nd 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 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."

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."

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 portio