FOR anyone lucky enough to know one of us hardened hacks, you will be aware that we aren’t known for our outbursts of emotion.

Journalists have witnessed just about every momentous event in the last few hundred years, often from a front row seat and usually with an expression of indifference.

And so it came as somewhat of a surprise to me to hear that members of the media assembled for the announcement that a skeleton was indeed that of King Richard III literally cheered at the news. That is not to say that the announcement wasn’t surprisingly exciting. It was a plot reminiscent of an episode of CSI with a flavour of Time Team and a background story worthy of EastEnders. There was something fascinating about this story from the moment the diggers moved in to a council car park in Leicester to the DNA testing of a Canadian-born furniture maker in London – the king’s apparent heir.

Within minutes of the confirmation being broadcast across the globe, we were hungry for information on the historical king, his life and his death, and most of all how he came to be lying beneath a car park for so long.

And modern science didn’t disappoint, we were treated to details of his injuries, his disabilities, a reconstruction of his face and even news that he would have spoken with a Brummie accent, all of which re-ignited a passion for history in many of us.

Such was the wave of interest that a list of other potential dead monarchs was soon being compiled – headed by calls to exhume the mysterious ‘princes in the tower’. But it was during the quest for information that I began to feel uneasy about the large picture of the unfortunate king’s skull grinning back at me.

The story that began with a mediaeval king I knew little about had ended with a person with a name and a story.

On the way he had been murdered, bound, dumped in an unmarked grave, Tarmaced over, driven upon, dug up, subjected to countless scientific tests, prodded, poked and paraded in front of the world’s media.

As the row as to where the body of the 32-year-old king should finally be laid to rest rumbled on, news came that the Church of England has so far refused requests to exhume the two bodies of the young princes and therefore ended any attempts to solve one of the country’s greatest mysteries.

Disappointing? Yes, but I think probably right. After all I very much doubt our fascination with history would be as great if we knew the answer to every mystery and anyway, us gloomy hacks couldn’t cope with the excitement!