ugust at Bosworth Field in Leicestershire than
their treason was declared. The forces under Lord Stanley abandoned the
king when the battle began; a second body of troops under the Earl of
Northumberland drew off as it opened. In the crisis of the fight Sir
William Stanley passed over to Henry's side. With a cry of "Treason!
treason!" Richard flung himself into the thick of the battle, and in the
fury of his despair he had already dashed the Lancastrian standard to the
ground and hewed his way into the presence of his rival when he fell
overpowered with numbers, and the crown which he had worn and which was
found as the struggle ended lying near a hawthorn bush was placed on the
head of the conqueror.

CHAPTER II
THE REVIVAL OF LEARNING
1485-1514

[Sidenote: Henry the Seventh]

Still young, for he was hardly thirty when his victory at Bosworth placed
him on the throne, the temper of Henry the Seventh seemed to promise the
reign of a poetic dreamer rather than of a statesman. The spare form, the
sallow face, the quick eye, lit now and then with a fire that told of his
Celtic blood, the shy, solitary humour which was only broken by outbursts
of pleasant converse or genial sarcasm, told of an inner concentration and
enthusiasm; and to the last Henry's mind remained imaginative and
adventurous. He dreamed of crusades, he dwelt with delight on the legends
of Arthur which Caxton gave to the world in the year of his accession. His
tastes were literary and artistic. He called foreign scholars to his court
to serve as secretaries and historiographers; he trained his children in
the highest culture of their day; he was a patron of the new printing
press, a lover of books and of art. The chapel at Westminster which bears
his name reflects his passion for architecture. But life gave Henry little
leisure for dreams or culture. From the first he had to struggle for very
existence against the dangers that beset him. A battle and treason had
given him the throne; treason and a battle might dash him from it. His
claim of blood was an uncertain and disputable one even by men of his own
party. He stood attainted by solemn Act of Parliament; and though the
judges ruled that the possession of the crown cleared all attaint the
stigma and peril remained. His victory had been a surprise; he could not
trust the nobles; of fifty-two peers he dared summon only a part to the
Parliament which assembled after his coronation and gave i