Confusion and agitation pervaded England from end to end. Men gathered
together in the streets and talked. Couriers passed between house and
house. The fat citizen gossipped with his neighbour, over the events
of the day, and looked big and important, as he doled out the news to
his better half at home. The peasantry too were moved by feelings of
their own. The village green and the alehouse had their politicians.
The good wife looked anxious, lest Hob should be taken for a soldier;
and the old men and women recalled the days when the feuds of York and
Lancaster were at their height, and hoped that such times were not
coming again.
Still, however, the news spread far and wide, that the earl of
Richmond had landed on the Welsh coast, and was marching towards
London to grasp the crown. From castle to castle, and city to city,
and cottage to cottage, the rumour rolled on. He was there--actually
there, upon English ground; the long-expected blow was struck; the
long anticipated enterprise had begun.
Busy emissaries, too, whispered in every ear, that Richmond was
affianced to the heiress of the house of York. There was no longer a
question of York and Lancaster. It was no longer a fratricidal war
between the descendants of the same ancestor; but York and Lancaster
were united; and the long rival factions took their stand, and
unfurled their banners, side by side, against one who was equally
inimical to both. Every evil act which Richard had committed was
called to memory, denounced, and exaggerated. False facts were
fabricated, many of which have been transmitted to the present day, to
blacken his character, and misrepresent his conduct. His views, his
deeds, his very person, were all distorted, and the current of popular
opinion was turned strongly against him. Still the prudent, the timid,
and the idle, counselled together, and prepared to follow a
temporising policy.
"Take my advice," said an old man to his neighbours, "keep quite
quiet; take part with neither; let Lancaster cut York's throat or York
Lancaster's, or both join to destroy Richard, we have nothing to do
with such things. We shall suffer enough, whichever wins the day; but
better to suffer in pocket than to die or get wounds in a cause which
concerns us very little. One king is for us just as good as another;
and as to the question of right, as no doctors have settled it, how
should we be able to decide? Keep quiet, and let them fight it out
amongst themselves."
Such was very commonly the feeling amongst the lower classes of
the people; and many of a higher rank were moved by the same
considerations. "If we fight for Richmond," they thought, "he may lose
a battle; and then we are at the mercy of Richard. If on the contrary
we march under the banners of Richard, he may be defeated, and
Richmond have our fate in his hands."
The higher nobility, indeed, pursued a different course. They began to
gather men; they made preparations for war; but they kept as secret as
possible, in what direction they intended to act. They were in general
very silent as to their intentions, though exceedingly busy and active
in their preparation; and constant communications were passing from
one to the other, the nature of which was not discovered.
The only one who seemed inactive in the realm was the king himself.
He, so energetic and daring in the camp and the field, so astute and
cautious in the council-chamber, for a time seemed to do very little.
The first news of Richmond's armament, indeed, had almost cast him
into a state of frenzy; but, when he learned that the earl had landed
at Milford-haven with but three thousand men, his rage appeared to
sink into contempt. He treated his coming as a mere bravado, and
seemed to scorn the display of any extraordinary measures against so
pitiful an attack.
"Sir Walter Herbert will give a good account of him," he said, when
some of his courtiers spoke of the invasion. "Herbert has full five
thousand men, choice soldiers, ready and fit to rid our soil of these
French weeds, or I know nought of gardening. We shall soon hear news
of him."
