Shakspeare made a mistake. The morning was bright and clear, and the
sun shone strong and powerfully, drawing up a light mist from a marsh
which lay between a part of the earl of Richmond's forces, and the
much larger army of the king. At an early hour in the morning, all was
bustle and preparation; and, notwithstanding a great inferiority in
point of numbers, a calm and steady cheerfulness reigned in Richmond's
army, which was not the case in the royal host. There each man looked
upon his neighbour with doubt; and rumours were current of emissaries,
from the enemy's camp, having been seen busily passing from tent to
tent, amongst the king's troops, which was evinced by the doggerel
lines fixed on the duke of Norfolk's pavilion, as well as by several
other circumstances which made a noise for a moment or two, but were
soon forgotten. The impression, however, existed and gained strength,
that much dissatisfaction reigned amongst the leaders; and when the
forces of Lord Stanley appeared on the one wing, and those of his
brother on the other, without advancing nearer than half a mile, fresh
doubts and suspicions arose.
The man[oe]uvres on both parts, before the action began, were few and
simple. A tardy sort of lethargy seemed to have fallen upon Richard;
and though he rode forth with a crown upon his helmet, as if desirous
of courting personal danger, he moved his men but little, till the day
was considerably advanced.
Richmond rode over the whole field in person accompanied by the earl
of Oxford, Sir William Brandon, Sir Gilbert Talbot, and Sir John
Savage, and caused the marsh to be examined and its depth tried with a
lance. He then commanded a considerable movement to the left, with a
slight advance of the right wing, so as to allow the extreme of the
line to rest upon the edge of the morass, with the position which he
thus took up fronting the north west. He was observed to smile when he
saw the position assumed by Lord Stanley, in front of the morass and
to his own right, commanding the whole of the open field, between the
two armies; and, immediately after, the earl of Oxford pointed out to
him another considerable body of troops, advanced to a spot exactly
facing those of Stanley; so that the ground enclosed between the four
lines appeared very like a tilt yard on a large scale.
Richmond nodded his head, merely saying, "They are Sir William's men."
Then, turning round, he demanded, "Which are Lord Chartley's troops?"
"Here, my lord," said a man from the ranks.
"I fear poor Chartley is not here to head them," said the earl of
Oxford, in a low tone, running his eye along the line.
"He was here last night," said Richmond, "and sent me a strange note,
saying he would be with me betimes this morning; but he has not come."
"My lord, the enemy is moving in two lines," said a horseman, riding
up; and, cantering back to the centre of his force, the rest of
Richmond's arrangements were soon made. His disposition in some
respects resembled that of his adversary. In two lines also his men
were ranged, having somewhat the advantage of the ground, but the
great advantage of the sun behind them, while the fierce rays shone
strong in the face of Richard's soldiers.
The earl of Oxford commanded the first division, Richmond himself the
second, Talbot one wing, and Sir John Savage the other; and all the
leaders knew that death awaited them if they were taken.
In what are called pitched battles, not brought on by skirmishing or
any accidental circumstance, but where parties meet with the full
determination of casting all upon the stake, there is generally a
short pause before the strife begins. For, perhaps, a minute, or a
minute and a half, after the troops were within less than a bow shot
distance of each other, and each could see the long line of faces
under the steel caps of the archers in the opposite ranks, there was a
dead silence; the trumpets ceased to sound; each bowman stood with his
arm and foot extended; the fiery cavalry reined in their horses; and
one might have heard a drop of rain, had it fallen upon the dry grass.
Then a baton was thrown up into the air on Richard's side; and every
man of the centre front line drew his bow string to his ear and sent
an arrow into the ranks of the enemy. Nor was this flight of missiles
without reply; for closer and faster still, though not so numerous,
fell the shafts from Richmond's little host amongst the adverse
troops. Their aim was truer too; for the eyes of his men were not
dazzled by the bright beams which poured into the faces of the enemy;
and many of the foe were seen to fall, while a good deal of confusion
spread along the line. Mounted on a tall horse, on the summit of a
little mound, towards the centre of the second line, Richmond could
see over the whole field; and, marking the disarray of the centre of
Richard's army, he said aloud, "Now, had we men enough for a charge on
that point, we might win the day at once."
"You and yours were lost, did you attempt it," said a deep voice near;
and, looking round, the earl saw a tall figure, mounted on a strong
black horse, with armour not the best polished in the world, though of
fine quality and workmanship, and bearing in his hand a sharp stout
lance, which, in addition to the long tapering point, carried the
blade of an axe, like that of a woodman, forming altogether a weapon
somewhat resembling an ordinary halbert. His horse was totally
without armour; even the saddle was of common leather but the stranger
bore the spurs of knighthood; and over his neck hung a gold collar,
and a star.
"Why say you so, sir knight?" demanded Richmond.
