It’s time once again for a recap from the latest season of The Crown! Our series has arrived at episode seven, “Moondust,” which involves a whole lot of angst about aging and — sadly — very little jewelry at all. (Need to catch up on our previous recaps? They’re all here!)

We begin with a date stamp that helpfully tells us it’s July 5, 1969. Prince Philip is at Windsor Castle, watching a televised press conference with the astronauts who are about to head for the moon.

The Queen comes in, wearing pearls and no brooch, and tells Phil that she’s sent a goodwill message to travel to the moon along with the astronauts. She’s pretty excited about it.

The next morning, the whole family goes to church, and the Queen and the Queen Mother both wear little production-invented brooches. The Dean of Windsor gives a sermon that puts almost everyone to sleep, and Phil convinces Liz that it’s time to start shopping for a new priest to fill the office.

(Historical sidenote: this scene is supposed to be set in 1969, but it’s sort of based on events from 1962. That year, the longtime Dean of Windsor, Eric Hamilton, left the office — not because he was too boring, but because he died! Not quite the same, though the Guardian did once describe Hamilton’s tenure as dean as “sleepy.”)

Two weeks or so later, at Buckingham Palace, the entire royal family gathers to watch the Apollo 11 rocket lift off. The scene is kind of amusing, given Princess Margaret’s complaint in an earlier episode that they never watched television in the palace all together. I have no idea whether they really gathered to watch this part of the Apollo mission.

We get glimpses of the actors playing the minor members of the family, including the Duchess of Gloucester in a brooch.

We also see Tony Snowdon with some groovy new sideburns, and Princess Margaret in gold earrings and a rocket-themed party hat…

…which she and Princess Anne then start stacking on the sleeping Queen Mum, who is at least wearing a nice pearl bracelet.

Later, after everyone else has already left, Philip continues watching the Apollo coverage. He gets pretty obsessive about the whole thing.

The new Dean of Windsor, Robin Woods, interrupts Philip’s frantic consumption of moon-related news. He wants to know if he can start a new center on the castle grounds for priests having mid-career faith crises. Philip scoffs at the idea, but tells him to do what he wants.

(On The Crown, this scene takes place in July 1969, but in the real world, Robin Woods became Dean of Windsor in 1962. He even baptized Prince Edward in 1964 — a scene that was shown in the last episode of season two. He and Philip started the center in question, St. George’s House, together in 1966. It’s not just a retreat for clergy but also a residential conference center for thoughtful conversations between people from different areas of influence, including the arts, government, and business.)

Back at Windsor Castle, the royals gather to watch the lunar landing. Philip is in complete awe of the achievement of the astronauts. (This is accurate: the Queen really did watch the moon landing with her family at Windsor.)

The Apollo mission remains at the front of his mind, even after he returns to his regular slate of engagements. While flying home after a factory visit, he frightens his co-pilot by pushing the aircraft higher and higher, trying to capture some of the astronauts’ experience.

Meanwhile, Robin Woods is succeeding nicely as Dean. The Queen, wearing a little invented gold brooch, greets him happily after a Sunday service.

But Philip’s stopped going to church completely. Woods tracks him down at the castle and convinces him to visit St. George’s House. While there, he takes part in a therapy-like conversation about faith and middle age, and he says he thinks moments like the moon landing are how society now experiences spirituality.

Later, during dinner, the Queen (pearls, no brooch) tells Philip that the Apollo 11 astronauts will be visiting them during their victory tour. She says she hopes that the news will cheer Philip up. He seems surprised that she thinks he needs cheering up at all.

The Queen is still broochless during the planning meeting for the astronaut visit at Buckingham Palace. Philip asks during the meeting to have a private audience with the three astronauts, and Adeane agrees to make it happen.

We fast-forward to the day of the visit, which really took place in October 1969. The Queen, along with Princess Anne, Prince Andrew, and Prince Edward, greets Armstrong, Collins, Aldrin, and their wives. In reality, Philip was present for the official welcome; also in reality, the Queen wore the Duchess of Cambridge’s Pearl Pendant Brooch. (That one would have been very easy to replicate! So frustrating.)

In the world of The Crown, though, Philip is alone with his signet ring, compiling a list of very existential questions to ask the astronauts.

He meets privately with the three of them, who are all sick with colds. He’s disappointed at their lack of reflection and introspection about the philosophical questions he’s written. They’re more excited to ask him questions about what it’s like to live in a royal palace. After their fifteen-minute window has closed, he’s clearly deflated by the experience.

