Richard III (31 page)

It is likely that Northumberland and the Stanleys, among others, received such letters.
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By the spring Henry was at Rouen, looking for ships. No doubt Richard’s spies reported his activities to their master, who may not have been unduly alarmed. For the French seem to have been in two minds about the Earl of Richmond. They must have remembered the English King’s opposition to the treaty of Picquigny – Commynes certainly did – and may also have seen copies of his proclamations against Henry, in which the Tudor was accused of promising the French King to ‘dissever the arms of France from the arms of England for ever’, and to abandon all claims to Normandy, Anjou, Maine, Gascony and Guyenne. Obviously if ever Richard felt strong enough, he would invade France and try to reconquer the territories once governed by his father. There was therefore a good case for sending Henry to topple him while he was still weak. There was also a case for keeping Henry in reserve, as a threat. Both options would cost money, but especially the first. It is likely that the King understood this and felt that there was a reasonable chance of his enemy being unable to raise sufficient funds for a proper invasion fleet.

He had an informer among the exiled rebels, Sir Robert Clifford from Aspenden in Hertfordshire (where there is a stained glass portrait of him in the parish church). A former Lancastrian, whose father had been killed at first St Alban’s and whose brother – the murderer of Richard’s brother Rutland – had fallen on the Towton campaign – and who had then joined Brandon’s abortive rising, his credentials seemed impeccable to the Tudor. Yet he was back in England by spring 1485 with a pardon after informing the council of anything he could learn. (Clifford was a talented spy - later Henry VII used him as a double agent, to penetrate the circle around Perkin Warbeck.

Nevertheless, Richard was not taking any chances. In April 1485 Sir George Nevill was given a flotilla to patrol the Kentish coast and in May Lovell was ordered to keep a fleet in readiness at Southampton. The King expected Henry would try to land in southern England, the most disaffected part of the country. His agents had learnt that the Tudor intended to make for ‘Milford’, and there was a tiny port of that name in Hampshire which would be excellent for a secret landing, and apparently a soothsayer confirmed that this was the danger spot. No one realized that Richmond’s ‘Milford’ was Milford Haven in Wales. Sir Ralph Assheton and Lord Scrope of Bolton, now Constable of Exeter Castle, were guarding the West Country. Assheton was reappointed Vice-Constable of England and given a deputy. In June Richard returned to his command centre at Nottingham.

Meanwhile, the Earl of Richmond had not been idle. Fortunately for him, he was not a procrastinator. The French government were still alarmed that the English King might support Breton separatists should Duke Francis die; indeed, by his encouragement of them, he had given the impression that he intended to invade France as soon as possible – by a more placatory attitude he could easily have won French friendship. As it was, French policy suddenly altered in the autumn and Henry would then have received no help. In any case what he did receive was very inadequate. Commynes says it consisted
only of a ‘little money from the King [Charles VIII] and some 3,000 of the most unruly men that could be found and enlisted in Normandy’.
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In reality Charles gave nothing and it was a courtier, Philippe Lullier (Captain of the Bastille), who from his own private resources lent Henry just enough to hire a thousand mercenaries and half a dozen small ships, which was very different from the 4,000 troops that had been promised by the French government. It was Lullier, not Charles, who provided a few cannon.
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Nevertheless, we can safely guess that Henry Tudor made the most of what was available. Lullier’s loan was undoubtedly supplemented by contributions from supporters in England, while Henry also borrowed from Parisian goldsmiths – he was not without humour – leaving the untrustworthy Dorset behind him as security. Moreover, historians have accepted Commynes too uncritically and tend to underestimate the fighting potential of Henry’s expedition. While the xenophobic Hall may dismiss them as ‘beggarly Bretons and faint-hearted Frenchmen,’ Henry’s mercenaries were crack troops equipped with the latest weaponry, mostly pikemen trained to fight in formation like the Swiss, using the eighteen foot long Swiss pike which at that time was unknown in England. They also included arquebusiers, whose new guns, lighter than the earlier hand cannon but with a larger bore and a matchlock, fired armour piercing bullets that were devastatingly effective against mounted men-arms. Led by several hundred exiled English gentry, what might be termed the officer/man ratio was unusually high. And when it landed the little army would be reinforced by formidable recruits.

