God and Saint George! Richmond and victory!”—Shakespeare.
Sect. 1.—Eruption.
After the fate of England had been decided by the battle of Bosworth, on the 22d of August, 1485[2], the joy of the nation was clouded by a mortal disease which thinned the ranks of the warriors, and following in the rear of Henry’s victorious army, spread in a few weeks from the distant mountains of Wales to the metropolis of the empire. It was a violent inflammatory fever, which, after a short rigor, prostrated the powers as with a blow; and amidst painful oppression at the stomach, headache and lethargic stupor, suffused the whole body with a fetid perspiration. All this took place in the course of a few hours, and the crisis was always over within the space of a day and night[3]. The internal heat which the patient suffered was intolerable, yet every refrigerant was certain death. The people were seized with consternation when they saw that scarcely one in a hundred escaped[4], and their first impression was that a reign commencing with such horrors would doubtless prove most inauspicious[5].
At first the new foe was scarcely heeded; citizens and peasants went in joyful processions to meet the victorious army. Henry’s march from Bosworth towards London resembled a triumph, which was everywhere celebrated by festivals; for the nation, after its many years of civil war, looked forward to happier days than they had enjoyed under the blood-thirsty Richard.
Very shortly, however, after the king’s entry into the capital on the 28th of August[6], the Sweating Sickness[7], as the disease was called, began to spread its ravages among the densely peopled streets of the city. Two lord mayors and six aldermen died within one week[8], having scarcely laid aside their festive robes; many who had been in perfect health at night, were on the following morning numbered among the dead. The disease for the most part marked for its victims robust and vigorous men; and as many noble families lost their chiefs, extensive commercial houses their principals, and wards their guardians, the festivities were soon converted into grief and mourning. The coronation of the king, which was expected to overcome the scruples that many entertained of his right to the throne, was of necessity postponed in this general distress[9], and the disease, in the mean time, spread without interruption and over the whole kingdom from east to west[10].
It is agreed that the pestilence did not commence till the very beginning of August, 1485, and was in obvious connexion with the circumstances of the times. To return to their native country had long been the ardent desire of the Earl of Richmond and his faithful followers. At the age of 15, (1471,) having escaped the vengeance of the House of York, and the assassins of Edward, he was overtaken by a storm, and fell into the hands of Francis II., Duke of Bretagne, who long detained him prisoner, but on the death of Edward, in 1483, supplied him with means to enforce his claims to the English throne, as the last descendant of the House of Lancaster. This first undertaking miscarried. A storm drove back the bold adventurer to Dieppe, and compelled him once more to throw himself, with his five hundred English followers, on the hospitality of Duke Francis. Richard’s influence with the Duke, however, rendered his stay there somewhat dangerous. Richmond withdrew privately, and endeavoured to gain over to his cause Charles VIII., who was yet a minor. A small subsidy of French troops, some pieces of artillery, and an adequate supply of money, were finally granted to his repeated solicitations. This little band was quickly augmented to 2000 men, who were all embarked, and on the 25th of July, 1485, they weighed anchor at Havre, and seven days after, the standard of Richmond was raised in Milford Haven[11].
They landed at the village of Dale, on the west side of the harbour, and on the evening of their arrival, or very early on the following morning, Richmond hastened to Haverfordwest, where no messenger had yet announced the renewal of the civil war. It appears that he reached Cardigan, on the northern shore, on the 3d of August, and for the first time granted to his small but increasing army the repose of an encampment.
After a short halt, he set forward with confidence, crossed the Severn at Shrewsbury[12], turned from thence to Newport and Stafford, and pitched his camp at Litchfield, probably before the 18th of August[13]. The distance to this place from Milford Haven is 170 miles, and the road leads over wooded mountains and cultivated fields, without touching upon any swampy lands. Litchfield, however, lies low, and it was here that the army encamped in a damp situation, till it broke up for the neighbouring field of Bosworth. Thither Richmond, with scarcely 5000 men, and having his right wing covered by a morass, went to meet his deadly foe, whose army doubled his own. The combat was at first furious, but in two hours Lord Stanley crowned the conqueror with Richard’s diadem[14].
All these events so rapidly succeeded each other in the course of three weeks, that the knights and soldiers of Richmond, more and more excited every day by fear and hope, were scarcely equal to such exertions. Yet the very rapidity of the movements of the army was the cause why the disease could not spread so quickly, nor obstruct the final decision of Bosworth, although the report of it had already, before this event, spread universal terror; so that Lord Stanley, when authoritatively summoned by Richard to repair to his standard, sought to gain time, and, by way of excuse, alleged the prevalence of the new disease[15].