Gone Medieval - The Wars of the Roses: Endings

Episode Date: May 21, 2022

All things must end. This final special episode on the Wars of the Roses deals with a series of endings and considers what finding a date for the end of the conflict means for how we think about this critical period. Lancaster will be revived, only to meet a final end. The House of York seems secure, but would fall, replaced by an unknown Welshman who had lived half his life in exile.Does the arrival of the Tudor dynasty really mark the end of the Wars of the Roses? Or is that just the story that wanted everyone to believe? What of Lambert Simnel, Perkin Warbeck, the White Roses, and the papal plot to destroy Henry VIII by restoring the House of York? All things must end. The question is how and when did the Wars of the Roses end.The Senior Producer on this episode was Elena Guthrie. The Producer was Rob Weinberg. It was edited and sound designed by Aidan Lonergan.For more Gone Medieval content, subscribe to our Medieval Monday's newsletter here. If you'd like to learn even more, we have hundreds of history documentaries, ad free podcasts and audiobooks at History Hit - subscribe today! To download, go to Android or Apple store. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

From long-loss Viking ships and kings buried in unexpected places to tales of murder, power, faith, and the lives of ordinary people across medieval Europe and beyond. Join me, Matt Lewis, Dr. Eleanor Jarniger, and some of the world's leading historians as we bring history's most fascinating stories to life, only on history hit. With your subscription, you'll unlock hundreds of hours of exclusive documentaries

with a brand-new release every week exploring everything from the ancient world, to World War II. Just visit historyhit.com forward slash subscribe. Welcome to the conclusion of my breakdown of the Wars of the Roses here on Gone Medieval. I'm Matt Lewis. I hope you can stand one more round of me indulging my obsession. After this, we've got two fantastic episodes with expert guests to pick over some of the things that I've covered. We left things last time with a rift between Edward VIII and the urn of Warwick, papered over somewhat unconvincingly. Now we'll witness the death-throes of the House of Lancaster,

and then the self-destruction of the House of York, before we give some thought to how and when the wars of the roses actually ended. Endings are never easy. In an odd decision that smacks of lashing out at the Neville faction more broadly, Edward deprived John Neville of the Northumberland Earldom, and gave it back to Henry Percy. John was nominally promoted to the rank of Marquist Montague,

but in reality was left with no land, no income, and no way to support his position. Given John's previously faultless loyalty, it was a bitter pill to swallow. Perhaps part of the point was to rub Warwick's nose in his brother's promotion. Maybe another part was to distract Warwick with the return of the Percy faction to power in the north. Whatever the intention, the result was escalation.

In February 1470, Edward's master of the horse, Sir Thomas DeBur, was attacked by his Lincolnshire neighbour Lord Wells. Lord Wells was summoned to London, and after pleading ill health failed to excuse him, he went to the king and apologised. Well's son, Sir Robert, began to gather an army, and Edward responded by marching his own force north. Edward instructed Lord Wells to write to his son and order him to desist. Robert refused. On the 12th of March 1470, the armies lined up before each other. Edward had Lord Wells brought onto the field and beheaded for his son's defiance. Edward attacked and the enemy ran. The confrontation became known as the Battle of Luzkoat field

because so many men shed their livery to try and escape identification that the countryside was littered with lost coats. Sir Robert Wells was captured and confessed to a conspiracy. Shockingly, or perhaps not, he named Warwick and George as the drivers of his rebellion.

Their plan was to remove Edward and make George king. Warwick and George fled for Calais with the pregnant Isabel. The town refused to allow them to enter and when Isabel went into labour, the baby, a daughter, was tragically lost at sea. Amidst all this, the Battle of Nibbley Green took place in Gloucestershire on the 20th of March 1470. Fought between Lord Barclay and Lord Lyle of Wooten over a disputed inheritance,

it was the last time that two private armies would fight each other on English soil. It was a signal of the breakdown of law and order in Yorkist England, but it was only a symptom of a growing sickness. Edward's leniency was firmly at an end. Some of Warwick's men had been captured on the South Coast and they were put on trial before John tipped off the Earl of Worcester. Found guilty, they were, well, they were hanged, drawn and courted, the most excruciating form of execution reserved for traitors,