"Look to the right," replied the stranger; and, turning his eyes in
that direction, the earl beheld a horseman galloping at full speed
towards the centre of Richard's line, where the king evidently was in
person, while the large body of horse, commanded by the duke of
Norfolk, was seen gliding down between the marsh and the troops of
Lord Stanley. It was a moment of intense anxiety; but at the same
instant Chartley's squadrons of horse were seen to fall back a little,
in good order, so as to face the road leading round the morass; and
Stanley's whole force wheeled suddenly on its right, so as to join the
earl's line, and nearly hem in the duke of Norfolk, between it and the
marsh.
Richard's cavalry instantly halted and retreated in perfect array,
just in time to save themselves from destruction. They did not escape
without a charge however; and at the same time, the two front lines of
the armies advancing upon each other, the battle raged hand to hand
all along the field.
It was just at this moment, that coming up from the rear, a little to
the left of the spot where the earl of Richmond stood, rode forward a
young knight in splendid armour, mounted on a beautiful grey horse. By
his side was a man no longer young, though still in the prime of life,
totally unarmed, even without sword or dagger; and behind came ten
spears wearing the colours of Lord Chartley. The young nobleman paused
for an instant, gazing over the field, and the strange confused sight
presented by a battle, at a period when cannon were little used and no
clouds of smoke obscured the view, extending over a line of more than
half a mile. Here squadrons of horse were seen charging the enemy's
line; there two cavaliers seemed to have sought each other out in
single combat; in one place a company of foot was pushing on with the
levelled pike; in another, the archers with their short swords were
striving hand to hand; the banners and pennons waved in the wind,
fluttered, and rose and fell; and long and repeated blasts of the
trumpet sounded to the charge, and animated the soldiers to the fight.
It was a wild, a sad, a savage, but an exciting scene; and Chartley's
face, as he gazed with his visor up, looked like that of an eager
young horse, furious to start upon a course.
"There is the earl, Chartley," said Sir William Arden. "That is his
standard. The taller one in front must be the man."
Chartley instantly turned his horse, and rode up to Richmond's side.
"I am late upon the field, my lord," he said, "but I will make up for
lost time. I went to save my noble friend, Sir William Arden here,
from the headsman's axe. I beseech you keep him with you; for you will
find his counsel good, and he is unarmed. Whither shall I go?"
"Lord Chartley, I presume," said Richmond; "a gallant soldier never
comes too late to be of glorious use. There, straight forward on your
path is your noble friend, the earl of Oxford. I beseech you give him
help. He is sore pressed and terribly outnumbered."
"Follow!" cried Chartley, turning to his men and raising his arm; and
down he dashed into the thickest of the fight.
Small though the aid was, the effect was soon apparent. Some ground
which had been lost was regained in a instant; the first line of
Richard's troops was pressed back in the centre. The banner of Lord
Oxford made way in advance; but just then Sir William Brandon
exclaimed, "Richard is coming down with all his power, my lord."
"Then must we not be behind," replied Richmond. "Advance the banner,
Brandon! Good men and true, keep your men back yet a while, till you
receive command. Then down upon the boar, and pin him to the earth;
for I will leave my bones upon the field or win this day." Thus saying,
he rode on towards a spot which had been left vacant in the struggle
which was going on; and those who were above could see that a group of
some twenty or thirty persons from the enemy's side moved down as if
to meet him. The greater part, however, paused where the two lines
were still striving man to man, some engaging in the combat, some
gazing idly forward.
One, man, however, with two or three pages running by his side, burst
from the rest like the lightning from a cloud. He was covered with
gorgeous armour; his mighty horse was sheathed in steel; and circling
round his helmet, beneath the waving plume, appeared the royal crown
of England. Straight towards Richmond he dashed, trampling down a foot
soldier in his way, and rising the gentle slope, with his lance in the
rest, without the slightest relaxation of his horse's speed.
"Mine, mine!" cried Sir William Brandon. "Mine to win a coronet!" and,
giving the standard to another, he couched his lance and bore down to
meet the king. But that unerring hand failed not. The eye was but too
keen. Straight in the throat, the point of Richard's spear struck the
standard-bearer, and hurled him dead upon the plain, while the
knight's own lance shivered on the king's corslet. Brandon's horse
also rolled upon the ground, but Richard leaped his charger over it
with a shout, and spurred on.
Without asking leave, Sir John Cheney darted forth to meet him. His
fate, however, was but little better; for, though not slain, he was
hurled wounded from the saddle in an instant. But at that moment
Richard was met by a new adversary; for, as he was rapidly approaching
the spot where Richmond stood, the tall knight, whom I have mentioned,
sprang from his unarmed horse and threw himself on foot in the king's
way. Richard checked up his horse for an instant at the unexpected
sight, and dropped the point of his lance, to strike this new
adversary in the face; but ere he could accomplish it, with a
tremendous sweep of both his arms, the knight struck him on the side
of the helmet. The lacings gave way. The casque and crown fell off;
and a deep stream of gore flowed down the pale face, which was seen,
as he hung for a moment in the stirrups. The horse rushed on, but the
king soon dropped upon the field; and three or four footmen, springing
on him, dispatched him with their daggers.
