CHAPTER XXVII
THE FIELD OF BOSWORTH
On the fourth day following, and late in the afternoon, we at last found the camp of Lord Stanley.
Once we came near running our heads through the noose, and there ending all our hopes and fears.
It was just as we were nearing the town of Bosworth, in our search for Stanley's force, that we fell in with a straggling body of yeomen and some few men-at-arms. I asked them to direct me to Lord Stanley's camp.
"Straight ahead, sir, until thou comest unto the first turning to the right. Here turn, and that road will take ye unto your destination, which is the Town of Bosworth," replied their leader.
I thanked him and rode on, following his directions.
Soldiers of all ranks and arms were hurrying along by every road.
Presently we drew in sight of Bosworth. The town seemed filled with soldiers, and others were arriving at every moment.
"Ho! sirrah, canst thou inform me whose force it is that occupies yonder town?" I asked of a straggler by my side.
The fellow stared at me in surprise for a breathing space and then answered:—"Why, his Majesty King Richard's, to be sure. Thou didst not think that Richmond had taken it, didst thou?"
"Hill!" ejaculated Michael.
I came near to betraying mine emotion; but controlled myself in time and asked:—"But where doth Lord Stanley keep his camp?"
"To the North and West about a mile, sir."
I muttered a prayer of thanksgiving for mine escape from falling into the hands of mine enemies, and wheeling our horses about we retraced our steps until we came upon the road that we had left at the direction of the yeoman. This we pursued for some little distance, and then we beheld Lord Stanley's camp before us.
We rode up to before the noble Lord's tent and to the guard before the door I gave my name and asked to be admitted.
The soldier had scarcely entered when out rushed Harleston.
"Ah! my dear friends!" he cried to Michael and me, "how is it that I have the delight of having ye both here? Methought ye were with the noble Earl," and he nodded to the westward.
"But why are ye so glum; hath aught gone amiss?" he asked, with an anxious look.
"Ay, Frederick, everything has gone amiss." And then I told him all the sad news.
When I had finished he stood gazing thoughtfully before him. Then he put his hand upon my shoulder, and tenderly he said:—
"I need not tell thee to be brave; that thou ever art. But console thee I may. Bethink thee now of that which shall happen to-morrow. Then shalt thou have thy revenge; for the noble Richmond is not one to let go, with his head upon his shoulders, such an one as Catesby."
"Ay, but think of that which may happen to my dear Hazel ere we have Catesby in our power."
"Nay, thou must not think her peril greater than it is."
"How is it possible for it to be greater than it is? Is she not in that fiend's power?"
"That I grant you. But remember that Catesby must be greatly occupied with his master's business, and shall have short time in which to inflict his plague-like presence on her.
"Her, no doubt, he hath sent to some place of safety, where she shall remain until after the battle.
"The Usurper's friends all think that their victory is assured, and that Richmond, ere sunset to-morrow, shall be without a head. Little do they suspect that Northumberland's forces will move not to foul Richard's aid; or that Lord Stanley here, and his brother there, will join with the noble Richmond.
"Catesby will take his time and, when thou art dead, the which he thinks thou soon shalt be, he'll go and gently woo the Lady Hazel. This doth Catesby intend to do, or else I do know nothing of the man."
"Dost thou think thus, indeed, my friend; or do you say these words that thou mayst comfort me with false hopes?" I asked, as I trembled with hope and fear.
"Verily do I believe that which I said will prove to be the case."
"Thanks, thanks! my friend. Thou knowest not the load that thou hast taken from my heart. What, oh what could I do without the aid of thy clear insight into the motives and the thoughts of all men?"
"Nay, nay, flatter me not," he replied, with a depreciating smile; "thou hast the same, if not a better, judgment, if thou wouldst but be calm and use it."
"Jist wait till to-morrow, and Master Catesby 'll fale the weight o' moy hand," growled Michael, whose features still wore their look of grim determination.
Lord Stanley received me most cordially, and expressed his regret at my great misfortune in falling into the trap set with such prodigious skill by Catesby.
"Do but be patient, Sir Walter," said he, in that kindly voice of his, "to-morrow's work shall tell a different tale. Richard doth despise his foe, and his great conceit doth cause him to underestimate the hatred his subjects have for him.
"I have a scar upon my head, the which must be revenged. Besides, he hath taken my son, George Stanley, to keep as an hostage for my loyalty. That I may save my son's life it shall be necessary for me to hold back my forces from taking part against the boar, until such time as he doth engage with Richmond. Then shall the tide of battle change, and England shall be freed of tyranny."
That night, Harleston, Michael, and I, all occupied the one tent, and again was the tournament brought afresh to my mind, and with it an even more intense hatred of my powerful foe, which I now felt I would soon have within my power to crush. With the sweet thoughts of a speedy vengeance for all my wrongs, I at length fell into a restless sleep, from which I was awakened by the shrill blast of the startling trumpet.
The day was just dawning; but with no great cheer of brightness. The great hollow plain of Redmoor looked dark and misty, as though it did dislike and dreaded the shock of battle that soon was to disturb its gloomy, brooding stillness.