but once they were dead, their corpses were impaled on large wooden stakes driven through their buttocks and bodies into the ground. Each head was then placed on the point of the stake. It's like Vlad the Impaler, but in England. It was a shockingly gory scene, doubtless meant as a warning. It didn't work. Private feuds were being settled by violence across England. The Duke of Norfolk bombarded Keister Castle

because he wanted it from the Paston family who held it. In Lancashire, Thomas, Lord Stanley, brought up a huge, huge cannon from Bristol to blast the Harrington family, the same one that had delivered Henry the 6th to Edward out of Hornby Castle, which he claimed from them. The reason he failed to get it was that the King's youngest brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, now 17, had taken Harrington's side and installed himself in Hornby Castle. The issues between Stanley and Richard began in 1470, but would end a decade and a half later. Meanwhile, the distraught Warwick and George had washed up in French territory.

The King of France Louis XI 11th was known as the universal spider for the webs of intrigue he was spinning across Europe. He set to work on a new plan. Queen Margaret had been in France since the collapse of her husband's cause. Louis brought her and Warwick together and suggested that they were each other's best hope of achieving what they wanted. Margaret reportedly kept Warwick unbended knee for more than quarter of an hour while she thought about an alliance.

I doubt she really needed to think about it. As much as she despised Warwick, she knew Louis was right. This was only about making him suffer a bit first. Part of the problem with this new plan was that Warwick's initial idea had been to depose Edward and make George King. The new plan was to restore Henry the sixth. That begged the question of where George stood. He joined Warwick because he was unhappy at being second in line to the throne.

Now, he was placed behind Henry and his son Edward, Prince of Wales, and would only be king if the Lancasterian line failed. He had, if anything, gone backwards. Nevertheless, the deal was made. Warwick and George landed in England, with Margaret and Prince Edward poised to follow. John Neville pressed south as they moved north, and Edward was caught between Hammer and Anvil. He jumped out of the way just before the blow came.

On the 2nd of October 1470, Edward sailed from Kingsland into exile with a small group of his closest friends. His youngest brother, Richard, whose 18th birthday that was, seems to have travelled by a different route. I suspect he remained in England a while to lay the groundwork for Edward's return.

If so, the danger of it was proven when John Tiptoffed, the man who had overseen the impaling of prisoners just months earlier, was caught and executed for his cruelty. Warwick freed the bemused and bedraggled Henry and set about ruling in his name. Edward, Richard and a few others took refuge in Burgundy. Here, international politics again overtook the Wars of the Roses. Charles de Bole, Duke of Burgundy, was Edward's brother-in-law, married to his sister Margaret.

but he also had plenty of Lancastrian blood in his veins and was sympathetic to Henry's cause. In England, Warwick set about trying to re-establish Lancastrian government. He was hardly the first choice of Henry's supporters to lead them. It made for some uncomfortable meetings. This period was known at the time and is now as the re-adeption. That's a made-up word, because no one knew what to call it when a deposed king was restored. So they just made up a word. We know the Parliament sat during the re-adeption, but the records of it were destroyed.

We can imagine it set about unpicking a decade of Yorkist rule and restoring land and titles to Lancasterian Lords, but we'll probably never know for certain what its business was. Foreign policy came back into play again when Louis XI launched an attack on Burgundy. As part of his deal to secure French backing, Warwick had agreed to help Louis crush Burgundy. Duke Charles decided to give Edward money and ships to sail back to England, not because he cared about his brother-in-law's cause, but because it suited his needs to keep Warwick tied up in England. The Wars of the Roses is frequently fuelled by politics beyond England's shores

that is overlooked or forgotten. England's civil war was sometimes a proxy for other nations' disputes. Anyway, in Burgundy, Edward, who'd let himself go a bit, enjoying the good life as king, sprang into a rocky training montage, running up and down cathedral steps, punching sides of beef, getting himself back in shape, ready for the big fight that was to come. As Edward was boarding ship, Queen Margaret and Prince Edward prepared to sail for England too. Storms made a crossing treacherous, but while the Queen and Prince waited, the Yorkists threw themselves into the venture. They planned to land at Cromer in Norfolk, but found the coastline

too well guarded by the Earl of Oxford's Met. They pushed on north, their small fleet scattered by the storms. Edward eventually landed at Ravenspur in Yorkshire, a port that's now lost, but was coincidentally the same place that Henry Bollingbrook had landed in 1399 on his way to become Henry IV. Edward's small force regrouped and moved towards York. The city shut its gates to them.

