The King Dies In Battle

Skeleton of Richard III

   This past week, much was made about the apparent discovery of the bones of Great Britain's King Richard III. It was particularly big news here in London, Ontario because they were able to ascertain that this particular set of bones were indeed the king's through DNA testing which combined a sample from a former Londoner whose mother was a direct descendant of Richard.
   The injuries on the skeleton were consistent with the historical account of how Richard III died--as the result of taking an axe to the head in the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485. The skeleton also showed signs of scoliosis, a curvature of the spine which would produce a hunchback. Richard III is said to have been hunchbacked.
   The Battle of Bosworth Field marked the end of the Wars of the Roses and was the last time a British monarch was killed in battle.

Canadian Michael Ibsen, DNA provider, and a computer-generated 3D likeness of Richard III

   I found this whole story to be quite fascinating but the aspect of it that I found most thought-provoking was the fact that a reigning monarch had been engaged in a battle in the first place.
   Granted, these were medieval times and wars were carried out totally differently but how odd that the most important person in your country might be subjugated to an actual battle and all its obviously inherent danger.
   The death of Richard III and the end of the Wars of the Roses is regarded as the end of the medieval period, as well. I can only imagine that future monarchs, when faced with the possibility of having to take part in an actual battle, likely declined, on the grounds that doing so seemed so...well...medieval.
   It's interesting to ponder the future of war if the leaders of the various factions involved were required to physically participate. Barring that, would a war even begin if the leaders' family members were required to be the first to enter the fray. I think not.
   I wonder what Richard III was thinking as he rode off to battle that day. Did he know he would end up in the fiercest part of it? Did he begin the march far back at the rear of things or did he bravely (stupidly) affix himself to the forefront? Was he so enamoured of his own sovereignity that he imagined himself invulnerable in battle? Or was he as scared as any of the foot soldiers?

Depiction of the Battle of Bosworth Field--Richard III in a slightly better moment...

   After his death, Richard III's body was apparently subjected to all sorts of abuse and humiliation before it was unceremoniously dumped in a grave, without benefit of a shroud, coffin or even clothes. How demoralizing this must have been for his followers, to not only lose their king but then to have their noses rubbed in it, so to speak. Perhaps this is reason enough to leave your leaders out of the fray.
   As a combatant, I wonder what it must be like to have your leader, king or general fighting right along beside you. Would this be an uplifting and inspirational thing? Or a distraction? In the middle of a battle do we all become simply soldiers with nary a regard for crowns or rank?
   I have never been interested in soldiering. Were I to find myself in that situation, all I might want from a leader is to demonstrate that he or she was aware of my sacrifice and was prepared to go to the ends of the earth to enable me to fight and protect myself in the best way possible. In a perfect world, though, this sacrifice would be shared from top to bottom. In an even more perfect world, there would be no need for it.