When we had breakfasted and armed, the sun had risen sufficiently high—though still did he remain behind a thick and dreary covering—to enable us to watch the movements of the two opposing armies.
The shape of this battle-field—as ye all do know—is that of a shallow saucer, with one side chipped out, or flattened.
From the right of us Richmond's army, numbering some six thousand men, all told, advanced slowly down the gentle slope to meet the tyrant and his force of some twelve thousand, or thereabouts, approaching from the other side.
We now saw that Stanley had well chosen his ground for the successful carrying out of his plan; for as the two unequal forces did approach each other it became evident that they must meet directly in front of us.
Soon the archers were engaged, and the deadly arrows flew through the intervening space like hail.
Our force, of seven thousand goodly warriors, was now drawn up in lines, and the command was given to advance.
Slowly did we march down towards the opposing armies that now were engaged with the full fury of those that have received their baptism of arrow's flight. As we drew near there was a temporary lull in the clamour of the battle. Then we swung around and bore down upon the Usurper's forces from the Earl of Richmond's side.
Then was the heavy air rent asunder with loud, ringing cheers from Richmond's men, and foul curses and shouts of defiance from the Usurper's side.
Now did the battle rage with a redoubled fury. The army of the valiant Earl fought with the confidence of ultimate success; whilst Richard's struggled on with desperation. Our archers fought side by side with Richmond's foreigners.
"God and St. George!" rang forth on every side above the battle's din.
Then came the order which we knights had all been long awaiting.
"Charge, gallant knights of England! A Richmond! A Richmond! Victorious laurel crowns await us!"
Then the long lances with their fluttering streamers bent all together as they were laid in rest. How looked they like the full grown field of grain as it doth bend before the hot blasts of summer.
"Now, Walter, we must find Catesby!" cried Harleston.
"Yea, I must find him," I replied between my set teeth, as forward we dashed.
Michael gave one great cheer and then leaned forward with his mighty sword, that took the strength of two good men to wield, held beside his huge steed's neck.
On we flew, whilst forward dashed a band of knights and squires to meet us.
"Charge! charge! charge!" rang out on every side.
A crash!—curses,—cheers and groans! and then the sharp swords flashed over head, and the shields rang out right lustily.
My lance did resist the shock of the first encounter; the knight against whom I aimed it going down before my furious charge as though he had been a reed.
Sharply I spurred my steed and dashed forward at another knight, which bravely came on to meet me. Both lances shivered up to the very grasp. Drawing my good sword I again made at him. Then came a terrible blow upon my side, and I was shot from my saddle as a stone from a sling. Some cowardly knave had borne down upon me from the right whilst I was drawing my sword to attack my more worthy antagonist. His lance's point had struck beneath mine arm, and 'twas to our good King Edward's noble present that I owed my life.
I must have been stunned for a moment; for the next thing I knew of was a knee upon my chest and a visored face bending o'er me.
"Now I will finish the work left incomplete when last we met." It was Catesby.
In his hand he held a dagger, and now he drew it back to strike.
The only sensation I then felt was a curiosity to know how it would feel to die. The stroke I cared not for; but yet I wondered, with a kind of disinterestedness, how one would feel as the soul was parting from the body. It must have been that my senses were still scattered, or I had not acted thus. No resistance did I make; but with an indifferent feeling awaited the fatal blow where my helm joined my gorget.
All this could not have taken more time than does the lightning to fly across the heavens; for still the dagger stayed poised in the air.
"Hark ye!" hissed Catesby in mine ear.
"Take with thee this message unto Hell. Say that I, Catesby, did send thee to thy master, and that, unless the fortunes of the day be changed, I'll not be long behind thee." Then up higher flew the threatening blade. Then did it start on its downward course. It never reached my throat. A great hand seized mine enemy by the wrist; back flew the dagger-grasping hand until the arm snapped like a dry stick. Catesby flew into the air as though drawn by a mighty loadstone. Then was he hurled to the ground again with stunning force, and my great Michael kneeled beside me.
"Art thou hurt, yer honour?" he asked anxiously.
"Nay, Michael; I got but a sudden fall that dazed me. 'Twas for a moment only; now again do I feel a man." And with Michael's assistance I arose to my feet.
Then Catesby stirred, and Michael was upon him in an instant; dagger in hand, and drawn back for the fatal blow.
"Hold! hold, Michael! slay him not! I must question him!" I cried.
"Uh! bad luck to me fer a blunderin' fool; sure we must foind out whare he has the dear lady kipt, ere we send the varmint to roast in sulphur."
"Come, Master Catesby, our late respective positions are now reversed," said I calmly and distinctly, that my speech might be clear to his dazed senses. "Dost hear me?"
In a feeble voice, and with the use of many curses intermixed with groans, he answered that he did.
"Before thou diest thou shalt have an opportunity for the making of some slight restitution for the many wrongs that thou hast done to me. Tell me where I may find the Lady Hazel."