Despite the family's title, the North was either Lancasterian or Neville in sympathy. Edward now made it known that he no longer wanted to be king. He had come to claim his dukedom of York, and that was all. I imagine a lot of suspicious, narrowed eyes, but York let Edward and a few others in on the basis of this vow. I can't help wondering whether the memories of Tauton a decade earlier still haunted the North, and there was no desire to enrage Edward or force a new battle in the war.

those parts. Support was slow to come as the Yorkists then moved south. When they reached a more sympathetic region in the Midlands, Edward shed his pretense and affirmed his intention to retake the throne. More support arrived until news came that George was approaching with a large army arrayed for battle. Edward set his army out to confront his wayward brother. It was now that some House of York internal diplomacy came to fruition. The sources are clear that the moment George's involvement in Warwick's plot became known, George's sisters and their mother went to work to bring him back into the fold. A reconciliation was sealed by a meeting between George and Richard as the armies prepared to face off. The close relationship between the two younger brothers is often overlooked,

but it was Richard who finished the work to convince George to abandon Warwick and the re-admiral. With the House of York reunited and George's men at Edward's command, they moved on to Coventry, where Warwick was taking refuge within the walls. Edward issued challenges, but Warwick refused to come out and fight. When Edward moved on towards London, Warwick knew he had his cousin right where he wanted him. He sent word to his brother George Neville, now Archbishop of York, to hold the capital, and prepared to crush Edward between the city's walls and why. Warwick's army. There was just one problem with the plan. Edward was let into London and George Neville handed over Henry VIII to be returned to the tower. Edward retrieved his wife and children

from sanctuary at Westminster Abbey, delighted to discover that Elizabeth had given birth to a son and heir named Edward while the king had been in exile. As Warwick moved south, Edward marched out of London to confront his cousin and former mentor. Over the weeks that followed, the fate of England would be decided. As night fell on the 13th of April 1471, the two armies came close to each other and set up camp outside Barnett, a dozen miles north of London. Warwick ordered his guns to fire all night into the Yorkist camp.

As the thunderous noise pounded away, Edward's guns remained silent. That was because the two forces had camped closer to each other than they'd meant to in the darkness. Warwick's cannons fired over and well past Edwards' camp. He ordered his guns not to return fire to prevent Warwick realising his mistake and to allow them to waste time and ammunition all night.

Without anyone got much sleep though. In the morning, Easter Sunday the 14th of April 1471, the two forces lined up for battle. But the weather, which always seemed to have a big and positive impact on battles Edward was involved in played its part again. After the Parheelian at Mortimer's Cross, the rain at Northampton and the snow at Tauton, it was the turn at Barnett of the fog. Morning mist was thick above the fields and both sides were all but blinded.

Between four and five o'clock in the morning, Edward sounded his trumpets and gave the order for his cannon to rip through the mist. Warwick responded in kind, then both Both sides advanced into a melee. It was now that the fog played a decisive role. The armies, unable to see each other, had lined up off centre. Edwards left was under the command of his friend Lord Hastings, who was opposed by the Earl of Oxford. Oxford was able to flank Hastings easily, and Hastings ranks broke and fled.

Oxford chased them as far as Barnet where his men fell to looting. Some of Hastings men made it all the way back to London, where they reported the loss of the battle. On the other side, the problem was reversed. Edward's youngest brother, Richard Duke of Gloucester, was given command of Edward's right in his first battle at the age of 18. He faced the Duke of Exeter, who happened to be their ex-brother-in-law, and found his force overlapping that of Exeter, flanking them and getting the better of them. In the centre, Edward kept George close and faced Warwick and his brother John Neville. Here, the fighting was even and close for a long time before the fog provided one more twist.

Oxford's men returned to the field, but as they approached Warwick's flank, Oxford's badge of a star and streamers was mistaken for Edward's symbol of the sun in splendor. Warwick's archers opened fire on Oxford's men. It was perhaps a symptom of the fragile alliances that re-adeption had been built on that Oxford's men immediately cried treason,

believing the Nevels had gone back to Edward's side. A cry of treason on the battlefield was catastrophic. Oxford's men ran. Warwick's were spooked by the cry and also broke, fleeing into rotten wood at their rear. Some reports claim Edward gave an order that Warwick was to be taken alive, but both the Earl and his brother John were killed in the retreat. Some writers, believing Edward's men feared their master's inclination to forgive

would prolong the kingdom's troubles further. Both bodies were put on display at St Paul's Cathedral, to ensure everyone knew the men were dead. Did Edison really take credit for things he didn't invent? Were treadmills originally a form of corporal punishment? And would man have ever got to the moon without the bra? You can expect answers to all these questions and more in the brand new podcast from History Hit, Patented History of Inventions.

Join me, Dallas Campbell, as I uncover what really sparked history's most impactful ideas. Each episode, I'll be recruiting the help of experts, scientists, historians and even a few real-life inventors. Subscribe to patented history of inventions wherever you listen to your podcasts. A report to the continent states that Richard and Anthony Woodville, Edward's brother-in-law, were both wounded in manners that appeared serious. Anthony would remain in London for what followed, but Richard joined a fresh muster at Windsor to face another threat. On the same day the Battle of Barnet took place, Queen Margaret and Prince Edward had landed in the south-west. They were recruiting in Devon and Somerset and planning to move along the Welsh border to meet up

with Jasper Tudor who was coming out of Wales. Edward took his army west and the two played cat and mouse. Margaret offered battle twice, both times, an attempt to distract Edward so she could get away from him. Margaret tried to cross the River Seven at Worcester, but the city held for Edward and refused her access. They pressed on to the next crossing at Chooksbury, covering 36 miles in blistering heat on the 3rd of May, arriving as night fell. Unfortunately for them,

Edward had kept pace in the sun and was hot on their heels. The Crollan Chronicle noted that both armies had now become so extremely fatigued with the labour of marching and thirst that they could proceed no further. On the morning of the 4th of May, 14th of May, 14th,000, The Battle of Tewkesbury would take place between these exhausted forces. The weather played a part once more.

This time, it was heat. Queen Margaret took the difficult, but perhaps an avoidable decision to allow her 17-year-old son, Prince Edward, to take part in the battle. It was difficult because it was dangerous for her only child and so much rested on his young shoulders. But it was unavoidable because she needed to show that the Lancastrian cause had a future worth fighting for that was willing to fight for itself. Prince Edward had to be all that his father had shown he was not.

Richard, Duke of Gloucester, again, led the vanguard. Edward took the centre and Hastings the rear. On the Lancasterian side, Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, led the vanguard. The centre was under the experienced Lord Wendlock with Prince Edward at his side, and their rear was led by the Earl of Devon. As the Yorkist archers bombarded the Lancastrian positions, Somerset realised they couldn't stand still and take the punishment. Gloucester was advancing on Somerset's position, nestled within a tangle of bushes, hawthorns and ditches.

Somerset made a daring move, funneling his men through lanes that they'd found to try and get away from Gloucester and flank Edward's centre. Here, it was a tactical decision rather than the weather that swung the battle. Before the fighting, Edward had found himself with 200 cavalry and nothing for them to do. He sent them just inside the tree line of a copse off to his side and told them to do whatever they felt was useful during the battle. As Somerset crept past them, the 200 spotted their chance and charged. Caught unawares, Somerset's force broke and ran many into the nearby Chukesbury Abbey pursued by Gloucester as Edward focused his attack on the Lancasterian centre.

Although the fighting was close for a long time, Edward overwhelmed his opponents. Prince Edward was among the dead. Early reports suggest he was killed during the fighting, though it's also been suggested that he was captured and killed in the aftermath of the battle, much as Rutland had been at Wakefield at the same age. Whatever happened, the House of Lancaster now had no air.

King Edward stormed into Tewksbury Abbey, waving his sword around and demanded the handover of those hiding within. One brave monk chastised the sweaty blood-soaked king for daring to enter the church with his sword drawn. Nevertheless, the king got his way and the men, including Somerset, were removed from the abbey and tried as traitors before being executed in the centre of Tewksbury on the 6th of May. By way of an apology, Edward had the abbey

redecorated, though he used his Yorkist colours of Murray and blue and adorned it with his personal badge of the sun in splendour. If you visit the abbey today and look up, you can still see Edward's expression of his triumph. Prince Edward was buried within the abbey, a plaque recording his death in the floor, overlooked by the colours and badges of those who had put him in his early grave. One of the doors at Shooksbury Abbey even claims to be lined on the inside with horse armour recovered from the field of the Battle of Chukesbury and bearing the puncture marks where arrows hit home. Queen Margaret was captured not far from the battlefield

and would, a few years later, be sold back to France where she would see out the remainder of her days, passing away in 1482, just missing out on seeing the House of York implode. Edward and his forces returned to London on the 21st of May. In his absence, things had been followed, from quiet. As Edward reached Worcester, news arrived that a huge uprising was brewing in the north. As the king prepared to set out to face it, Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland,

came to tell him that the mere threat of Edward's arrival had caused the revolt to disband. In London, while the king was distracted, trouble erupted when a man, known as the bastard of Fokomberg, attacked the city. He was Thomas Neville, an illegitimate son of Warwick's uncle, William Lord Fokenberg, who had been instrumental in Edward's rise and at the Battle of Toughton. Fokenberg had died in 1463, and Thomas, now in his 40s, had become a well-respected soldier and sailor, not unlike his cousin, Warwick. Thomas had sided with Warwick during the re-adeption and had been given control of the channel, tasked with preventing Edward from crossing back to England. The storms had prevented his success in this, and news of his.

Warwick's defeat and death had hit Thomas hard. The Earl had left instructions that if things went badly, Thomas was to secure London. On the 12th of May 1471, he reached London Bridge with an estimated 20,000 men at his back. The city locked its gates. Edward was in Coventry when he heard of the attack and sent 1,500 men immediately to defend his family, who were lodged in the tower. Two days later, he left himself with a many men as he could raise. Thomas had taken out his rage on the city, bringing cannons up to pound the walls. London Bridge was set ablaze, and two forces crossed the Thames to attack Bishop's Gate and Oldgate. The Londoners set up guns of their own and returned fire. Anthony Woodville,

Queen Elizabeth's brother, who had been wounded at Barnet, led a small force out of Oldgate to attack the bastard's forces. Driven back, Thomas was forced to retreat West before turning south, perhaps on hearing news from Chukesbury. Edward returned to London. During the night of his arrival, the 21st of May 1471, Henry the 6th death was reported to have occurred. Official sources said that the old king died of pure melancholy on hearing of the death of his son,

the capture of his wife and the collapse of his cause. Most people think Edward ordered his murder to snuff out the Lancasterian line once and for all. This done, Edward headed south and received the surrender of Thomas Neville. The bastard of Fokenberg was executed six months later at Richard Duke of Gloucester's Castle of Middellum, having apparently become embroiled in a new plot against Edward. In 1472, George Neville, Archbishop of York, was arrested and imprisoned, his vast wealth seized by the king. He remained a prisoner until November 1474 and died in June 1476.

ever having regained the trust of the Yorkist king. In many ways, 1471 marked the end, or at least an end, of the Wars of the Roses. It was no longer a dynastic dispute between the houses of Lancaster and York, because one was extinct. Some resistance remained. John DeVier, Earl of Oxford, hated Edward IV with a passion. Edward had executed Oxford's father and older brother, and the Earl remained bitterly opposed to Edward for the rest of his life. In fact, in 1473, Oxford, who had turned to piracy in the English Channel, stormed

and seized St Michael's Mount off the coast of Cornwall. When Edward heard that Oxford was using the Tide L Island as a fortress to recruit in the south-west, he sent Sir Henry Bodrigan to lay siege to the Earl. Imagine his annoyance when it was reported that every day at low tide, Bodrigan allowed Oxford's men out of St Michael's Mount to resupply. It was literally the opposite of a siege. Edward sent Richard Fortescue to replace Bodrigan, and although Walkworth's Chronicle insists that the mount could be held indefinitely by 20 men,

offers of pardons caused Oxford's men to leave him until he was forced to surrender on the 15th of September 1474. Oxford was sent to Ham's Castle at Calais, where the pirate earl would remain a prisoner for ten years. In many ways, this should have been the end of the story. In 1883, the House of York fell in upon itself when Edward VIII died unexpectedly aged 40. His 12-year-old son was proclaimed Edward V and then declared illegitimate. It was Edward VIII's youngest brother, the Duke of Gloucester, who instead became King Richard III.