Furthermore, while Richmond had never even seen a full-scale battle – he himself called Bosworth ‘our first field’ – he possessed superlative commanders. The Earl of Oxford had smashed the Yorkist left at Barnet in 1471 (just as he would destroy the last Yorkist army at Stoke in 1487), while the Savoyard Philibert de Chandée, who commanded the French troops, clearly knew how to handle them, however ‘
meschantz
’ (worthless). Jasper Tudor’s experience of campaigning in Wales would be very useful in the early stages – he understood the management of that valiant but touchy race. And the expedition included an even greater warrior than Oxford. This was Bernard Stewart, Seigneur d’Aubigny, one of the French King’s Scots Archers. Although he was nearly forty, his real triumphs lay ahead; he was to be Captain of the Archers, a Marshal of France and a hero of the French invasions of Italy; in 1508 James IV would proudly refer to him as ‘the Father of War’. Aubigny had been French Ambassador to Scotland in 1484 and may well have helped persuade the French to aid Henry, perhaps to avenge that humiliating occupation of Edinburgh.
Undoubtedly he brought a small Scots contingent; it is improbable that many came from the French King’s indispensable bodyguard, though one or two may have been spared – a laird present, possibly an archer, whose name we do know was Sir Alexander Bruce of Earlshall.
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Henry assembled his men and his few ships, perhaps at Rouen, and sailed up the Seine. No doubt with unhappy memories of his stormy journey of two years before, he seems to have waited for fine weather at Harfleur on the Norman coast before putting out to sea. His little fleet had a longer voyage ahead than the vast majority of those on board realized. On Monday 1 August a soft wind was blowing from the south, which was what the shipmasters wanted. The Earl of Richmond set sail.

As soon as Richard had reached Nottingham in June, his spies brought him reliable information that the long-awaited invasion was about to begin. On 22 June he reissued his proclamation of the previous December against ‘Henry Tydder’ and his band of rebels and traitors ‘of whom many be known for open-murderers, adulterers and extortioners’, who had been chased out of Brittany for making proposals ‘too greatly unnatural and abominable’; they intended to commit ‘the most cruel murders, slaughters and robberies and disherisons that ever were seen in any Christian realm’ and to steal everyone’s estates and offices, even the bishoprics. Either Richard dictated this proclamation himself or it was someone who knew the workings of his mind. The following day he sent out Commissions of Array, ordering the commissioners, ‘upon peril of losing their lives, lands and goods’, to ensure that their men were properly ‘horsed and harnessed’ and ready to march at an hour’s notice.

Lord Stanley came to the King and asked permission to return to his estates in the North West to raise his tenantry. Richard plainly distrusted the man but dared not antagonize a subject whom he had made one of the three principal props of his regime. He compromised, insisting that Stanley leave his son, the 25-year-old Lord Strange, in his place. Stanley, according to Vergil, did not leave Nottingham until Strange had come, to be in fact if not name an unofficial hostage for his wily father’s good behaviour.

In July the King received confirmation that Henry’s fleet was about to sail. On the 24th of the month he sent for the Great Seal. Five days after sending for the seal, in yet another outburst of suspicion, Richard dismissed Bishop Russell from his post as its Keeper. Without the Seal it was impossible to issue Commissions of Array and raise an army. Predictably Russell was replaced by a Northerner – or at least a man whom the King had known in the North – Dr Thomas Barowe, Master of the Rolls. A product of Cambridge, he had been the King’s Chancellor when Richard was Duke of Gloucester and was obviously a reassuringly familiar figure. (On Barowe’s appointment to the Rolls two years before, Richard had sent him two pipes of wine.)