The tall knight leaned for an instant on the staff of his weapon, and
looked up and down the field; and then, as if he had gathered all in
that brief glance, he exclaimed, in a loud and vehement voice. "Now,
earl of Richmond, gaze not on the dead, but on to support the living!
Sir William Stanley is charging the enemy in the flank. On with your
whole force, and the day is yours. If not, it may be lost still. Give
me my horse, boy."
The order was instantly given; the whole force of Richmond moved down
the hill; and though the struggle was protracted for some twenty
minutes longer, it was no longer doubtful. All was confusion indeed,
in the ranks of Richard; but Norfolk and many other noble gentlemen
struggled to the last, and died without yielding an inch of ground.
Northumberland took no part in the fight; and others fled soon, while
others again remained to be made prisoners; but steadily the earl of
Richmond's line advanced, till the whole of Richard's host either lay
on Bosworth field, or were in full flight across the country.
At the end of two hours from the commencement of the battle the
trumpet sounded the recall, and Richmond's tent was set up, on the
spot where Richard had commanded at the beginning of the day. The
curtains were drawn up, and knights and noblemen crowded round, while
the field was searched, to ascertain the numbers and the quality of
the slain. Litters, formed hastily of lances laid across, were seen
moving about the plain, bearing the wounded from the field of carnage;
and many a group might be observed, in distant parts of the prospect,
engaged probably in less pious offices.
Richmond, now on foot, and with his casque laid aside, stood for
several minutes gazing silently on the scene before him; and, oh, who
shall tell what passed through his mind at that moment? How often has
the flood of success a petrifying effect upon the heart! and,
doubtless, it was so with him; but he had then just stepped into those
Lethe waters, which so often drown in dull oblivion all the nobler and
more generous feelings of the soul.
Nobody ventured to break upon his silence; for it was evident to all
that strong emotions were busy at his heart, till, at length, a voice
without, said--
"Lord Stanley!" and many others took it up, repeating, "Stanley,
Stanley!"
Richmond took a step forward; but ere he reached the verge of the tent
Stanley himself appeared. He bore in his hands the royal croft, which
Richard had carried on his helmet, and, without a word, he advanced
straight to Richmond, and placed it on his brows. Then, bending the
knee, he said, aloud--
"Hail, king of England! Long live our sovereign lord, King Henry the
Seventh!"
Richmond embraced him warmly, while a shout rent the air, and some
words passed between the two which no ear heard. Then advancing, with
the crown upon his head, Henry graciously thanked those around him for
their aid and service, adding a few words upon the glorious event of
the day.
"There is one, however," he continued "whom I see not here, and to
whom double thanks are due. I cannot name him, for I know him not; but
his hand defended my life when two gallant gentlemen had fallen before
my enemy, and his hand slew the usurper of the crown I now bear. He
wore round his neck the collar and star of some foreign order, and--"
"He is fearfully wounded, sire," said Lord Chartley, who had just come
up. "That litter, which you see yonder, is bearing him, at his own
request, to the abbey of St. Clare. He earnestly besought me to
entreat your grace, if your time would permit, to pass thither for a
brief space, on your march. He is a man of high and noble birth,
allied to a royal house; but I must say no more. The rest he will tell
you, if he live till you arrive."
"Noble Lord Chartley, to you too I owe great thanks," said Henry; "and
they shall be paid in coin that you will like full well. But this
noble gentleman has taken strong possession of my mind. How did he
fall?--I saw him late in the battle, safe and foremost."
"True, sire," replied Chartley; "he was before Sir George Talbot and
myself, as we followed the last troops of the enemy which kept
together, to disperse them. Then, however, just on the brow of the
hill, the young Lord Fulmer turned with his band, and bore my noble
friend down with his lance while he was contending with two men in
front."
"But you avenged him, Chartley," said Sir George Talbot; "for you
carried the young serpent back on your lance's point, like an eel on
an eel-spear. He will never take odds against a gallant knight more."
"I know not that," said Chartley; "for I saw him remounted and led
away between two servants. But, if your grace will visit the noble
gentleman of whom you spoke, I will forward at once and bear the
tidings after him."
"I will not fail," replied Henry; "'tis but a mile or two about, I
believe; and, as soon as we have taken some order here, I ride thither
ere I go to Leicester."
Chartley thanked him and retired; and the king, calling a page,
whispered to him some brief words, adding aloud, "To Tamworth then,
with all speed. Say, there must be no delay--no, not a moment."