the day!"

The same fatal error was shared by Hilyard, as he caught sight of the
advancing troop, with their silvery cognizance. He gave the word, and
every arrow left its string. At the same moment, as both horse and
foot assailed the fancied foe, the momentary beam vanished from the
heaven, the two forces mingled in the sullen mists, when, after a
brief conflict, a sudden and horrible cry of "Treason! Treason!"
resounded from either band. The shining star of Oxford, returning
from the pursuit, had been mistaken for Edward's cognizance of the
sun. [Cont. Croyl., 555; Fabyan, Habington, Hume, S. Turner.] Friend
was slaughtering friend, and when the error was detected, each
believed the other had deserted to the foe. In vain, here Montagu and
Warwick, and there Oxford and his captains, sought to dispel the
confusion, and unite those whose blood had been fired against each
other. While yet in doubt, confusion, and dismay, rushed full into
the centre Edward of York himself, with his knights and riders; and
his tossing banners, scarcely even yet distinguished from Oxford's
starry ensigns, added to the general incertitude and panic. Loud in
the midst rose Edward's trumpet voice, while through the midst, like
one crest of foam upon a roaring sea, danced his plume of snow. Hark!
again, again--near and nearer--the tramp of steeds, the clash of
steel, the whiz and hiss of arrows, the shout of "Hastings to the
onslaught!" Fresh, and panting for glory and for blood, came on King
Edward's large reserve; from all the scattered parts of the field
spurred the Yorkist knights, where the uproar, so much mightier than
before, told them that the crisis of the war was come. Thither, as
vultures to the carcass, they flocked and wheeled; thither D'Eyncourt
and Lovell, and Cromwell's bloody sword, and Say's knotted mace; and
thither, again rallying his late half-beaten myrmidons, the grim