Some 700 years ago, at the Tower of London,
amidst the usual screams of terror, you might have heard
the sighs of an amorous Frenchman.
Charles, Duke of Orleans, had been captured in battle at Agincourt.
His 24 years as a prisoner were whiled away writing love poems.
"Strengthen, my love, this castle of my heart,
"And with some store of pleasure, give me aid."
The poems were well known among the European elite of the day.
This edition was hand-made for England's Royal Library
in the 1470s.
What's most interesting is how these French poems
have been presented for an English audience.
'The author is pictured at his "noble" work,
'but step back a little,
'and it's clear he's the captive of English troops.
'He's imprisoned in the dazzling whiteness of the Tower.
'And he's engulfed by the splendour of London.
'This is the very first topographically accurate image
'of the city.'
All this celebrates not the work of a French poet,
but the power of the English nation.
This manuscript is sending out a clear message.
England is once again a force to be reckoned with,
and its kings want to be players on the world stage.
'And their weapon of choice, when competing with European rivals
'to be the most magnificent of monarchs, was the manuscript.'
'For this series,
'I've been given unrivalled access to the Crown Jewels of illumination,
'the royal Manuscripts Collection at the British Library.
'Few people have ever seen these miraculous survivors,
'except for the monarchs who owned them.
They were custom made for kings, they were about kings,
and they were read by kings.
'I've been exploring the world which created these manuscripts.
'And going to the places where they were made.
'It's a journey that's taken me from the Anglo Saxons,
'who first united England,
'through centuries of conquest and conflict with France.
'In this episode, the story of the Royal Manuscripts
'draws to its conclusion,
'with the last great flowering of illumination,
'and the role books played for the Tudors.
'I'm on the trail of three kings who led England
'out of the Medieval world and into its Renaissance.
'In 1476, William Caxton began printing in England.'
'One of his patrons was Margaret of York, the sister of King Edward IV.'
'Yet, surprisingly, the arrival of this modern technology
'didn't mean the death of handwritten, hand-painted books.
'In fact, some of the great achievements of the Renaissance
'would take place in a medieval art form,
'which proved remarkably durable.'
Of course, the arrival of cheaper, more easily produced printed books
had an effect on the market for illuminated manuscripts.
These bespoke artworks became even more of a luxury good.
'Now, the illuminator's art was only an option
'for the very wealthiest of elites.
'Chief among them, royalty.
'One of the biggest collectors of all in the late 15th century
'was Edward of York, the King of England.
'And in a highly secure inner sanctum of the British Library,
'the collection which this king built up
'still remains largely intact.
'This is just one of up to 50 books Edward is believed to have had made.
'The first thing that strikes you is the choice of language.
'At a time when books were being printed in English,
'the ruling classes still favoured handwritten French.
'It was the language of the elite,
'as exclusive as the manuscript itself had become.'
Nearly all the manuscripts Edward commissioned
have something in common. They were histories.
'This book's title is Miroir Historial, which is one reason why
'its author, Vincent de Beauvais, is pictured with a looking glass.
'The subject reflects the interests and tastes of its royal reader.'
Edward personally led his army
into some of the most important battles in the War of the Roses.
He was sent away into foreign exile, and he even deposed Henry VI twice.
Edward's life WAS history.
'There's something else which Edward would have identified with here.
'The number of books on display.
'A library has become something to aspire to.'
And of course, Edward IV is building up a collection like this himself,
so this image would have flattered the King,
by implying that he too was a great scholar.
'But scholarship wasn't the King's only motive
'for building his library.
'And that becomes clear when you see the book's original home.
'When first completed,
'they would have been carried in wooden chests across this bridge.
'It led to the King's favourite palace, Eltham, in South London.
'The only Medieval section still to survive was created by Edward,
'and it shows how different he was from his royal predecessor.'
During the chaotic reign of Henry VI,
the Crown lost virtually all its territories in France.
The land was corrupt and lawless,
and the King himself for a time was a raving lunatic.
Edward's mission was to rebuild the reputation of the monarchy.
And to do that, he built this great hall.
'Although the stunning hammerbeam ceiling looks just as it did
'when completed in 1480,
'the walls lack the ornate tapestries which once hung here.
'There's some sense of what they looked like
'in this portrait of Edward, from one of his manuscripts.'
Edward IV is a king with a strong sense of style.
When he has this built, he is creating for himself
a stage at which the spectacle of monarchy will be able to be enacted.
There's a strong sense that this is to do with
the personal image of the King.
How he will appear.
It didn't do him any damage that he was ridiculously good looking and very tall.