(This private audience didn’t quite happen this way. The Queen and the Duke met with the astronauts for 45 minutes, and afterward, they told the press that the Queen was very well-versed in the specifics of their mission. They didn’t mention Philip’s part of the conversation.)

The astronauts and their wives pose for pictures in the palace before leaving. The wardrobe department missed yet another good jewelry moment here: Janet Armstrong wore her Van Cleef and Arpels lunar brooch during the royal visit! Sigh.

Afterward, Liz ‘n Phil talk through his disappointment over the astronauts. He’d imagined them to be giants, but they were just normal young men. Whatever he was hoping to get from the meeting, it didn’t happen.

Afterward, Philip visits his mother’s room, and we realize that the funk he’s been experiencing over the course of the episode has a very specific cause: his mother, Princess Alice, has died.

(The episode’s timeline doesn’t work at all, unfortunately. Alice died in December 1969, several months after the moon landing, and several weeks after the astronauts’ palace visit.)

He goes back to St. George’s House for help, talking about his mother’s death and his crisis of faith. The talking seems to help. The timeline of the episode doesn’t fit at all with the real history of Philip’s life in the late ’60s, but at least Tobias Menzies does the best he can with the script he’s given.

Afterward, the Queen spots Philip walked with Robin Woods, and she’s clearly pleased with the connection they’ve made. And that’s where we leave things this episode.

Time for another recap of Netflix’s royal soap, The Crown! Today, we’ve got a look at the history and jewelry presented in episode six, “Tywysog Cymru.” (Missed any of my previous recaps? You’ll find them all here!)

We begin at Cambridge. Prince Charles, now played by Josh O’Connor, is doing vocal exercises before performing in a play. That puts us around the autumn of 1968, when Charles joined the Footlights, the dramatic club at Cambridge.

In London, Harold Wilson and other government leaders are meeting with the committee tasked with planning Charles’s investiture as Prince of Wales. There’s a predictable clash between the old guard and the new order in terms of the plans. The Duke of Norfolk argues that the investiture should be planned exactly as the previous one was done in 1911, which earns some smirks.

But there’s one central figure from the planning committee who is missing here: Lord Snowdon! Tony was one of the principle members of the committee, even serving as constable of Caernarvon Castle starting in 1965 as the event was prepared. He is mysteriously completely absent from this episode.

After the meeting, Harold Wilson has an audience with the Queen, who wears a little invented leaf brooch. He comes to her with an idea: because tensions over nationalism in Wales are on the rise, wouldn’t it be a good idea to send Prince Charles to study there, learning some of the language before the investiture? The Queen demurs, telling Wilson that Charles is finally settled and happy at Cambridge, but he presses the issue.

In reality, the plan for Charles to spend a summer term studying at Aberystwyth was settled back in 1967, before he even started his studies at Cambridge. It was always part of his full university education plan, not an idea proposed in the midst of his studies. There was even a committee formed to discuss his education, which included the Queen, the Duke of Edinburgh, the Archbishop of Canterbury … and Harold Wilson.

But in the world of The Crown, the Welsh education idea is a complete and unwelcome surprise to Charles, who is confronted by the entire family (and Michael Adeane) with the new plan.

The Queen, frustratingly sans brooch, impresses upon Charles that he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. The Duke of Edinburgh tells Charles that some things are more important than other “frivolous” pursuits, like his passion for acting at Cambridge. (Perhaps in real life Philip was less dismissive of Charles’s love for acting, given that he actually started appearing in plays back at Philip’s beloved Gordonstoun?)

Charles is frustrated with his “vile” mother and her edicts, and he vents to Princess Anne about it. She’s envious — she says that she wishes she were relevant enough to receive such negative attention. Charles offers to swap places in the succession with her — a favorite trope for this show where royal siblings are concerned — but she declines.

In Aberystwyth, Thomas Parry, head of the university, informs Edward Millward that he’ll be tutoring Prince Charles in the Welsh language ahead of the investiture speech. Millward, a Welsh nationalist politician, is less than pleased with the assignment. In 1968, nearly a year before Charles arrived in Aberystwyth, the real Tedi Millward gave an interview to the press, stating that he was “slightly suspicious” of the political motivations behind the plan to send Charles to Wales, but that he was “glad to have the opportunity of explaining what is going on in Wales and why there is unrest about the prince.”

Charles arrives at Aberystwyth amid some cheers, but also lots of protests. This scene takes place on Sunday, April 20, 1969. Press reports from the day note that Charles received a “loud Welsh welcome” on his arrival.

