CHAPTER XLIII.
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.