But he likes his clothes, he likes his jewellery,
he likes all the trappings.
The sun in splendour is his heraldic insignia,
and it's entirely appropriate.
So, it's the look of a king. He's trying to get the look of a king.
Yes, but I wouldn't suggest there's anything frivolous about that.
The look of a king is a vital part of statecraft.
Remember, he has lived through the Wars of the Roses,
and the disastrous reign of his predecessor Henry VI,
who no-one thought looked like a king.
Henry VI, who, when times got tough, would hide in a monastery.
That isn't Edward IV's style.
He knows that to be a king, you've got to look the part,
and he looks the part.
So, all this lavishness that you've described,
that I can see all around me, comes through in the manuscripts.
All Edward IV's manuscripts are these large tomes.
They're big display books,
and they've got all this colour and amazing intricate detail in them.
And it's just amazing to think about these surroundings, you know,
this magnificent ceiling, the tapestries,
all that jewellery and plate, and then these beautiful bound books
in the midst of all of that.
Yeah, all these things are the props of the monarchy.
And they all have to be here for it to work as well as it did.
'Collecting fine manuscripts posed a particular challenge for Edward.
'England could no longer boast the best illuminators.
'For centuries now, royal manuscripts had been made in France.
'But since Henry VI had lost England's territories
'on the other side of the Channel, Edward had to find another source.
'He turned to the centre for must-have luxury goods at the time.
'Bruges.
'In the late 15th century, the city was part of the Duchy of Burgundy,
'and one of the commercial and artistic powerhouses of Europe.
'The unique qualities of the place had a visible impact
'on the manuscripts produced here.
'Take, for example, this image, from one of Edward's books.'
How do we know it was made here in Bruges?
Well, for starters, there's a handy visual clue.
If you look through the window in the background, you can see
these red brick buildings with crenellated facades
reflected in the water.
And even today, that's what this beautiful medieval city looks like.
'But there's more to the Bruges style
'than a love of local landscape.
'What's most distinctive is the whole approach to painting.
'The picture imagines the book's author, Giovanni Boccaccio,
'meeting Lady Fortune, the personification of chance.
'But this supernatural apparition isn't really
'the centre of attention here.
'In fact, a third character is more interested
'in what's outside the window than a woman with six arms.
'This image anticipates later Dutch painters such as Vermeer,
'because its real subject is the natural textures of reality.
'It's all about the play of light and shade,
'the perspective of the room, the quality of the landscape.'
It's the realism of the images made here in Bruges
that set them apart from earlier manuscript illuminations.
They are truly exceptional,
and represent a real break from the Medieval past.
We are now firmly in the Renaissance.
'Even in the borders of these images, there's a new realism.
'A near-scientific observation of the natural world.
'These are achievements more usually associated with figures
'such as Van Eyck, who also worked in Bruges in the 15th century.
'At that time,
'skilled illuminators were seen as the equals of talented oil painters.
'The two worlds influenced each other, and some artists
'worked in both forms.
'But posterity has favoured the work which went on public display.'
There are some masterpieces of the Northern Renaissance
that remain largely unknown to this day,
because they don't hang on the walls of museums.
They're contained within the covers of manuscripts,
and locked within libraries.
'Yet it's in books of the time that some of the innovations
'of the artistic Renaissance first appear.'
We see an entirely new art genre here in Bruges.
The landscape painting.
Instead of filling illuminations with figures and narratives,
we now get landscape for landscape's sake.
'This is one of the very first European paintings
'to take the countryside as its chief subject.
'The way it captures the qualities of the natural world
'anticipates great names such as Constable.
'Yet it was painted not on canvas or wood,
'but on the pages of a Bruges manuscript
'called Treasure D'Histoire.
'Given their increasingly secular subjects,
'it's apt that Bruges manuscripts were produced
'not in monastic scriptoria, but in commercial workshops.
'Both the quality of the craftsmanship
'and the cutting edge style made Flemish workmanship fit for a king.
'But there was a further reason why Edward was familiar
'with the art of Bruges.
'When exiled from England by Henry VI,
'he had lived here in this mansion,
'which belonged to a noble friend.'
I can imagine Edward IV would have been impressed when he stayed here.
Bruges was a very wealthy city at this point,
stuffed full of craftspeople and artisans,
producing the very finest clothing, jewellery and of course manuscripts.
'The court Edward created on his return to England
'was a deliberate attempt to compete with the magnificence he'd witnessed
'in the Duchy of Burgundy.
'He succeeded not only in rebuilding the image of the English monarchy,
'but also restoring its strength.
'His reign was a long and peaceful one.
'Just how well Edward had managed to hold England together
'became obvious when he died in 1483.
'The Wars of the Roses erupted once more.
'They were only settled for good when the usurping Richard III
'was defeated in the Battle of Bosworth Field by the founder
'of one of the greatest royal dynasties, Henry Tudor.
'It was said he plucked Richard's discarded crown
'from a hawthorne bush, and his heraldry often incorporated this,
'along with the red dragon, which was on his standard at Bosworth,
'and the white greyhound
'of his Lancastrian ancestors.
'Though Henry and his descendants changed English history,
'at the start of his reign,
'it wasn't certain he could survive in the job.
'His claim to the throne was weak, depending on a female line
'and an illegitimate ancestor.
'So the image he sought to portray was different from the glamour
'favoured by Edward IV.
'And the mission for manuscripts in Henry's reign is to prove
'both his right to rule and his nobility.'
In order to bolster his claim to the throne,
Henry VII selects a very specific set of symbols
that will add legitimacy and mystique to the Tudor dynasty.
We find them throughout manuscripts associated with him,
and this one is full of them.
'The red dragon makes another appearance.
'It was the symbol of the last king of the ancient Britons,
'Cadwaladr, from whom Henry claimed descent.
'And later in the book, the dragon's entwined
'with another recurring symbol, the hawthorn bush with the crown.
'Other imagery reminds readers that Henry had united
'the warring houses of Lancaster and York.'
Here in the borders,
we can see that the War of the Roses has reached its symbolic conclusion.
Red and white roses intertwine to symbolise
the marriage between Henry VII and Elizabeth of York.
'On the same page, we have an image of the Tudor court.
'The King inspects this very book.
'What the figures of state have gathered to see is something
'very different to the history texts Edward IV would have shown them.
'At the front are pages of dense data.
'These are calculations of planetary movements
'by an Oxford academic, John Killingworth.'
What's interesting about this manuscript is that
these pages of mathematical information have been given
the royal treatment with the inclusion of these gold columns.
At Henry's court, science and scholarship more generally,
were held in the highest esteem, and Henry wanted to be their patron.
'Sponsoring learning was one way Henry could prove his worth,
'and compensate for the lowly status of some of his ancestors.
'These days, however,
'the manuscript wouldn't be classified as scientific.
'In modern terms, its subject is not astronomy, but astrology.
'Though at the time, the distinction between the two was less clear.
'Constellations have been plotted
'to divine what's written in the stars for the reader.'
'Later in the book, there's even a collection of ancient prophecies
'about the future of the English monarchy.
'Some attributed to Merlin!
'You can understand why the king this was all created for
'might have been anxious about his future.'
Henry was all too aware that his hold on the throne was vulnerable.
By the time this manuscript was made,
he'd already put down a rebellion.
So I can imagine a collection of texts that prophesises
the success of his family and the length of his reign
must have been quite appealing. And actually quite reassuring.
'But it's still a little strange to find science and magic
'jumbled up together in the library of a Christian king.
'To try to understand these apparent contradictions,
'I've come to Merton College in Oxford.
'This was where the mathematician
'who wrote some of the manuscript was a tutor.
'And the warden here at the time was one of Henry's closest courtiers,
'a bishop called Richard Fitzjames.
'He commissioned some sculpture which resembles
'the manuscript in both style and subject.'
We're looking at astrological symbols,
and they're all here. The spring ones starting with Aries,
the summer ones starting with Cancer,
then the autumn ones starting with Libra, the scales over there,
and then we've got the winter ones ending with Pisces.
Right next to the Royal Arms of Henry VII.
Yes, cos that's what's right here in the centre, isn't it?
It's dominating the whole composition. Absolutely.
And I think you'd have to say that Henry VII is ruling the cosmos.
It's as powerful a statement as that.
And they've been put here by a bishop. You see, that surprises me.
It might seem a bit strange to us today to imagine that a bishop
would be interested in this, but you mustn't think about it like that.
Remember, it's 1497, it's the height of the Northern Renaissance,
and astrology isn't a kind of thing for people in Sunday magazines.
We're here in Merton College,
so some of the most famous astrologers were trained here,
like John Ashenden, who was thought to have predicted the Plague.
So, astrology was part of the science of the day.
'During Henry's reign,
'this beautiful oak-panelled roof was built for Merton's library.
'Once again, there's Henry VII's coat of arms
'alongside other Tudor insignia.
'And in 1502, exactly when the ceiling was constructed,
'another astrological manuscript was presented to Henry VII.'
OK, so, what have we got here, then?
Well, now it's time to introduce you to William Parron.
