendship as
cléerelie to forget, as I dailie remember to deplore and lament the
same. If ye will euen now diligentlie call to remembrance in what case
and perplexitie we doo stand; and in what doubtfull perill we be all
intrapped; I doubt not but you in heart will thinke, and with mouth
confesse, that if euer amitie and faith preuailed betwéene prince and
subiects, or betwéene subiect and subiect; or if euer bond of alegiance
obliged the vassall to loue and serue his naturall souereigne lord;
or if anie obligation of dutie bound anie prince to aid & defend his
subiects; all these loues, bonds, and duties of necessitie are now this
day to be tried, shewed, and put in experience.
[Sidenote: He speaketh opprobriouslie of the earle of Richmond.]
For if wise men saie true (as they doo not lie) there is some policie
in getting, but much more in kéeping; the one being but fortunes
chance, & the other high wit and policie. For which cause, I with you,
and you with me, must néeds this day take labour and paine, to kéepe
and defend with force, that preheminence and possession, which by your
prudent deuises I haue gotten & obteined. I doubt not but you know how
the diuell (continuall enimie to humane nature, disturber of concord,
& sower of sedition) hath entered into the heart of an vnknowne
Welshman (whose father I neuer knew, nor him personallie saw) exciting
him to aspire and couet our realme, crowne, and dignitie, and thereof
cléerelie to depriue and spoile vs and our posteritie. Ye sée further,
how a companie of traitors, théeues, outlawes, and runnagates of our
owne nation, be aiders and partakers of his feat and enterprise, readie
at hand to ouercome and oppresse vs.
You sée also, what a number of beggerlie Britans and faint-hearted
Frenchmen be with him arriued to destroie vs, our wiues and children.
Which imminent mischéefs and apparant inconueniences, if we will
withstand & repell, we must liue togither as brethren, fight togither
like lions, & feare not to die togither like men. And obseruing and
kéeping this rule and precept, beléeue me, the fearefull hare neuer
fled faster before the gréedie greihound, nor the sillie larke before
the sparrowhawke, nor yet the simple shéepe before the rauenous woolfe;
than your proud bragging aduersaries, astonied and amazed with the
onelie sight of your manlie visages, will flée, run, and skir out of
the field. For if you consider and wiselie ponder all things in your
mind, you shall perceiue, that we haue manifest causes, and apparant
tokens of triumph and victorie.
[Sidenote: The K. would persuade his capteins that the earle of
Richmond is not warrior.]
And to begin with the erle of Richmond capteine of this rebellion, he
is a Welsh milkesop, a man of small courage, and of lesse experience in
martiall acts and feats of warre, brought vp by my moothers meanes: and
mine, like a captiue in a close cage in the court of Francis duke of
Britaine; and neuer saw armie, nor was exercised in martiall affaires:
by reason wherof he neither can, nor is able by his owne will or
experience to guide or rule an hoast. For in the wit and policie of the
capteine consisteth the chéefe adeption of the victorie, and ouerthrow
of the enimies. Secondarilie feare not, but put awaie all doubts; for
when the traitors and runnagates of our realme, shall sée vs with
banner displaied come against them, remembring their oth, promise, and
fidelitie made vnto vs, as to their souereigne lord and annointed king;
they shall be so pricked and stoong in the bottome of their scrupulous
consciences, that they for verie remorse and dread of the diuine
plague, will either shamefullie flée, or humblie submit themselues to
our grace and mercie.
[Sidenote: Frenchmen & Britans great bosters small rosters.]
And as for the Frenchmen and Britans, their valiantnesse is such,
that our noble progenitors, and your valiant parts haue them oftener
vanquished and ouercome in one moneth, than they in the beginning
imagined possiblie to compasse and finish in a whole yeare. What will
you make of them? braggers without audacitie, drunckards without
discretion, ribalds without reason, cowards without resisting, and in
conclusion, the most effeminate and lasciuious people that euer shewed
themselues in front of battell; ten times more couragious to flée
& escape, than once to assault the breast of our strong & populous
armie. Wherefore considering all these aduantages, expell out of your
thoughts all douts, auoid out of your minds all feare; and like valiant
champions aduance foorth your standards, & assaie whether your enimies
can decide and trie the title of battell by dint of sword. Aduance (I
say againe) forward my capteines, in whome lacketh neither policie,
wisedome, nor yet puissance. Euerie one giue but one sure stripe, &
suerlie the iournie is ours. What preuaileth a handfull to a whole
realme?
[Sidenote: K. Richards vaine confidence and bootlesse courage.]
Desiring you (for the loue that you beare to me) and the affection that
you haue to your natiue and naturall countrie, and to the safegard of
your prince & your selues, that you will this daie take to you your
accustomed courage and couragious spirits, for the defense and safegard
of vs all. And as for me, I assure you, this daie I will triumph by
glorious victorie, or suffer death for immortall fame. For they be
maimed and out of the palace of fame disgraded, dieng without renowme,
which doo not as much prefer and exalt the perpetuall honour of their
natiue countrie, as their owne mortall and transitorie life. Now saint
George to borow, let vs set forward, and remember well, that I am he
which shall with high aduancements reward and preferre the valiant and
hardie champions, and punish and torment the shamefull cowards, and
dreadfull dastards.
* * * * *
This exhortation incouraged all such as fauoured him; but such as
were present (more for dread than loue) kissed them openlie, whome
they inwardlie hated. Other sware outwardlie to take part with such,
whose death they secretlie compassed, and inwardlie imagined. Other
promised to inuade the kings enimies, which fled and fought with fierce
courage against the king. Other stood still and looked on, intending
to take part with the victors and ouercommers. So was his people
to him vnsure and vnfaithfull at his end, as he was to his nephues
vntrue and vnnaturall in his beginning. [How then was it possible that
this princes regiment could long stand, séeing the preseruation and
prorogation of his reigne consisted not in the loue of his subiects?
In place wherof bicause feare (yea seruile and forced feare succéeded)
he was the sooner forsaken of his people, whose harts fell from him as
isicles from a penthouse in a sunnie daie; and in this case the poet
saith truelie, and was well worthie of credit when he craued it, saieng: