Bosworth 1485: Psychology of a Battle
By Michael Jones
Reviewed January 26, 2023
Bosworth 1485, Psychology of a Battle does not present us with major groundbreaking discoveries, but is a lively and fascinating reinterpretation of the evidence and shows, among other things, that Richard III's defeat was by no means inevitable but was achieved only through extraordinary chance.
One of the first things Jones does is scrutinize the tropes that attached themselves to what happened at Bosworth as medieval minds tried to make sense of a king’s defeat. These include stories of Richard ending up isolated and abandoned, calling for help (Shakespeare emphasizes this with his “A horse” My kingdom for a horse!” scene); his supposing to have had a troubled sleep the night before the battle; the manifestation of signs and portents foretelling doom; and Richard’s failure to celebrate Mass before the battle.
Jones shows that variations of these same themes show up in stories surrounding previous unexpected battlefield outcomes, such as Charles the Bold at Morat nine years earlier, and Robert Artois at the battle of Courtrai in 1302. There was nothing unique about these same themes accreting around the events of Bosworth; these were instead a way of making the incomprehensible understandable.
The most important point Jones makes is to return Richard to the context of the medieval family, showing him not as an outsider and pariah, but as a dynastic figure who occupied a central place within his family mythology as the rightful successor and legitimate king.
It is also important to remember that the medieval sense of family and legacy, especially among the elite, created a kind of sacredness when it came to legitimate succession. While a killing such as is reputed to have been done to Richard’s nephews would undoubtedly provoke feelings of unease and discomfort in many, it would not necessarily place the perpetrator(s) beyond the pale. Unlike today, where society holds each human life sacred, during the Middle Ages and even into the Renaissance, such actions would have been understood – at least by those closest to the family – as a justified and necessary evil.
Before examining what happened at Bosworth, Jones looks at Richard’s family and brings out similarities between father and son, especially when it comes to the end of their lives. Both marched to battle to champion their right to the throne. Each wrested his right from his opponent through tarnishing his rival’s issue with the stigma of bastardy. In their final battles, both men mounted cavalry charges, and both were cut down in hand-to-hand combat. After the battle, the bodies of both men were mutilated. Both were denied a proper burial. And not mentioned in the book (because it was written before this happened), the remains of both were later reburied with great pomp and ceremony.
All these things came into play when the mythology surrounding the death of Richard, Duke of York, was created, changing events from an unfortunate, perhaps even foolish venture, to a tale of betrayal and martyrdom. This was carried out in large part through the efforts of York’s widow, Cecily Neville.
Cecily, the matriarch of the York family, was a woman who loved not only the good things in life (and had a husband who could afford her expensive habits) but also loved power. Although late in her life, she became a pious, almost reclusive widow living a semi-monastic life, there is nothing to suggest that this was so during the early part of her life. Instead, she was a dynamic woman who actively took part in politics and, contrary to Shakespeare’s portrayal of her, was a strong supporter of her youngest son when he claimed the crown. Plus, she had a scandal she'd kept hidden, one that had a major impact on later events.
Also explored is Richard’s personal and public piety, his founding, refurbishing, and otherwise supporting numerous religious institutions, and his well-known interest in going on Crusade, with the suggestion that some of this was a search for redemption for sins committed while on his path to the throne of England.
When Edward IV died in the spring of 1483, these and other family dynamics were the driving force behind Richard, who saw himself as his father’s true heir, claiming the crown for himself.
There’s more to Jones’s theory, but I’ll leave that for you to read since this is a review and not a rewrite. I will say that some of what Jones suggests strikes a chord within me and that I can easily imagine Richard seeing himself as York’s one true heir.
On the whole, I found this book highly entertaining, even though I have to question some of the author’s interpretations of events, especially his reliance on Thomas More and Polydore Vergil. While the works of both (More’s History of King Richard III and Vergil’s History of England) have many good points, and both men were intelligent scholars who may have been able to speak to people who were living back in the 1480s, the simple fact is that both works were written decades after the events depicted. As any attorney or prosecutor will tell you, over time, even eyewitnesses can get their accounts garbled. That these accounts were written during the reigns of Henry VII and Henry VII should also raise red flags to be alert for unintended (or even intentional) bias.
When it comes to Thomas More, Jones believes that Jane Shore, Edward IV’s one-time mistress, was the source for much of his book, but I wonder how much a woman who by that time was in her 80s could remember accurately. Would she really have been on hand when Duchess Cecily viciously castigated Edward, as Jones suggests might have happened? Would Edward IV confide, even to a beloved mistress, the scandalous circumstances surrounding his birth?
The book is intended for a general reading audience, and while there are end notes, maps, family trees, and other appendices, the text is presented in a way that makes the narrative clear and easy to understand, even for a Wars of the Roses newbie. I give this book 4 stars for being extremely readable and entertaining.