Now, William Parron is an Italian astrologer,
and he is the first court astrologer that any English king takes on.
What he's done here is cast a chart for Prince Henry of York,
who's the future King Henry VIII.
It's a personal horoscope. Absolutely. This is special.
Astrology in this period is a royal art,
something you pay a specialist to do for you.
You can't just pick up a newspaper and have a reading done.
It has to be done for you by someone who's got
the nous and the professionalism to do it.
Overall, what have we got? We've got the classic horoscope diagram,
which is a square within a square.
You'd get your astronomical data, OK, here's the planets and so on,
that's the data there. And then you would discuss it theme by theme.
So, life, wealth, death, and in the centre,
what is in the centre? Of course, the Earth!
We've in fact got what was called a "mappa mundi," a map of the world.
It makes more sense round that way.
It sure does. Clearly, this is the north, cos there's Greenland.
And fascinatingly, this strange sort of nodule here says "Angland".
Angland, yeah. We can see Europa.
There seems to be a lot of detail here,
layer upon layer of meaning. What does this tell us,
do you think, about the mindset of Henry at this stage?
Well, I think Henry was impressed by the magnificence
and glamour of astrology.
It was the most sophisticated stuff.
Other princes might have been able to send explorers around Africa.
Henry was interested in bringing to his court Italian humanists.
He was interested in educating his children, giving them
a very sophisticated grasp of languages.
And I think that's what we see here,
that astrology was a window into a way of looking at the world.
It was a scientific and modern way of looking at the world too.
'There is, however, an obvious problem when astrology is
'treated as a science, which this manuscript demonstrates.'
In the text following the birth chart,
Parron makes a number of predictions.
One is that the future Henry VIII will be a loyal Catholic
and happily married father to many sons.
'And for Henry VII,
'what must have raised doubts is a prediction that his queen,
'Elizabeth of York, would live to at least to the age of 80.'
Elizabeth died within a year of this book being written, aged just 37.
William Parron disappeared soon after from the English court,
and from historical records.
'Fortunately, the scholarship that Henry VII sponsored
'wasn't confined to stargazing.
'Here, he's being presented with a work of Greek history,
'Xenophon's Anabasis.
'The Frenchman who translated it, Claude de Seyssel, visited England
'in 1506, and noted an intriguing detail about the English King.'
De Seyssel has been shown Henry's newly constructed library.
He writes that it is "tres belle et tres bien acoustree."
Very beautiful and very well appointed.
'That room was probably at Henry's palace in Richmond,
'long since demolished.
'But there are other accounts of it.
'One involves Catherine of Aragon, who'd come to England in 1502.'
When Catherine's entourage returned to Spain, she needed cheering up,
so Henry took her and her ladies-in-waiting to his library.
We've got an account of this visit.
Apparently, he "showed unto her many goodly pleasant books,
"of works full delightful.
"Sage, merry and also reet cunning."
He clearly knew how to show a girl a good time.
'A library at this time appears to have been
'something rare and exciting.'
It's hard to imagine the novelty, in the 16th century,
of seeing a whole room exclusively dedicated to the display of books.
In fact, we simply don't know
what this royal library looked like at all.
'Previously, only religious and academic institutions
'kept large collections of books. Merton College was one of them.
'But back in 1502, the books in this library
'wouldn't have been on shelves.
'They were kept in chests.
'This one was used by the university at that time.
'Records suggest Edward IV stored his books in something similar.
'Although no Tudor palace libraries survive,
'something still remains which helps us imagine their splendour.'
This is an incredibly rare survival. This is an original Tudor binding.
'This book, a guide to the Holy Land,
'was noted in an inventory of 1547 as being covered
'with the same embroidered velvet we can still see today.
'Once, hundreds of books in the royal library
'were bound as magnificently as this.
'But the covers have fared far worse than the contents.
'Now, just a handful of them remain.'
It's only when you see this binding that you can fully appreciate
the impact that a royal manuscript once had.
Even before you glimpse the wonderful artwork within,
this impresses and dazzles.
They say you can't judge a book by its cover,
but it's clear that many people did.
'That means we're in danger of misunderstanding these objects,
'because so few of them retain their intended appearance.
'Which is why I've come to a place where the traditions
'so valued by Medieval kings are still being followed.'
'James Brockman has been re-binding historic books for 45 years,
'and now his son Stuart has joined him in the family business.
'To repair and preserve ancient books, James and Stuart
'have learned the same processes used by their original creators.'
We'd like to think that if a binder from 800 years ago came here,
he would recognise what we're doing,
because we're using all the original techniques.
'Just as they were in royal manuscripts,
'the pages of these books are sewn together by hand.'
