Among the retainers of feudal magnates of that age it was the fashion to wear a badge to indicate the personage whose banner they followed. From the time of the Crusades the badge of the house of De Vere had been a star with streams; and from the morning of Mortimer's Cross, the cognizance of the house of York had a sun in splendor. At Barnet, Oxford's men had the star embroidered on their coats; Edward's men the sun on their coats. The devices bore such a resemblance that, seen through a fog, one might easily be mistaken for the other; and it happened that on Gladsmuir Heath there was such a mistake. When Oxford had pursued the Yorkists under Hastings to the verge of the Heath, it occurred to him that he might render a signal service to his party by wheeling round and smiting Edward's centre in the flank. Unfortunately some Lancastrian archers, who perceived without comprehending this movement, mistook De Vere's star, in the mist, for Edward's sun, drew their bows to the head, and sent a flight of shafts rattling against the mail of the approaching cavalry. Oxford's horsemen instantly shouted "Treason! treason! we are all betrayed!" and Oxford, amazed at such treatment from his own party, and bewildered by the cry of "Treason!" that now came from all directions, concluded that there was foul play, and rode off the field at the head of eight hundred men. The plight of the Lancastrians was now rapidly becoming desperate; and Edward hastened their ruin by urging fresh troops upon their disordered ranks. Warwick, however, showed no inclination to yield. "The Stout Earl" in fact had been little accustomed to defeat; and such was the terror of his name that, on former occasions, the cry of "A Warwick! A Warwick!" had been sufficient to decide the fate of a field. But at St. Albans, at Northampton, and at Towton Field, the earl's triumphs had been achieved over Beauforts, Hollands, and Tudors, men of ordinary courage and average intellect. At Barnet he was in the presence of a warrior of prowess and a war-chief of pride, whose heart was not less bold, and whose eye was still more skillful than his own. Edward, in fact, could not help perceiving that nothing but a violent effort was now required to complete his victory. Up to this stage he appears to have issued commands to his friends with the skill of a Plantagenet: he now executed vengeance on his foes with the cruelty of a Mortimer. Mounted on his white steed, with his teeth firmly set, the spur pressing his horse's side, and his right hand lifted up to slay, he charged the disheartened Lancastrians, bearing down all opposition; and, instead of crying, as on former occasions, "Smite the captains, but spare the commons!" he said, "Spare none who favor the rebel earl!"