That story is told in more detail in a previous episode on Richard III, and the story is complex and divisive today. Henry Tudor, the son of Lady Margaret Beaufort, won at the Battle of Bosworth on the 22nd of August 1485. The Tudor name that his dynasty made famous belied his Royal Boat connections. For many, that's another end, the definitive end, to the Wars of the Roses. But it isn't. Where it ends is as stickier topic as where it begins. Bosworth wasn't even the last battle of the Wars of the Roses, The Battle of Stokefield took place on the 16th of June 1487 as part of the Lambert's similar affair. History generally paints this as an effort to place Edward Urn of Warwick,

the son of George Duke of Clarence, onto the throne using an imposter. I think it was an uprising in favour of Edward V. Then there was Perkin Warbeck, or Richard of England, as he called himself. He spent much of the 1490s claiming to be Richard Duke of York, the youngest son of Edward IV. Did Richard III really murder the princes in the tower? Whatever you believe today, people in England in the 1490s weren't so sure he had.

Whoever he was, he was executed in 1499 alongside the Earl of Warwick. Beyond this, the sons of the Dillipole family would trouble the Tudors for years more. Edmund D'Lopold fled onto the continent with his brother Richard and began to call himself the White Rose the rightful king of England. Both were sons of one of Edward V. and Richard III's sisters.

He was handed over by the Holy Roman Emperor in a prisoner exchange for the Emperor's son who was held captive by Henry the 7th. Henry VIII then executed Edmund on the 30th of April 1513. Henry did this, in spite of his father's promises that Edmund would not be harmed and on the eve of an invasion of France.

I suspect Henry was trying to craft parallel to Henry V, who executed a rebel member of the House of York on the eve of sailing for what would become the Agincourt campaign, perhaps because Henry was a vicious tyrant desperate for fame right from the very beginning of his reign. Richard de Lephole then took up the mantle of the White Rose and was trying to gain military support when he was killed at the Battle of Pavia in 1525.

When news arrived of Richard's death and the King of France's capture, Henry VIII reportedly rejoiced more at the former than the latter. Incidentally, their other brother, William de LaPole, was put in the Tower in 1502 when his brothers fled. He died there in 1539. His 37 years as a prisoner is still the longest term anyone has ever served in the tower's history. Even that isn't the end. The Pohl family became the next focus of Yorkist ambition.

They were the children of Margaret Pohl, Countess of Sondon, Countess of Salisbury, the daughter of George Duke of Clarence. The family became caught up in Henry VIII's growing paranoia. Margaret's eldest son, Henry, was executed for treason, and she herself was beheaded in 1541, aged 67. One of her sons, Reginald, was a churchman who was on the continent. He enraged Henry VIII by refusing to support his break with Rome, and papal plots began to centre on marrying Reginald and Mary Tew.

in an effort to restore the House of York. Perhaps a real end date for the Wars of the Roses finally came on the 17th of November 1558. Coincidentally, on that day, both Reginald, then Archbishop of Canterbury, and Mary, then Queen Mary I, England's first Queen Regnant, died. 30 years of Lancaster and York fighting for the crown? How about 150 years of feud spilling?

into violence that swell the dynastic dispute and defined a century and a half of English history. That's closer to the real Wars of the Roses, a complex tangle of sharp thorns that I've barely scratched the surface of. So there you have it. If you've made it this far, well done. I hope you feel like you understand the complexities of the Wars of the Roses a little bit better. No more listening to me though. Next time I'm joined by historian Nathan Amin to discuss the Beaufort family, and that's followed by an episode with Dr Nicola Talis on someone who might be considered the winner of the Wars of the Roses, Lady Margaret Beaufort. Those pesky bofurts really do get everywhere. You can join Dr. Kat Jarman on Tuesday for another brand new episode. Don't forget to also subscribe wherever you get your podcasts from and to tell all of your friends

and family that you've gone medieval. If you get a moment, please drop us a review or rate us wherever you listen to your podcasts, including Spotify, to help new listeners to find us. If you're enjoying this and looking for a bit more medieval goodness in your life, then please do subscribe to our Medieval Monday's newsletter. Just follow the links in the show notes below, and I'll drop into your inbox every Monday with some news and thoughts for the week ahead.

Anyway, I better let you go. I've been Matt Lewis, and we've just gone medieval in the Wars of the Roses with history hit.