Meanwhile a spy – Clifford? - had learned that the enemy’s ships would make for ‘Milford’, which was a tiny, port in Hampshire, and Lord Lovell assembled a flotilla at Southampton to intercept them.

The Great Seal was delivered to the King at Nottingham on 11 August. That very same day he received news that the Earl of Richmond had already landed, in a place where he had been least expected, and was marching towards him with his army.

Chapter Thirteen

‘THE KING’S ENEMIES BE A-LAND’

Some time during the third week of August 1485 John Paston received a hasty note from his great neighbour, the Duke of Norfolk. It was almost certainly written on Saturday the 13th.

Similar summonses were going out all over England, sent by the henchmen. They were also being sent by the Stanleys and Northumberland. Richard was taken completely by surprise at the enemy’s choice of landing place – despite all his precautions he had not received news of the invasion for four days, when the Earl of Richmond was
already approaching Shrewsbury. Nevertheless, on hearing of it, the King rejoiced ‘or at least seemed to rejoice,’ says the Croyland chronicler, who may have watched him with his own eyes.

The little Tudor fleet had made land on the north side of Milford Haven in south-west Wales, just before sunset on Sunday 7 August. As soon as he set foot on Welsh soil, Henry knelt, kissed the ground, crossed himself and then recited the Psalm ‘
Judica me, Deus, et discerna causam meam
’ – ‘O God, sustain my cause …’ Then he knighted several of his supporters. From the start he acted as though he were a rightful King come to claim his own.

Henry had chosen Pembrokeshire as the invasion point for a variety of reasons. His uncle Jasper knew the area well and still had influence there, while his agent John Morgan of Tredegar had sent a message assuring him that he would be joined by Rhys ap Thomas and Sir John Savage, whose mother was a sister of the Stanleys. The former commanded immense respect among the southern Welsh because of his descent from one of their greatest Princes, and his castle of Dynevor in Carmarthenshire was only a short distance away. Not only was Sir John Savage (of Clifton in Cheshire) one of Richard’s Knights of the Body and a trusted official who had received rich rewards, but he possessed influence all over Wales. In addition Sir Gilbert Talbot, on the southern Welsh border, had contacted Henry to say that he would come out with him. High Sheriff of Shropshire, Talbot was the uncle and guardian of the young Earl of Shrewsbury.

Yet, to begin with, the little expedition appeared to be in some danger. Henry was told that enemies had been waiting for him for months. There was no sign that Rhys ap Thomas and Savage, let alone Talbot, really were going to risk their necks. Admittedly lesser men such as Evan Morgan and William ap Griffith came in very quickly, bringing a handful of troops, as did a small band from the town of Pembroke, who had always stayed loyal to Jasper Tudor. Nevertheless, men of position reacted to news of Henry’s arrival with the utmost caution. He had to move as carefully and discreetly as possible. Although a rumour that a large force of troops loyal to Richard was about to intercept him proved false, it seemed that South Wales was
firmly controlled by the King’s son-in-law, the Earl of Huntingdon (Katharine’s husband). Henry therefore marched north until he reached central Wales and then turned east through Powys to enter England. At any moment he might have been overwhelmed by the Stanleys – had they been faithful to Richard. Then the gates of Shrewsbury opened. Suddenly the Tudor army began to grow dramatically.

As it approached Newport in Shropshire, Rhys ap Thomas joined Henry with a thousand men. Sir Gilbert Talbot then arrived with every Talbot retainer capable of bearing arms, another 500. Significantly he was a neighbour and friend of the Stanley brothers. Hitherto the Tudor’s recruits had been mainly Welshmen, no doubt flattered by his marching under the ‘family’ banner of the red dragon of Cadwallader; many of them would have responded to the Celtic combination of flattery and threats he was sending out, as in his letter to his distant cousin John ap Meredith, which promised to restore the people of Wales to their ‘erst liberties’ while commanding John to come and fight for him ‘as ye will avoid our grievous displeasure and answer it unto your peril’. However, Talbot’s troops were Shropshiremen, and as Henry marched further into England, he was joined by still more English knights and gentry.