Effectively, you're stitching the pages above to the ones below.
That's right. We're locking one section to the previous one.
'The quires, three or four pages folded inside each other,
'are bound together by tying the thread round tougher cords,
'then passing it through the pages.'
Is that right? That's it, yeah.
I've seen pictures of this.
I never thought I'd actually have a chance to do it myself.
How old is this book again? Er, it's a printed book from about 1480.
No pressure, then? No pressure at all, none at all.
And how long does it take?
A book of this size probably takes around a day's work.
A whole day. But it's worth it.
The strength of the structure will last 300 years.
'When all the pages are stitched together,
'a manuscript is knocked into shape,
'before being clamped into a laying press to treat the edges.'
And this is actual gold?
Yes, it's almost pure.
Pure gold.
Gosh, it's so light, it's just floating as you move it.
And then you cut the gold...
into strips.
And then these are gilders tips.
Right. Oh, wow, yes, almost like cat hair or something.
Yes. I'm not sure what it is. Really, really soft. Very fine.
Then you need a bit of grease from your hair, like this.
And then you can pick the gold up on the gilders tip. Wow.
I love the idea that this was being done 300 years ago.
People wiping their hair!
'The Royal Accounts of 1480 record the King's books being gilded
'in just this way, and covered and garnished,
'at a cost of thousands of pounds each in today's money.'
I like that, it's like the illumination inside's
being brought out. Yes, exactly.
This burnishing gives us the brilliant gold gilt edges
that we get on early manuscripts, and here's an example.
See, this really excites me.
As a kid, I used to love the gold edges on things like diaries
and books, but it is an insight for me into the mind
of the kings that commissioned these manuscripts.
They clearly want these things to look good from the outside.
It's not just what's inside. No. The gold really dresses the edges.
It turns the book into a treasure, doesn't it? It does.
'The next stage is to give the book its hard covers.
'Stuart and James plane these solid wooden boards from oak.
'Then comes the gift wrapping.'
We're thinking of maybe using this wonderful purple here
for covering this little manuscript.
'Many ancient books were rebound in leather during the 19th century.
'But the Brockmans use the fabrics favoured by Medieval monarchs.
'Crimson velvet was the most luxurious.
'One yard cost as much as 60 days of a mason's labour.'
And I cut it plenty generous, so there's plenty of turning,
top and bottom.
Every aspect of the process you've shown me seems so time consuming.
How long would it take to complete a binding?
I suppose a manuscript like this would probably take around 100 hours.
100 hours of actual labour, working? Yes, yes.
'When you add on the months of skilled craft put in by the scribes
'and illuminators, and the months required to make fine vellum,
'you realise how labour intensive the production of manuscripts was.
'And why kings were among the few people who could ever afford them.
'And here's one the Tudors made earlier.'
This is a manuscript that makes me go weak at the knees.
Probably the most magnificent binding to survive from Tudor times.
And it's clear it's from
the court of Henry VII
because it's got his coat of arms here in the middle,
and his livery, the portcullis with the green and white background.
We haven't entered the manuscript yet and it screams magnificence.
You can see the velvet, burgundy velvet.
And over here, you can see how the binding was originally stitched.
These are the ropes, just showing through on the velvet.
And the clasps are breathtaking in their detail.
They're silver, they look like they've been gilded,
with a rose in the middle and these amazing angels
that attach to these threads, with the gold woven all the way through.
There's even the original tassel here.
It's just amazing that this has survived
in such remarkable condition.
'The antique velvet is now so delicate,
'the edges can no longer be safely tucked in,
'and the book requires assistance to open.
'I'm wearing gloves for once,
'because contact with the metal clasps could corrode them.
'And what's inside the covers is no less impressive.'
There's this beautiful pink damask on the inside,
and down here, these silver tins
attached to the manuscript.
They've got the King's rose and crown on them.
And if I open one up...
..like this...inside, there's another image.
Here we have the King enthroned in this architectural setting,
wielding the regalia, the orb and sceptre.
These are wax seals.
'They're required because this manuscript is actually
'a legal contract.
'It's an agreement between Henry and Westminster Abbey.
'The King is depicted giving the monks this very manuscript.'
More usually, legal documents, even royal ones, would take the form
of a single piece of parchment, so the fact that this is in book form,
and it's so lavishly coloured, means it must be something pretty special.
'This is Henry VII making plans for his afterlife.
'He's specifying the exact rituals he expects to be performed for him.'
So here, he's put in arrangements for the souls of him and his family
to be prayed for in perpetuity.