Political demonstrations by Welsh nationalists did take place in the months and weeks before his studies began. In 1967, a bomb exploded at the Temple of Peace in Cardiff just before Lord Snowdon and Cledwyn Hughes attended a meeting about the coming investiture. Charles himself had confronted a group of extremists that threw a smoke bomb at his car during a visit to Cardiff in June 1968. Some press outlets even tried to stoke the flames, with one German magazine offering $25,000 for the first photo showing a Welsh student either kissing — or slapping — Charles’s face.

More than a 100 additional police offers were stationed at Aberystwyth to try to stave off violent conflict, and an army bomb disposal expert was also housed nearby. Charles gave an interview in 1969 addressing the possibility of an incident: “It would be unnatural, I think, if one didn’t feel any apprehension about it. One always wonders what’s going to happen in this sort of thing. But I think if one takes this as it comes, it’ll be much easier. I expect at Aberystwyth there may be one or two demonstrations and as long as I don’t get covered too much in egg and tomato, I’ll be all right.” (I will never understand why this show ignores real historical drama in favor of invented conflict.)

Charles is escorted by Thomas Parry to Tedi Millward’s office, where the two meet for the first time. Millward refuses to address him by his royal title and style, calling him “Charles” and shaking his hand instead. (Charles’s tutors at Aberystwyth all called him simply “Mr. Windsor,” and his fellow students just used “Charles.”) They talk briefly about how Millward’s politics inform his teaching. (This depiction seems basically correct. Millward gave a press interview in 1969 in which he noted, “I will try to resist the temptation to preach at the son of an English monarch. But he will have to learn that nationalism is a crucial issue here. Apart from any narrow aims, it is essential that the prince should know all about Welsh nationalism, its basis and its roots.”)

Next, Millward takes Charles to the language learning lab, where Charles puts on headphones and dives in. This language lab is almost exactly like the ones described as being used by the Welsh language department at the university.

Charles finds the language difficult and his fellow students downright unfriendly, so he calls home.

It’s not his parents he turns too — it’s Princess Anne, who is hanging out at her room in the palace, listening to Aretha Franklin records. She essentially tells him to suck it up and deal with the situation in a very Anne-like tone.

Although he’s supposed to be just another student, Charles is welcomed to the university with a grand dinner. Parry expresses his hope that one day Charles will even become patron of the institution. And then Charles embarrasses himself totally with his lack of knowledge about the university and Welsh history in general.

His next tutorial with Millward goes badly. When Millward tries to get him to mimic the sounds of the Welsh language, Charles begins showing off the tongue-twisters he uses to get ready for plays at Cambridge. Millward isn’t amused — he thinks Charles isn’t taking any of this seriously, and his lack of interest in Welsh history is offensive.

Charles reacts by putting in some hard work at the library, learning about Wales and the history of the title he has inherited.

Meanwhile, back at the palace, the broochless Queen (UGH) talks with Philip about Charles’s investiture speech. Neither of them are convinced that he’s mature enough to take on big responsibilities yet.

In Aberystwyth, though, Charles impresses Millward with the work he’s done to try to learn a little about Wales and its history. When Millward realizes how socially isolated Charles really is at the university, he invites him home for dinner.

Millward’s son, Andras, talks with Charles, teaching him to count in Welsh.

Over dinner, Charles talks with Millward and his wife, Silvia, learning about the history of their relationship and their joint passion for the nationalist cause. They find themselves warming up to the prince, while Charles is clearly fascinated by such a close, loving family.

Charles decides to make some changes to his investiture speech. With Millward’s help, he translates the new passages into Welsh.

The day of the investiture arrives: July 1, 1969. Royals, dignitaries, and onlookers gather at Caernarvon Castle.

As Charles prepares to put on his uniform for the ceremony, he receives a visit from a family member who knows military uniforms very well: Lord Mountbatten. He was indeed present for the investiture, as were many members of the extended royal family (including Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester; Prince Richard of Gloucester; the Duke and Duchess of Kent; Prince Michael of Kent; Princess Alexandra and Sir Angus Ogilvy).

The immediate family — the Queen, Philip, Margaret, Anne, and the Queen Mother — takes the royal train to Caernarvon ahead of the ceremony.

