![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I was a teenage Ricardian
Nov. 21st, 2023 07:30 pmOn Saturday Channel 4 devoted nearly two hours of prime time to a documentary which promised to shed new light on the mystery of the Princes in the Tower: on Sunday we watched it. I was sceptical, but I wasn't going to miss it - see the title of this post. Philippa Langley, described as "the writer who located the final resting place of Richard III" has apparently discovered new documentary evidence, and enlists Rob Rinder, wearing his criminal barrister's hat (his other career in daytime tv is never mentioned) to assess it critically.
Since the trailer shows Philippa Langley murmuring "I think they survived..." I don't think it's a spoiler to say that my immediate expectation - that this was going to be about the pretenders known as Lambert Simnel and Perkin Warbeck - was correct. With the aid of an army of volunteers across Europe, she had apparently unearthed four significant documents. I say "apparently" because I don't actually know how new this material is: it was presented as shattering and world-changing, but so were things that I already knew - that's how Saturday night television works. They are, if I am remembering correctly: an entry in the accounts of Emperor Maximilian for weapons to support 'the son of Edward IV' to claim his throne; an account from the court of Maximilian of the Emperor recognising Richard by certain birthmarks; a document, complete with royal seal, in which Richard promises to pay 30,000 florins to Duke Albert of Saxony after gaining the English throne; and a first person account (in old Dutch) by Richard of his escape and (very circuitous) travels.
In order to examine these, Langley and Rinder had to visit several European libraries, and other places associated with the story. This provided a generous helping of eye-candy. I was particularly impressed with somewhere I think was Mechelen, where Margaret of York had her court (I didn't recognise the name, but the internet suggests a French name, Malines, which does ring a faint bell): worth a visit... The camera also lingered lovingly over each of the documents in turn, and that, too, was a pleasure, picking out words and phrases (often obligingly highlighted, which always makes it easier).
So there was much to enjoy. But.
Great emphasis was placed on establishing that the documents were genuine, but it was assumed throughout that if they were genuine, they must be true: lying had apparently not been invented in the fifteenth century. If the seal says 'Richard, King of England, then the person who affixed that seal must be the rightful king of England, even if he has not yet taken possession of his throne - somehow, the seal has come into being. If the accounts show that money has been spent on weapons, then the cause in which those weapons were carried must be a just one. To introduce some last minute jeopardy, Rob Rinder consults Janina Ramirez, and she points out that the first person narrative is a touch too good to be true: it reads like something concocted to present its audience with the sort of exciting story they want to hear. He is shaken by this, but he gets another expert to look at the document, and pronounce it genuinely of the time and place of its purported creation, so faith is re-established.
Philippa Langley is partisan, and I sympathise: I can see why she believes the narrative she builds on these documents. But I don't believe that Rinder doesn't see the flaw, and I am insulted that he thinks I won't notice it either. I didn't expect much from this programme in the way of depth or historical background; if anything, I expected less than there was. But I was left speechless at its brazen disregard of the big hole in the middle of its case.
Since the trailer shows Philippa Langley murmuring "I think they survived..." I don't think it's a spoiler to say that my immediate expectation - that this was going to be about the pretenders known as Lambert Simnel and Perkin Warbeck - was correct. With the aid of an army of volunteers across Europe, she had apparently unearthed four significant documents. I say "apparently" because I don't actually know how new this material is: it was presented as shattering and world-changing, but so were things that I already knew - that's how Saturday night television works. They are, if I am remembering correctly: an entry in the accounts of Emperor Maximilian for weapons to support 'the son of Edward IV' to claim his throne; an account from the court of Maximilian of the Emperor recognising Richard by certain birthmarks; a document, complete with royal seal, in which Richard promises to pay 30,000 florins to Duke Albert of Saxony after gaining the English throne; and a first person account (in old Dutch) by Richard of his escape and (very circuitous) travels.
In order to examine these, Langley and Rinder had to visit several European libraries, and other places associated with the story. This provided a generous helping of eye-candy. I was particularly impressed with somewhere I think was Mechelen, where Margaret of York had her court (I didn't recognise the name, but the internet suggests a French name, Malines, which does ring a faint bell): worth a visit... The camera also lingered lovingly over each of the documents in turn, and that, too, was a pleasure, picking out words and phrases (often obligingly highlighted, which always makes it easier).
So there was much to enjoy. But.
Great emphasis was placed on establishing that the documents were genuine, but it was assumed throughout that if they were genuine, they must be true: lying had apparently not been invented in the fifteenth century. If the seal says 'Richard, King of England, then the person who affixed that seal must be the rightful king of England, even if he has not yet taken possession of his throne - somehow, the seal has come into being. If the accounts show that money has been spent on weapons, then the cause in which those weapons were carried must be a just one. To introduce some last minute jeopardy, Rob Rinder consults Janina Ramirez, and she points out that the first person narrative is a touch too good to be true: it reads like something concocted to present its audience with the sort of exciting story they want to hear. He is shaken by this, but he gets another expert to look at the document, and pronounce it genuinely of the time and place of its purported creation, so faith is re-established.
Philippa Langley is partisan, and I sympathise: I can see why she believes the narrative she builds on these documents. But I don't believe that Rinder doesn't see the flaw, and I am insulted that he thinks I won't notice it either. I didn't expect much from this programme in the way of depth or historical background; if anything, I expected less than there was. But I was left speechless at its brazen disregard of the big hole in the middle of its case.
