At length, after some days of manœuvring and marching, the two armies came into the immediate vicinity of each other near the town of Bosworth, at a place where there was a wide field, which has since been greatly renowned in history as the Field of Bosworth. The two armies advanced into the neighborhood of this field on the 19th and 20th days of August, and both sides began to prepare for battle.
The two armies.
Richard's depression and anxiety.
His painful suspicions.
The army which Richard commanded was far more numerous and imposing than that of Richmond, and every thing, so far as outward appearances were concerned, promised him an easy victory. And yet Richmond was exultant in his confidence of success, while Richard was harassed with gloomy forebodings. His mind was filled with perplexity and distress. He believed that the leading nobles and generals on his side had secretly resolved to betray him, and that they were prepared to abandon him and go over to the enemy on the very field of battle, unless he could gain advantages so decisive at the very commencement of the conflict as to show that the cause of Richmond was hopeless. Although Richard was morally convinced that this was the state of things, he had no sufficient evidence of it to justify his taking any action against the men that he suspected. He did not even dare to express his suspicions, for he knew that if he were to do so, or even to intimate that he felt suspicion, the only effect would be to precipitate the consummation of the treachery that he feared, and perhaps drive some to abandon him who had not yet fully resolved on doing so. He was obliged, therefore, though suffering the greatest anxiety and alarm, to suppress all indications of his uneasiness, except to his most confidential friends. To them he appeared, as one of them stated, "sore moved and broiled with melancholy and dolor, and from time to time he cried out, asking vengeance of them that, contrary to their oath and promise, were so deceiving him."
His remorse.
The recollection of the many crimes that he had committed in the attainment of the power which he now feared he was about to lose forever, harassed his mind and tormented his conscience, especially at night. "He took ill rest at nights," says one of his biographers, "using to lie long, waking and musing, sore wearied with care and watch, and rather slumbered than slept, troubled with fearful dreams."
The battle.
Richard betrayed.
Defection of his men.
On the day of the battle Richard found the worst of his forebodings fulfilled. In the early part of the day he took a position upon an elevated portion of the ground, where he could survey the whole field, and direct the movements of his troops. From this point he could see, as the battle went on, one body of men after another go over to the enemy. He was overwhelmed with vexation and rage. He cried out, Treason! Treason! and, calling upon his guards and attendants to follow him, he rushed down the hill, determined to force his way to the part of the field where Richmond himself was stationed, with a view of engaging him and killing him with his own hand. This, he thought, was the last hope that was now left him.
There was a spring of water, and a little brook flowing from it in a part of the field where he had to pass. He stopped at this spring, opened his helmet, and took a drink of the water. He then closed his helmet and rode on.
Richard's Well.
This spring afterward received, from this circumstance, the name of "Richard's Well," and it is known by that name to this day.