He raised himself up and leaned on his well arm, whilst the other did hang limp and twisted at his side.
"And what shall I receive for the telling of this to thee?"
"The weight of one good act to place opposite to the great load of evil on the scales of justice, when thou dost shortly appear before the seat of judgment."
"Ha, ha, ha!" loud did he laugh. "And dost thou then think that I am bereft of reason, to thus fling from me all that I do possess wherewith to buy my life? Nay, unless thou dost spare my life, thou mayest search from now until thy death, ere thou dost find the lady that thou seekest."
I held my dagger to his throat, but still he did hold his secret fast.
"Thy miserable life is then spared, for the present, if thou dost tell me where the lady is."
"And wilt thou forbid yon demon from murdering me?"
"Thou shalt not be harmed by either of us; but for thy treatment at the hands of the Earl of Richmond I cannot speak.
"Agreed! my life shall rest upon the hazard of this battle, as it did ere we met this day."
"Remember, if thou liest it shall be thy last; for thou dost still remain my prisoner."
"Go then unto the Town of Leicester—if thou ever canst—and within the Sanctuary near Grey Friars' Church thou shalt find the lady. There was she sent from the house in which I left thee, and there did I obtain admittance for her. I have not seen her since thou hast; but last evening I went unto the place and gave strict orders that there she must be kept until I sent or came for her. Thou canst not get her out without this ring. Here, draw it from my finger."
This I did, and then I commanded Michael to take him to the rear of Richmond's army.
I felt no fear of Catesby's escape; for he might as well have tried to escape from the unrelenting gates of Hell, as from the mighty Michael.
The battle raged not nearby where I stood; but down at the marsh the fight was at its thickest. Hastily did I secure a horse, and I spurred him hard as I made for Richmond's standard.
The royal banner of England now dashed forward, and the two flags were well nigh together.
"This now must be the finish," cried I, as I waved my good sword in circles round my head.
Then came there forward, like a thunderbolt, Sir William Stanley's gallant horsemen, and rode abreast with me.
Down sank the gallant standard of the noble Earl, as Richard himself smote to the ground Sir William Brandon, who had carried it. Another knight sprang forward from the side of Richmond and faced the desperate tyrant. He met the same fate as Brandon. Richmond waved his sword in defiance of the boar, and the two men were like to meet; but I got betwixt them and caught Richard's blow upon my shield.
"Ha! Bradley! Escaped, runagate traitor! Have at thee!"
Again did I catch his savage blow, and this time I gave him my straight point beneath his helm.
At that very moment another good knight dashed in and, as he saw Richard strike at me, he thought that I was Richmond. His bright blade flashed through the air and struck the tyrant fair upon his helmed head. Two such fierce blows, falling both at once, drove Richard from his saddle as though a bolt from Heaven had struck him.
Down from my steed I sprang, and with my dagger clipped the laces of his headpiece. Already the eyes were rolled far back, and stared up blindly at me. Not a quiver stirred his frame. He had died in the twinkling of an eye.
The sun now rent asunder the clouds of Heaven, as had the two flashing swords torn the darkest clouds that had surrounded us all for so long a time, and the whole field was filled with brightness. Mayhap it was the resounding shouts of victory of our now half-crazed army that did rend the heavy clouds; for one could scarce hear himself cheer, so loud were the shouts of gladness all around us.
The remnant of the dead tyrant's force—for above four thousand had been slain—offered no further resistance, and the great majority of them did join in and cheer for the victorious Earl.
Then Harleston grasped my hand. His visor was raised up and his face was flushed with pleasure and exertion.
"Well, Bradley, our oath, made to King Edward, hath been kept; we have revenged the murder of his little son."
It was he who had struck down Richard at the same moment as had I.
Richmond dismounted and, kneeling, he thanked God for his great victory. Then he arose and grasped both Harleston and me by the hands, and heartily he thanked us for the part that we had played.
Sir William Stanley now advanced to where the Earl of Richmond stood. In his hand he carried the light, gold crown that had been worn by Richard in the battle. This he placed upon the victor's head, and then we all knelt down and cried:—"God save King Henry!" Then, as do the waters spread out in ever widening circling waves after a stone hath been dropped through their smooth surface, the cries of:—"God save King Henry!" swept throughout the whole delirious army.
"Great God, I thank thee for this bounteous gift presented by the hands of these, thy faithful servants," said Henry devoutly, as again he kneeled.
"May I rule this, my fair, native land with justice, and under thy direction."
Then again we all arose, and deafening cheers swept with redoubled vigour over the plains of Redmoor.
"Throw yon bloody carrion across the back of some degraded horse, and then on to Leicester, where we will spend the night," said the King, as he pointed to Richard's body.
Frederick and I had little difficulty in finding Michael; for during the preceding scene he had forced his way through the crowd and stood near behind us. We then joined in with the guards of our new sovereign and rode on to Leicester, with hearts lighter than they had been for many a long, black day; and yet with anxious minds, as we wondered whether Catesby had told the truth or no.