It says here, "Shall endure daily mass
"and divine service for the good and prosperous estate
"of our said sovereign Lord, the King, and the souls of his family."
'This isn't just a wish list, it's a binding contract,
'which was hand-made in duplicate.
'One copy was with the King, and the other with the Abbey.'
You can see here, there's a wavy line that's been cut into
the top of the book.
If we had the other copy, the two would fit together
and the wavy lines would interlock.
That's why this kind of legal document is called an indenture.
That's the French for "toothed".
This document doesn't just detail the prayers that are to be said
for the souls of the King and his family after death.
It also gives detailed information about his tomb.
It says here,
"A tomb there shall be made for the interment of the body
"of our said sovereign Lord, the King,
"and a chapel of metal made thereabouts."
'When Henry VIII broke away from the Catholic Church,
'Westminster lost the monks his father imagined
'would still be praying for him today.
'But Henry VII's chapel
'is preserved just as the manuscript specified.
'It's one of the finest late-Gothic buildings in Europe.
'Around the walls are 95 original statues of saints.
'It's one of the most visibly Catholic spaces
'still remaining from this period of English history.
'It was intended not just as a royal resting place,
'but also a shrine to the Virgin Mary.
'Henry was a supporter of the cult of the Immaculate Conception.'
It's hard to believe that imagery like this, a generation later,
was being destroyed at the behest of Henry's own son.
'Only a few decades before the break with Rome, it's clear that England
'was a deeply Catholic nation, and its King shared that faith.
'Henry's tomb remains the centrepiece of the chapel.
'As one contemporary wrote,
'"He dwelleth more richly dead than he did at any of his palaces."'
As a statement of the permanence of your family's position,
this mausoleum's hard to argue with.
'By the time he'd died, on the 21st of April 1509,
'Henry had successfully transformed the shaky Tudor claim to the throne
'into what looked like a permanent hold on kingship.
'His son and heir was determined to build on that inheritance.
'Henry VIII marks the culmination
'of the English royal manuscript tradition.
'The imagery of monarchy is never more complex,
'revealing or magnificent than in his reign.'
'This manuscript dates from when Henry was just 25 years old,
'but already in the seventh year of his rule.
'It was a gift from an Antwerp merchant,
'and begins with a long poem praising the King.'
And here is Henry's name,
highlighted in gold.
'The artwork is stuffed with symbols of England and the Tudors.
'Everything in this image has a meaning.'
Henry was a famously accomplished individual.
He was very well educated, he spoke several languages.
He wrote books and he was also an excellent sportsman.
And this is clearly a gift
intended for a Renaissance prince.
In many ways, this frontispiece
is an intellectual game
or challenge, where these complex
visual symbols wrap around
and intertwine with
the allegorical poem within.
'The verse describes how a single root
'here produces different flowers.
'Since the blooms are clearly Tudor roses,
'they can be identified as Henry and his sisters, Margaret and Mary.
'The King, of course, is the tallest.
'Growing by the side of the English rosebush
'is an exotic pomegranate tree, symbol of Henry's Queen at the time,
'Catherine of Aragon.'
It's heavy with fruit that's literally bursting open,
and it reflects Henry's desire for a male heir.
'All of this grows, naturally enough, in a garden.
'And because it's the garden of England, it's on an island,
'and heavily defended.'
This is fortress England.
It's strong and secure under Henry, and even though it's a garden,
it's protected by warships.
'The shape of the rosebush is also significant.
'It's the outline of a musical instrument, a lyre.'
Alongside the specially produced
poetry and art,
this manuscript is full of music,
composed to delight the King.
'The first piece is written in this novel, circular form,
'and turns the previous pages' poetry into song.'
The way that the notation spirals around the rose inside
reinforces this idea of the fortress on the frontispiece.
Henry is probably the most musical monarch England's ever produced.
From the time of his coronation, he kept at least 25 musicians at court,
and he composed music himself.
So, of course, he'd be able to read this notation,
but he'd also be able to read the symbolism.
'Presumably, this piece was once performed in Henry's court,
'but because it wasn't published elsewhere, it never reached
'a wider audience.'
It's sad to think that so much creativity has been
poured into this gift for the King,
and yet it went unheard for centuries, locked away in a library.
CHOIR SINGS
'In recent years, however, the piece has been rediscovered
'by early music specialists, such as the Brabant Ensemble.'
This is such evocative music.
It's so strange to think that this was written
for the ears of the King 500 years ago.
It almost sounds odd or discordant in places,
and I think that's because I can hear the spiralling notes,
the voices overlapping with each other and the pitch changing,
just like we see it depicted in the manuscript.
