The records of Lyme as well as the old annalists and chroniclers are silent as to the part which Sir Peter Legh bore in the great struggle on Redland Heath[59] when the sun of the Plantagenets went down, and the claims of the rival Roses were finally decided; but we may be well assured that when commissions were addressed to "all the knights, esquires, and gentlemen" of Lancashire and Cheshire, and Lord Stanley was to "have their rule and leading," Sir Peter would not be idle or allow his armour to rust unused. His house owed allegiance to the White Rose. Richard had been his guest at Bradley, and had then conferred an annuity upon him; duty and gratitude should, therefore, equally have bound him to the cause of his Sovereign, but whether he was with the "stout fellows in white surcoats and hoods" who followed his cousin Sir John Savage into the thick of the fight, or in the camp of Lord Stanley, who looked down upon the fray with calculating judgment, beguiling both combatants with promises and assurances of sympathy while waiting to see on which side victory was likely to fall, we have no means of knowing. At ten o'clock on the morning of that memorable 22nd of August, 1485, while the sun, mounting high in the heavens, flashed on pike, and corslet, and helm, and brightened every pennon that lagged in the lazy air, with a great shout and a rattling shower of arrows the fight began. "Lord! how hastily," says Holinshed, "the soldiers buckled their helmets--how quickly the archers bent their bows and frushed their feathers--how readily the billmen shook their bills and proved their staves, ready to approach and join when the terrible trumpet should sound the bloody blast to victory or death." The Duke of Norfolk, who led the van of the royal army, singled out the Earl of Oxford, and engaged him in a personal encounter, for in those days the leaders deemed it a point of honour to fight hand to hand; his vizor was hewn off by a single blow, an arrow from a distance pierced his brain through his broken helmet, and he fell lifeless to the ground. The brave Surrey, hurrying up to avenge the death of his father, was overpowered by Sir John Savage, who led the left wing of Richmond's army, when he requested that his life might be taken to save him from dying by an ignoble hand. He was led to the rear, but lived to be the Surrey of Flodden Field, and the worthy transmitter of "all the blood of all the Howards," But the men whom Richard had loaded with benefits deserted him in the hour of his need with a treachery that proclaimed that the knell of chivalry was rung. Lord Stanley, who three nights before had held a secret interview with Richmond at Atherstone, stirred not a finger, nor moved a man, until the fate of the battle was decided, when he threw off his disguise and charged boldly against his master on his stepson's side. No strategy could now be of avail, and, in the effort of despair, Richard made the final charge upon his rival.