The villagers were at mass in Saxton Church when "the celebration with palms and spears began," for it was Palm Sunday. The heavy clouds hung low in the sombre sky, and as the wind arose the snow began to fall heavily, and was driven full into the faces of the Lancastrians. It was nine o'clock when, from the heavy masses of Edward's army, looming portentiously through the thickened air, the flight arrows descended upon the Lancastrians, and mingled with the wind-driven snow. In an instant the snow was red with blood, and dead and wounded men encumbered the ground. Falconberg having advanced his archers, and struck the first blow, retired them, drawing the Lancastrian fire. The Queen's archers shot fierce and fast, but uselessly exhausted their quivers, when the Yorkists took a terrible revenge, pouring a deadly sleet of arrows upon their enemies. It is said that they drew the Lancastrian arrows from the soil, leaving a few to impede the Queen's advance. Somerset determined to close, and ordered a general advance. Knights dashed from point to point along the lines; Northumberland and Trollope closed their decimated ranks, and moved to the attack. Edward's army had suffered little, and was kept well in hand. It advanced steadily to meet the tide of war that surged madly forward through the mirk air and falling snow. King Edward commanded the centre: the lion of England crested his helmet, he carried a long lance, with a peculiar vamplate, and the crimson velvet housings of his steed were powdered with suns and white roses. When the armies joined battle, he dismounted, and fought on foot. Warwick commanded the right wing, Lord Falconberg the left, and Sir John Denman and Sir John Venloe were in charge of the rear-guard "As if battle were the gate of Paradise, and the future an incomprehensible dream, they raised against each other a tumultuous shout of execration and defiance." The front ranks struck, with shivering of knightly lances on the wings, and with deadly play of mauls, of bills and pikes in the van. The slaughter was dreadful: the moans of the dying were drowned in the clashing of steel, fierce war-cries, and the rush of stormy winds. Savagely assailed, and beaten by the pitiless, incessant snow, the Lancastrians valiantly maintained their ground, although their original superiority in numbers was more than balanced by their first losses and their exposed position. The front ranks fought desperately, for Edward of York had issued orders that no quarter should be extended to the vanquished. The archers of York poured their last arrows into the rear of the Queen's army.