ers, they none the less represented the beginning of a
new era, which was to see a citizen soldiery formed of London trained
bands even more important in the next civil war, and which was to find
its climax in the later citizen soldiery, the Volunteer Army of modern
England. The natural result of such a primary disposition of the troops
on either side was that the right wings of both armies, practically
equal in number, gained a temporary success. The battle began by
Oxford’s attack on the wing opposite him, which actually routed it and
dispersed it; but the value of a reserve in the hand of the general
was never more clearly evidenced than when, during Oxford’s absence
and ill-advised, because too prolonged pursuit, Edward launched his
reserve against Warwick’s then exposed flank and the left centre. To
the suddenness of the attack was added the demoralisation caused by
imagined treachery. On that misty Easter morning it was difficult to
distinguish between the badges and banners of one side and the other.
The dress was not a different- uniform, as later on; it had
only the uniforms of iron and steel. A false war-cry was easily raised,
the Oxford banner with a “star” not readily distinguishable from that
of Edward with the “sun.” So that when Oxford returned to the fray, he
fell on his own centre and produced the cry of “Treachery!” which was
always likely to be raised in an army composed of selections from two
factions deadly hostile to one another, and in which the Lancastrians
especially looked with something more than doubt on their new friends,
once the followers of hated York. So that confusion began and spread.
Somerset did little, and soon the centre and right dissolved, and only
on the left assembled round Warwick the relics of the beaten host, and
defended the entrenched wood. Here it was essentially a foot encounter,
with London archers and bills against Lancastrian bows and pikes, aided
by dismounted cavalry and supported by mounted troops, threatening the
flanks and rear. It is sai