None the less it was reasonable for Richard to anticipate no difficulty in crushing ‘so contemptible a faction’.

‘Shakespeare conjures up his mood:

On Thursday 17 August he went hunting in Sherwood Forest, spending the night at a convenient lodge – a good way of displaying confidence and dispelling tension. He was the King and he had a mighty army – Henry was an adventurer with forces which seemed hopelessly inadequate. One should also take into account the Boar’s inflated reputation as a military commander, and the sheer dread and terror which he inspired, ‘such great fierceness and such huge force of mind he had’.
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So far no English peer who was not in exile had come out for the Tudor. Yet, as news of defections by apparently reliable officials began to arrive, Richard grew steadily more suspicious. His nervousness showed when he sent orders for Sir Robert Brackenbury to bring with him to Leicester two of Buckingham’s former supporters about whom he was doubtful – Sir Walter Hungerford and Sir Thomas Bourchier.

Then the King was given real cause for alarm. George, Lord Strange, who had come to Nottingham to be a hostage for the Stanleys’ good behaviour, was caught trying to escape from the castle. Only a day or two before, his father, Lord Stanley, had written to say that he was suffering from the current outbreak of the sweating sickness and would not be able to join the royal army at Leicester. Obviously Strange was interrogated with savage efficiency; if he was not tortured, he was almost certainly threatened with the ‘question’. He broke quickly, making an abject confession and begging for mercy. He admitted that he and his uncle Sir William, together with Sir Gilbert Talbot and Sir John Savage, had been planning to join the Earl of Richmond. However, Lord Strange insisted that his father was nevertheless unshakeably loyal to Richard; this may have been a deliberate lie, a shrewdly calculated attempt at self-preservation. Presumably under strict direction, he wrote to Lord Stanley, explaining the peril in which he stood and beseeching him to come to Leicester and save his life. While Strange remained a hostage in imminent danger of death, the King had some chance of controlling the Stanleys, though Sir William and Savage were at once proclaimed as traitors. It is very likely that the wily Catesby had a good deal to do with fending off Strange’s beheading; in the revealing will, which he dictated just before his own execution, he says, ‘My Lords Stanley, Strange and all that blood, help and pray for my soul, for ye have not for my body as I trusted in you.’

As so often before, Richard’s fatal incapacity to judge other men had betrayed him. The key mover in the Stanley conspiracy, Sir William, was even more treacherous than his brother and had a long record of changing sides. It had been extremely profitable, William Stanley having done very well for a younger son. He was fifty, the same age as the head of the family whose twin he may have been. In his case the ‘second son’ complex expressed itself in greed and ruthlessness and was richly rewarded. He had also made a wealthy marriage with ‘Butcher’ Tiptoft’s widow. Half a century afterwards Leland referred admiringly to the mansion William built himself at Ridley in Cheshire as ‘the fairest gentleman’s house in all Chestershire’. The King had had quite enough opportunity to observe him since he
worked closely with William Stanley, too closely for his comfort; declining an invitation to a hunting party, Stanley wrote that he was ‘so busy with old Dick that I can have no leave’. This clever and daring intriguer was more than a match for his master.
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Every day Richard had increasing reason to suspect treachery all around him. News of more and more defections arrived. Sir Thomas Bourchier and Sir Walter Hungerford gave Brackenbury the slip to join Richmond near Stony Stratford. Sir John Savage – who, it will be remembered, was one of the henchmen – would join Henry at Tamworth with men-at-arms in white hoods and jerkins. Even so, the Tudor’s army was still too small to face Richard with any chance of success in a straightforward battle. However much they may have disapproved of their ruler, too few noblemen and gentry, let alone burgesses and common folk, were prepared to risk their lives and fortunes after nearly thirty years of dynastic warfare.

