And then, like a theatre trick, there followed the
last act of Shoreby Battle. The men in front
of Richard turned tail, like a dog that has been whistled
home, and fled like the wind. At the same moment
there came through the market-place a storm of horsemen,
fleeing and pursuing, the Lancastrians turning back
to strike with the sword, the Yorkists riding them
down at the point of the lance.
Conspicuous in the mellay, Dick beheld the Crookback.
He was already giving a foretaste of that furious
valour and skill to cut his way across the ranks of
war, which, years afterwards upon the field of Bosworth,
and when he was stained with crimes, almost sufficed
to change the fortunes of the day and the destiny of
the English throne. Evading, striking, riding
down, he so forced and so manoeuvred his strong horse,
so aptly defended himself, and so liberally scattered
death to his opponents, that he was now far ahead
of the foremost of his knights, hewing his way, with
the truncheon of a bloody sword, to where Lord Risingham
was rallying the bravest. A moment more and
they had met; the tall, splendid, and famous warrior
against the deformed and sickly boy.
Yet Shelton had never a doubt of the result; and when
the fight next opened for a moment, the figure of
the earl had disappeared; but still, in the first
of the danger, Crookback Dick was launching his big
horse and plying the truncheon of his sword.
Thus, by Shelton’s courage in holding the mouth
of the street against the first attack, and by the
opportune arrival of his seven hundred reinforcements,
the lad, who was afterwards to be handed down to the
execration of posterity under the name of Richard III.,
had won his first considerable fight.
CHAPTER IV—THE SACK OF SHOREBY
There was not a foe left within striking distance;
and Dick, as he looked ruefully about him on the remainder
of his gallant force, began to count the cost of victory.
He was himself, now that the danger was ended, so
stiff and sore, so bruised and cut and broken, and,
above all, so utterly exhausted by his desperate and
unremitting labours in the fight, that he seemed incapable
of any fresh exertion.
But this was not yet the hour for repose. Shoreby
had been taken by assault; and though an open town,
and not in any manner to be charged with the resistance,
it was plain that these rough fighters would be not
less rough now that the fight was over, and that the
more horrid part of war would fall to be enacted.
Richard of Gloucester was not the captain to protect
the citizens from his infuriated soldiery; and even
if he had the will, it might be questioned if he had
the power.
It was, therefore, Dick’s business to find and
to protect Joanna; and with that end he looked about
him at the faces of his men. The three or four
who seemed likeliest to be obedient and to keep sober
he drew aside; and promising them a rich reward and
a special recommendation to the duke, led them across
the market-place, now empty of horsemen, and into
the streets upon the further side.