The modern canopy designed by Lord Snowdon for the event — made of plastic, to allow clear views for those watching on television — was replicated well for the show. It’s just maddening that Snowdon wasn’t included at all. If you’d like some royal family drama, how about the fact that Snowdon and Margaret were already facing divorce rumors at this point — or that Prince Philip laughed in Snowdon’s face when he saw the outfit Tony had designed to wear for the ceremony? (From a UPI report on the day: “Lord Snowdon’s outfit … was supposed to resemble that of a constable of Caernarvon Castle …. It had a Nehru jacket-like top and trouser bottoms that appeared more bell-bottomed than royal. Prince Philip stopped at the castle entrance and gave Snowdon the once-over from head to toe. Philip tilted his head back and laughed. Snowdon grinned back.”)

Scenes featuring Ben Daniels in costume for the investiture were definitely filmed and then cut, which is extra frustrating. Helena Bonham Carter’s scenes were cut, too — she only appears in that scene on the train, and is shown only from the back. The event was a crucial one for Tony especially — one friend told the press that it was like a “bar mitzvah” for the Snowdons. It’s a shame to leave their part out of it completely.

The replicas of the investiture outfits of Princess Anne and the Queen Mum are quite good. Anne, however, wore her diamond floral brooch for the event, not the invented one shown above. The Queen Mother wore the Ladies of North Wales Brooch, which is large, but perhaps not quite so big as the replica created for the show. But hey, at least there was an attempt!

The Queen is shown without a brooch on her yellow silk dress — but this time it’s historically correct. The costume is an excellent replica of the Queen’s real investiture outfit.

And even the show’s replica of Charles’s modern coronet, made by Louis Osman, isn’t a terrible version of the real thing. (You can see the real coronet, complete with its famous ping-pong ball monde, here.)

Millward, who refused an invitation to the investiture, watches the speech on television with his wife and son. He’s clearly pleased with the part Charles added in.

After it’s all over, Charles heads to the Millward house to say thank you — and gives his tutor a copy of a book about British tongue-twisters as a wry farewell present.

Following a tour through Wales, Charles returns to the palace, only to find it empty. He asks to see the Queen, who has already retired for the evening.

When he finally sees her, she’s livid with him. She has read a translation of the parts of the speech he added, which included lines comparing his personal suffering with that of the Welsh people. She’s offended, and they have a very soapy argument about it all.

And then Charles heads back to Cambridge, where he goes right back to the theater, performing in Shakespeare’s Richard II.

Charles plays Richard II, delivering part of the famous “hollow crown” speech — which, of course, takes place during a scene set in a Welsh castle on the coast. It’s a convenient invention on the part of the writers to have Charles star in the play; it wasn’t one of his roles at university. Oh, well — it’s definitely more dramatic than a Goons-style comedy revue, I suppose.

We begin in the offices of the Daily Mirror. Cecil King, chairman of the paper (and several other publishing groups, as well as a director of the Bank of England) is unhappy with headlines criticizing Prime Minister Harold Wilson — because he thinks they need to be even more critical.

Meanwhile, over at Downing Street, Wilson and his colleagues are despairing over continual bad press. They need a distraction, and once again, the group decides that it’s time to shift the attention over to a member of the royal family. They spin their imaginary wheel, and it lands on … Lord Mountbatten!

We cut to Mountbatten, who is now being played by venerable British actor Charles Dance. He’s in full military dress uniforms, with medals everywhere, taking a salute. The events depicted in these scenes took place around the summer of 1965. Mountbatten, who was 65, was serving as Chief of the Defence Staff, one of the highest military posts in Britain. He’d held the job since 1959.

Wilson’s staff decides that, because Mountbatten has been resistant to cuts to defense spending, he’s got to go. There’s a grain of truth under all of this. In reality, Mountbatten’s appointment as CDS was up for renewal at the time the Wilson government came to power in 1964. The new Defence Secretary, Denis Healey, surveyed senior officials, who almost unanimously recommended that Mountbatten not be reappointed. It was Healey who informed Mountbatten of this decision, not Wilson. Mountbatten retired with a grand salute in July 1965, and the Queen gave him two parting gifts: the Order of Merit and an appointment as the new Governor of the Isle of Wight.

The show’s version of Mountbatten leaves Whitehall in civilian clothes, with a cake and a portrait trailing behind. He’s serenaded with “Auld Lang Syne.” In reality, the song was played by a military band as he inspected a guard of honor one last time outside the building, in a grand ceremony also attended by his daughters and sons-in-law. He gave a final salute to mark the end of a half century of military service.

And then, the Crown version of Mountbatten heads back to the solitude of Broadlands, where he broods in the bath alongside his dog, his monogrammed towels, and his whiskey.