Out of all the manuscripts I've encountered,
this is the most multi-dimensional.
I can read the words, I can see the notes
and the beautiful illuminations, and I can hear it.
'There are several other pieces of music written for the manuscript.
'And nearly all of them share a particular theme.'
They're singing praise for the Virgin Mary,
and this reminds me that, before his divorce,
of course, Henry was a famously devout Catholic.
But specifically, they're referring to her
as "magnificent channel, excellent vessel."
This is a song glorifying childbirth.
'It was a subject close to Henry's heart.
'Anyone hearing this in 1516 would have thought
'of Catherine of Aragon, and the expectation that
'she would soon produce a male heir to the Tudor line.
'Of course, the consequences when she failed to do so
'changed England's history.'
'In the British Library, there's evidence of the woman
'who replaced Catherine in Henry's affection, and inspired him
'to seek first divorce and then a break with the Roman church.'
This is a personal prayer book that was in use
within the royal household.
Inside it, we can find evidence
that the early readers' minds
weren't always on the sacred contents.
'Turning the pages, we find an image of the Man of Sorrows,
'from the Book of Isaiah.
'It's a sacred work of art, but King Henry had no qualms
'about making use of it as part of a love letter to Anne Boleyn.'
This is the handwriting of Henry VIII,
and he's written here in French,
"If you remember me in your prayers,
"as strongly as I adore you,
"I shall hardly be forgotten, for I am yours. Henry R."
It's such a personal note to find written in the King's own hand,
and it really gives this sense of
the lovesick individual.
'Like a schoolboy sending a note round the classroom, the King
'must have then passed on the manuscript to his beloved,
'because on another page, there's some different handwriting.'
Here is Anne Boleyn's response.
She's written,
"Be daily proof you shall me find,
"to be to you both loving and kind."
And it's interesting, the image she's chosen
to write this underneath,
it's the Annunciation.
The Angel Gabriel is telling Mary that she will conceive a son.
And given that a son is the thing Henry most wants in the world,
Anne is clearly saying what the King wants to hear.
'Henry's determination to wed Anne led, of course,
'to England's break with the Roman Catholic Church.
'The Reformation caused the destruction not just of monasteries
'across the country, but also many of their illuminated manuscripts.'
'The act that established the Book of Common Prayer specifically called
'for the abolishing and putting away of diverse books and images.
'Anything which seemed too redolent of the old religion.'
"All books used for the service of the Church,
"by the King's majesty, shall be clearly and utterly abolished,
"extinguished and forbidden forever to be used or kept in this realm."
I feel real sorrow at these words, when I think about the thousands
of beautiful manuscripts that must have been lost.
'Not even royal manuscripts escaped the destruction.
'This is the only page that survives from a choir book,
'commissioned in the 1470s by Margaret of York,
'the sister of Edward IV.
'The royal family sponsored the house of friars in Greenwich,
'who were thought to have used this in worship,
'until they were abolished by the Reformation.'
The quality of this single leaf is exquisite.
You can really tell it was a royal commission.
The details on the leaves, the flowers with shadows underneath,
and then this amazing miniature showing King David.
Really beautiful treatment of his hair and his face.
But even something as beautiful as this
wasn't exempt from the purges of the Reformation.
The rest of the book that this page was a part of has been destroyed.
This is the only page that remains. It's survived by accident, really.
It's been re-used as some sort of a wrapper.
It's been folded down the middle,
and people have even been practising their handwriting
in-between the notation.
To me, it's quite tragic that this is all that's left
of what was previously a magnificent Catholic manuscript.
'While the art of England's old religion was being destroyed,
'a very special prayer book had been made
'for the head of its new church.'
'This is a Psalter, an edition of the Book of Psalms.
'Many English monarchs before Henry had owned personal Psalters,
'because the Biblical ruler they feature, David,
'was seen as a model of kingship.
'Following tradition,
'King David is depicted in various scenes from the psalms.
'Whenever he turns up in this Psalter, however,
'he's a dead ringer for another monarch.
'You could argue that Henry VIII is being encouraged
'to see the relevance of Biblical teachings for his own life.'
Or you could say Henry is a megalomaniac.
Not only has he made himself head of the Church,
he's now imagining himself as the most important Biblical King.
'It's a very literal reading of the Bible,
'as if it had all been written about 16th-century England.
'So, when the psalmist warns, "The fool says in his heart,
'"There is no God,"
'we see a portrait of Henry's fool, the Tudor court jester Will Somers.
'Everywhere the King looked, he'd see himself reflected back.'
For me, this is an intensely intimate scene
of one man alone with his books.