It is astonishing how many English gentlemen preferred to ‘stay a-bed’ and thought themselves in no way accursed at missing what would not exactly be another Crispin’s Day. And it was they who provided the troops; in consequence, whereas perhaps as many as 50,000 men, on both sides, had fought at Towton in 1461, no more than 25,000 were to fight in 1485. Thirty-three noblemen – almost the entire English peerage who were not minors or under attainder – had attended Richard’s Coronation, yet only a dozen would be with him at Bosworth, and two of them were traitors.
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A magnate like the third Lord Stourton, whose family had become briefly pre-eminent in the West Country because of the Courtenays’ eclipse, was not going to gamble on the outcome of the present campaign, even though the King’s defeat would mean the return of his rivals.
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Neither would Stourton’s brother and eventual heir, despite being married to Richard’s niece, Catherine de la Pole. Lesser people, knights and gentlemen, simply disregarded the King’s summons and ignored the threat in his Commissions of Array that they would do so ‘on peril of their lives, lands and goods’. The city of York too was growing tired of Richard’s incessant demands for its inhabitants to risk their lives for him. It sent a force of only eighty men, who did not arrive in time. This lack of enthusiasm is a damning indictment.

Even so, one should not underestimate the terror inspired by the King’s threats and menaces. It is vividly preserved in the ballad ‘Bosworth Feilde’ which makes Richard promise

Apparently the Earl of Richmond’s strategy was simply to advance on London and hope for the best, like Bonny Prince Charlie in 1745. The fact that Shrewsbury opened its gates to him was encouraging – they had stayed firmly shut during Buckingham’s campaign, when the Duke tried to enter. Henry had sent messages to the Stanleys – and almost certainly to Northumberland as well, though there is no firm proof – begging for support. He knew very well that if they did not give it, he was lost. The Stanleys were willing enough, as Richard himself now appreciated, but were held back by the perilous situation of Lord Strange. The King hoped to neutralize them and did not want to drive them into the arms of the Earl of Richmond; it was better to have them on the sidelines rather than as open enemies.

What Richard did not suspect for one moment was that he had another, more secret enemy – the Earl of Northumberland. His inability to judge other men was to prove his final undoing. It is likely (despite Gairdner’s belief that the Tudor’s agents failed to reach him) that the Earl had been in touch with Richmond. On the other hand, he was not Henry’s stepfather. There are some slight indications that Northumberland contemplated a totally different outcome. First, he would let the Stanley–Richmond faction and the King do each other as much damage as possible, and with luck ensure that Richard was killed. Then he would proclaim the young Earl of Warwick as King and become the power behind the throne.
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If Richard was to survive, he had to intercept and destroy Henry Tudor’s army. On Friday 19 August the King marched down the hill from Nottingham Castle and set out for Leicester where his levies were assembling. He rode warily, he and his household men in the van, which was flanked on both sides by mounted men-at-arms who
scouted far and wide; suspicious as ever, he did not discount the possibility of ambush. It was an impressive sight, yet Vergil – if he is not indulging in poetic licence – says that its effect was marred by the worried frown on Richard’s grim face. Behind their terrifying little leader, his captains must have been equally uneasy. He arrived at Leicester just before sunset the same day, having covered twenty-five miles, entering through one of the north gates and riding down what is now High Cross Street. The town’s cannon roared out a salute. Ignoring the ruinous castle, he installed himself at the reassuringly named White Boar Inn, a large, cantilevered, half-timbered building. Servants at once furbished his apartments with his furniture and hangings – as was the custom for great lords, he had even brought his own bed with him. (The bed had a false bottom containing about £300 in gold coin, which was not discovered for a century, until Elizabeth I’s reign.) The Duke of Norfolk and his troops were also billeted in the town, soon to be joined by the Earl of Northumberland and his contingent.