We finally catch up with the Queen, who is working on state papers aboard the royal train. (Pearls, no brooch. Sigh.) Adeane informs her that they’re almost to their destination, so she packs up and changes into more casual clothes…

…because the destination in question is Newmarket, where she’s visiting her horses. The trainer focuses on one in particular, Apprentice, who has recovered sufficiently from an injury to race again.

We cut to Royal Ascot, where the Queen is watching Apprentice run in the Queen Alexandra Stakes. (That really happened in June 1966.) She’s joined in the royal box by her childhood friend, Lord Porchester, as well as the Queen Mother and Lord Mountbatten. (The Queen Mum commiserates with Mountbatten about his retirement — a full year later?) The Queen Mother appears to be wearing some sort of (invented) floral brooch pinned to the neckline of her dress.

The Queen, blasphemously, is pictured without a brooch at Ascot. (She really did wear a similar outfit in 1966, but she wore the Cullinan V Brooch with it.) Apprentice loses, and she’s downtrodden. She wishes she could spend more time upgrading her horse racing operation, and Porchey wonders why she doesn’t just take some time off and do a little foreign research. She’s intrigued.

During her next audience with Wilson, the Queen (again, pearls no brooch — argggghhhhh) is so distracted by her horse plans that she can barely concentrate when he tells her about plans to devalue the pound. (This places us in the autumn of 1967.) The Queen’s only response is to tell him that she’s going on vacation, which a) is not at all what really happened, and b) totally out of character for the Queen.

Wilson goes on television to speak to the nation about the currency devaluation. This really happened on November 19, 1967. The Queen was in the country; she had just returned from a four-day official visit to Malta with the Duke of Edinburgh. They celebrated their 20th wedding anniversary the following day.

But in the fictional world of The Crown, the Queen has jetted off for her horse vacation. She wears the little invented pearly flower brooch as she, Porchey, and Charteris fly to France.

They spend some time visiting Le Quesnay, Alec Head’s thoroughbred farm in Normandy.

She and Porchey talk shop over a meal afterward, deciding how to change her entire operation. He thinks she needs to go to America to continue her on-the-ground research. It’s going to be more time away, but she’s fine with it — the Queen Mother is taking care of palace business. (This is all fictional, so whatever, but why are we not seeing any of that???)

Back in Britain, many people are not taking the devaluation well at all, especially a group of men headed by Cecil King. They invite Mountbatten to a secret meeting, where they basically outline plans to overthrow the Wilson government and install Mountbatten in his stead. It’s complicated, but some version of this meeting allegedly did happen in May 1968. According to Peter Wright, a former intelligence officer, Mountbatten was reportedly approached, heard the plan, declared it treasonous, and that was that. Biographer Andrew Lownie, however, believes that Mountbatten took the offer more seriously.

Meanwhile, the Queen is continuing her fictional horse vacation with a visit to Kentucky. (Except the Queen’s first visit to Kentucky took place in … October 1984!) We get a date check in these scenes — it’s supposed to by 1967. She and Porchey have lunch, and she asks him to be the new manager of her stables. (He really did take over the job in 1969.)

The Crown is following along with the Andrew Lownie narrative of the attempted Wilson coup, so we see Mountbatten invite the whole gang to Broadlands, where he explains why none of this could ever possibly work — unless they could convince the Queen to go along with it. And, hm, which one of them just happens to be a cousin/uncle to Her Majesty? He says he’ll talk to her about it.

But the Queen’s not even aware of any of these developments. She and Porchey are dining privately in Kentucky, and she pours her heart out to him about the fact that she knows she was just born to work with horses, not to be a monarch. She really wishes that were her life.

They’re interrupted by a phone call. She thinks it’s going to be Mountbatten on the other end of the line (he called earlier), but it’s really Wilson, informing her that he knows there’s an attempt to oust him, and Mountbatten is involved. She promises that she’ll take care of it, and tells Porchey they’re headed back to Britain.

Back at the palace, the Queen tears into Mountbatten. (Lownie’s biography claims that the Queen did have to talk Mountbatten out of the whole coup business.)

Wearing a little invented gold brooch, she reminds him of his place in the family — as a mentor to Charles, especially. She also asks if he’s even bothered to visit his sister, Princess Alice, since her arrival from Greece.

He does just that, and the two of them talk about their family and her lack of a clear sense of home. They both feel like they’re now watching the world from the outside, not participating in it.

Philip comes home and finds the Queen at work. They have a little back-and-forth about her extended (fictional) vacation, he expresses some mild jealousy about Porchey, and then they canoodle. And that’s how we leave things.