Henry has had himself inserted into this sacred text.
And here he is, reading the same text
and meditating on himself within the book.
'It must have felt like being in a hall of mirrors.
'And the self-references continue in the margins,
'where Henry's written a running commentary.'
Next to the opening psalm, which begins,
"Blessed is the man who has not walked
"in the counsel of the ungodly,"
Henry has written, in his own hand, "Nota quis sit beatus."
"Note who is blessed."
And in a book full of images of Henry himself,
the implication is that it's HE who is blessed.
'Throughout the book,
'Henry's notes reveal a man convinced he was serving God's will,
'his confidence undimmed by his rejection of the Catholic Church.
'But there's one moment where the self-justification
'gives way to a note of frailty.'
In the margins of Psalm 36, where it says, "I have been young,
"and now I am old," Henry has written,
"Dolens dictum."
"A sad saying."
And so we get this glimpse into how Henry viewed his own mortality.
This is such a strange experience for me.
I'm touching the very pages that Henry VIII himself touched,
and he didn't just read this book, he read it again and again,
and he invested part of himself in it.
More than any other manuscript I've encountered,
I really get a sense of the real man coming out of these pages.
'The earliest English royal books had told a different story.
'Manuscripts in Anglo-Saxon times were largely public objects,
'displayed on altars.
'Their power came from the Church, as did the King's.
'Six centuries later,
'the King controls the institution his predecessors had depended upon.
'He now relies on no-one else in his relationship with God or England.
'So he's shown alone, in a book for his private use.
'For the English royal manuscript,
'it was pretty much the end of the line.
'By the later 16th century, changes in technology, in fashion and in art
'meant the manuscript was finally displaced by the printed book.
'Even among royalty.'
But the illuminated manuscript had a clear descendant
as a royal art form.
Something else that would continue the work
the manuscript had done for centuries,
and that could communicate and symbolise the King's power.
The royal portrait.
'When production of the illuminated manuscript was declining,
'in the 15th and 16th centuries,
'the painted portrait had become more popular,
'and the medium of choice for some of the greatest Renaissance artists.
'It would prove particularly suitable
'for the new challenges faced by England's monarchy.'
Now the King is the head of the Church, he had to be more visible
to the nation, not just a figurehead tucked away in his palaces.
While printing was the best way of spreading the royal word,
the portrait was perfect for disseminating the royal image.
'Take, for example, Hans Holbein's iconic picture of Henry VIII,
'for which this was the preparatory sketch.'
Even as an outline, you can tell who this is,
and that's entirely deliberate.
This is powerful propaganda.
'Portraits were intended to be seen by a wider public than
'the select few who would glimpse the pages of a royal manuscript.
'And the production of authorised copies could make the monarch
'more visible across their kingdom.'
The large-scale royal portrait might seem a world away
from the miniatures of illuminated manuscripts,
but early in his career, Holbein worked in book design,
and he wasn't alone either.
Other portraitists drew inspiration from the traditions of manuscripts.
'Some portraits were still painted on vellum,
'such as this one of Elizabeth I.
'It's the work of Nicholas Hilliard,
'who was most likely trained by a descendant of a Bruges illuminator.
'And it's only a couple of inches high,
'the small scale used for centuries in manuscripts.
'Portraiture could also draw on a well-established language
'for depicting royal power.
'The iconography of monarchy, which feels so familiar
'when we see portraits such as these, had first been developed
'in the pages of books.
'And that's not the manuscript's only legacy.
'Objects which had seemed redundant after the invention of printing
'have a renewed value now when the dominance of the printed book
'is in turn being challenged.'
We live in a world where, thanks to the digital revolution,
ideas and images can be shared across the globe in an instant.
Many millions of people can share the same things at the same time.
And this is of course incredibly powerful.
An illuminated manuscript was almost the exact opposite.
It was designed to be seen by just a handful of people
as an entirely bespoke artefact.
And from this exclusivity and uniqueness came its power.
'Precisely because they were never mass-produced,
'manuscripts have a specific historical weight and meaning,
'which it's hard to imagine being equalled
'by the sophisticated technology of today.'
'It's not just that they so beautifully picture that past,
'its religious fervour and its political manoeuvring,
'it's that they do so in such a tangible form.
'In an object that exists now in the same way as it did then.'
The thing that's really struck me about handling these manuscripts
is the intimacy of the experience.
By turning the pages, I feel as if I've sat down
next to their royal owners
and read over their shoulder, sharing in their insights.
These magnificent objects were once created
as pieces of propaganda or patronage, but now they offer us
a unique insight into the private lives of long dead kings.
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd
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