He did soon hear news; but it was that Richmond marched on unopposed
through the land, that he had been joined by Rice ap Thomas, with a
thousand men, that Savage had gone over to him, that Herbert made no
movement to oppose his progress, that Wales was rising rapidly in his
favour, that friends and supplies were pouring into his camp, and that
he was rapidly advancing upon Shrewsbury. Then it was that Richard not
only felt the necessity of energy, but became sensible of his danger,
and began to act with that fierce and impatient eagerness which had
formerly characterized him. His messengers hastened over all the
country, calling every one he could count upon to arms, and ordering
those who were doubtful to join him at Nottingham, without an hour's
delay. Norfolk and Northumberland were summoned in the same terms; but
while the one hastened to obey, with all the promptitude of zealous
attachment, the other made no professions, but slowly raised men, and
marched with tardy steps, into such a position that he could act as he
judged fit, whenever the moment for action came. Catesby hurried up
with all the men that he could raise; and many others came in with
extraordinary speed; for though disaffection had spread wide, it was
by no means universal; and many of those who were discontented were
not willing to aid in hurling Richard from the throne. The army
increased in number daily; and when the king compared his own force
with that of Richmond, even after the latter had reached Shrewsbury,
and had been joined by the young earl of that name, and the Lord
Talbot, he laughed all fears of danger to scorn, and prepared to cast
himself in the way of his enemy, in whatever direction he might bend
his steps. Lord Calverly was sent to raise all his tenantry and
dependants; and, amongst others to whom messengers were despatched, to
call them immediately to the aid of the crown, were Fulmer and
Chartley. The courier sent to the former found him on the full march
from Dorsetshire, and returned to Richard with this reply to his
summons--
"The Lord Fulmer craves the king's pardon, for moving without his
commands; but having learned that the earl of Richmond had landed in
Wales, he thought he could not be far wrong in marching at once, to
offer his sword and his troops to his sovereign's service."
Richard was surrounded by many persons, when these words were
reported; but shortly after, he whispered to Ratcliffe, who stood near
him, saying--
"This youth Fulmer deserves well. He shall have his bride. But not
yet, Ratcliffe--not yet. We must crush this Breton-nurtured young
Richmond, and then we will have gay days and bridals. The girl must be
brought to a place of security. We will send her to York."
"But your grace forgets that she is not at the abbey," replied
Ratcliffe, who took the king's words for a command. "She must be
found, before she can be sent to York."
Richard smiled, with one of his dark looks of serpent subtlety, in
which a slight touch of scorn mingled with an expression of triumphant
cunning.
"She needs not to be found," he answered; "but what said the young
Lord Chartley to our summons? Has he returned no answer?"
"He called for his horse at the first word, sire," replied Ratcliffe,
"and said, that in four days his tenants should be in the field."
"Impetuous ever!" said Richard; but then he fell into a fit of musing,
and his brow grew somewhat dark. "Four days," he repeated, "four days
That argues preparation. He has a two days' journey, speed as he will.
His tenants shall be in the field--Ay, but for whom? Send some one
after him. Bid him join us at Broughton, and let him be well watched."
"At Broughton, sire?" said Ratcliffe, in a doubtful tone.
"Yes," answered Richard; "we march tomorrow for Leicester. At
Broughton we have him at our will. Have you heard from Lord Stanley,
or his brother, Sir William?"
"He is true, I doubt not, sire," replied Ratcliffe; "the last news was
that he had fallen back somewhat from Lichfield, upon the advance of
Richmond, not having force to oppose him, since the defection of Sir
George Talbot and the earl of Shrewsbury. But 'tis said his brother
William is marching to join him with two thousand men, and they will
fight the traitor as soon as they meet."
"That must not be," said Richard, with a stern thoughtful look. "If
they win the field, a subject gains the honour which the crown should
have. If they fail, they plume this gosshawk's wings with the eagle
pens of victory, and many will draw to him after a won battle, many
fall from us. There is ever, Ratcliffe, a light and fickle crowd, that
flutters round success, heedless of right or merit, as clouds gather
round the rising sun to gild their empty vapours in the beams that
suck them up ere it be noon. No, no! We will have no one either snatch
Richmond from our hand, or try and fail. Bid them fall back as he
advances, till, with our kingly force, we overwhelm him like a rat in
a torrent. Send off a post to-night; and, in the meanwhile, watch well
the young Lord Strange. His neck is better security than his good
father's faith. We will to Leicester early, before the army. But it
must not lag behind. One day's march lost, and Richmond would slip by.
He must not reach St. Paul's."
Thus saying, he turned to the rest of the courtiers, and spoke of
other things.