And who can doubt that, in such an hour, other than selfish motives animated the last Plantagenet king? With all his faults, Richard was an Englishman, and a man of genius; and his patriotism and his pride must have been shocked at the possibility of the throne, from which the first and the third Edward had commanded the respect of Europe, becoming the perch of an adventurer, who would never have been heard of but for a Welsh soldier having made too elaborate a pirouette while enacting the part of court fool.
[CHAPTER L.]
BOSWORTH FIELD.
It was the morning of Monday, the 22d of August, 1485, when the Yorkist usurper and the Lancastrian adventurer mustered their forces on the field of Bosworth, and prepared for that conflict which decided the thirty years' War of the Roses.
On the eve of a struggle which subsequent events rendered so memorable, Richard was not quite himself. For days his temper had been frequently tried by news of desertion, and for nights his rest had been broken by dreams of disaster. Nevertheless, he prepared for battle with energy. The honor of leading the van, which was constituted of archers, flanked with cuirassiers, fell to the Duke of Norfolk, and his son the Earl of Surrey. The main battle, consisting of choice bill-men, empaled with pikes, and formed into a dense square, with wings of cavalry on either side, the king took under his own auspices. The rear-guard was under the command of Northumberland. Besides, Richard's artillery was the reverse of contemptible; and, altogether, he had little to fear save from the treachery of his adherents.
Richmond, meantime, growing uneasy in the presence of a foe so redoubted, sent to ask Lord Stanley to come and assist him in marshaling his army. The answer of the Countess of Richmond's husband was not quite satisfactory to his step-son. Indeed, Stanley gave the messenger to understand that no aid need be expected from him till the armies joined battle, and he only committed himself so far as to advise that the onset should be made without delay.
Richmond was staggered at Stanley's answer. The Welsh earl's situation was indeed painful and perplexing. He knew that his army was scarcely half so numerous as the king's, and he could not but be conscious of his immeasurable inferiority as a general. Retreat, however, was impossible; and, after holding a council of war, Richmond resolved on fighting forthwith. This resolution having been arrived at, the Lancastrian army was set in order for battle. Oxford took the command of the van, which consisted principally of archers. Richmond—whose standard was borne by Sir William Brandon—undertook to command the main body; and in his rear, with a body of horsemen and some bills and pikes, was posted Jasper Tudor, whose age and experience, it was probably hoped, would compensate in some measure for his nephew's lack of military skill and prowess. Besides, Richmond's army had two wings. Of these one was commanded by Sir Gilbert Talbot, the other by Sir John Savage.
His preparations made, and his armor girded on except the helmet, Richmond, to encourage his army, rode from rank to rank, and many of the Lancastrian soldiers for the first time saw the man who represented himself as the heir of John of Gaunt. The aspect of the adventurer must have disappointed those who had pictured, in imagination, such a chief as the conqueror of Towton and Tewkesbury. Nature had denied Richmond kingly proportions; and his appearance, though not positively mean, was far from majestic; while his countenance wore an expression which indicated too clearly that tendency to knavery destined to be so rapidly developed.