Chapter VII: Disgrace and Death (2)

Humphrey, therefore, had chosen the better part, and had concurred in a policy of which he was not the originator, but the Beaufort party showed no signs of following this good example. They knew that Henry's marriage would have an immense bearing on home politics, and that his wife would probably be able to influence him as she liked. They must therefore provide him with a bride entirely of their own choosing, and one who would not be acceptable to Gloucester, whose influence was to be counteracted by their nominee to the position of Queen of England. It was for this reason that they had changed their policy, and now were advising the marriage with Margaret of Anjou. Notwithstanding the popular opposition, Suffolk carried out his instructions; the marriage was arranged, and a truce was signed with France,[984] but it was no good augury for the usefulness of this marriage alliance that it could not be brought to form the basis of a final peace. To the last Humphrey urged that it was dishonourable to abandon the negotiations begun with the Count of Armagnac,[985] but when matters were finally settled, he determined to accept the situation, and was the most prominent of those lords and gentlemen who escorted Margaret to London after her marriage at Titchfield Abbey.[986] On this occasion he had with him a guard of honour consisting of five hundred men, dressed in his livery.[987] Later, too, when Suffolk was thanked in Parliament for his recent labours in negotiating this marriage, Humphrey delivered a speech in favour of the man who had brought to England one who was to prove a firebrand in the country, and to be numbered amongst his own chief opponents.[988]

This sweet reasonableness is not a trait hitherto found in any of Duke Humphrey's actions, and it suggests that more and more he was coming to realise that he was playing a losing game. He thought it best to bow before the storm, for we cannot believe that, had he thought it to his own personal advantage, he would have abandoned a plan merely for the sake of the internal peace of the kingdom. We have here yet another indication that he was unable to summon to his aid even one of those fitful bursts of energy which earlier he had commanded, but if we are to believe the report of an historian who wrote in the early part of the sixteenth century, his natural impetuosity led him to give the lie to his weak behaviour, and to show that he still held by the principles with regard to English policy on the Continent that he had always voiced. We are told that he delivered a speech in Parliament, urging that it was necessary to defy all conventions and break the truce agreed to, which was, he declared, a mere subterfuge on the part of France to gain a breathing space, an interval during which to recoup her strength.[989]

1445] MARRIAGE OF HENRY VI.

There is, however, no absolute inconsistency between his recent actions and this speech. He had accepted the state of affairs when he welcomed Margaret to her new English home, but that did not necessarily imply a cessation of the war; marriage, which the historian generally accepts as the final confirmation of the treaty of peace, was in this case regarded as a mere preliminary to a possible, but rather improbable pacification. The truce was short, and the end of the war was not to be yet. The marriage of Margaret to Henry was an isolated incident, not part of a policy, in its effect at least, though it might be in its intention.

1445] GLOUCESTER'S WAR POLICY

Humphrey had all along argued for the continuance of the war; he believed in its righteousness and in its advantages at home as well as abroad. Even as it was rumoured that Henry V. had embarked on foreign conquest as an antidote to internal dissension, so Humphrey, feeling the spirit of strife which was abroad--a spirit, be it confessed, that he had fostered--looked to the war to distract the nobles from conflict at home, and a French chronicler of the time was the first to realise this aspect of the Duke's policy.[990] It was not a new idea. It had been Henry V.'s, as we have seen; more important still, it was mentioned as a maxim of government in one of those books which it was Gloucester's joy to study. Ægidius, in his _De Regimine Principium_, writes: 'Guerra enim exterior tollit seditiones, et reddit cives magis unanimes et concordes. Exemplum hujus habemus in Romanis quibus postquam defecerunt exteriora bella intra se ipsos bellare coeperunt,'[991] and a copy of this book was among Humphrey's gifts to the University of Oxford. It is a wrong principle; to us it is even absurd; but the absurdity was not then obvious. It contains the too common fallacy of confounding cause and effect, for though the war for a time might distract the turbulent noble's attention, it made him all the more turbulent when his new employment, the cause of his distraction, was removed. But contemporaries did not see this. Basin, the historian, who divined the motives of Gloucester's war policy, has nothing but praise for the underlying principle.[992] Suffolk was no enthusiastic advocate for peace, and the Beaufort faction had espoused a peace policy in the past merely because it suited their private plans--plans, too, which were not to increase the internal peace of the kingdom--and because their nominees were totally incapable of carrying on the war, as had been lately proved by the failure of the incompetent Somerset.[993] If Gloucester followed the wrong policy in advocating war, we could not expect it to be otherwise when we remember his early training. It is a truism--like so many truisms, too often forgotten in practice--to say that a man must not be judged by the standards of an age that is not his own, and it is absurd to condemn Humphrey's war policy when we look at the attitude of his contemporaries to the same subject. Advantage there was none for him to be reaped from the continuance of the war; factiousness is no longer a possible explanation of his motive; his attitude therefore may be attributed to a desire for the good of the kingdom, for the good of the House of which he himself and his poor, weak nephew were the last representatives.

Whether Gloucester had really delivered himself of these opinions on the war with France or no, he had succeeded in making his enemies desperate. Queen Margaret was not long in grasping the situation of parties in England, and she naturally leaned on Suffolk, the man who had brought her to the position she held, the man who from the first had declared himself her friend and servant. Together they scanned the political horizon, and only one obstacle could they see to the success of their plans, and that obstacle was Duke Humphrey. Though discredited at Court, and bereft of the influence he had once held in the councils of the nation, he had still a definite position in the kingdom as heir to the throne, and did not lack supporters among certain classes. Moreover, the Duke of York, a firm opponent of Beaufort influence, gained what little power he had from the support of Gloucester. Together these two had to be considered as the leaders of a party of some importance. It was the old story of Gloucester and Beaufort still, for the new party headed by the Queen and Suffolk was but a new version of that formerly led by the Cardinal Bishop of Winchester, and had the support of the Beaufort interest, that is, of the Earl of Somerset, Lord Say de Sele and Adam Moleyns.[994] Margaret, the centre of the confederacy, was an ambitious woman, with more ingenuity than common-sense. Young and inexperienced, she had alighted suddenly on a hotbed of intrigue and party strife. At once her mind was made up: she would be the predominant influence in English politics, and this by means of her ascendency over the weak mind of her husband, an ascendency so easy to procure. Suffolk was bound by every call of self-interest to play the game of the Queen; his claim to regard must be based on the Queen's success; and with the impetuosity and cunning inherited from his mercantile ancestors, he drew the whole Beaufort faction with him. In opposition to this strong combination, whose various private interests impelled them to act together, stood Gloucester, almost alone, but with one very strong card in his hand. Suffolk whilst in France had been inveigled into agreeing to the cession of Maine to that country,[995] but that this was generally known at the time is very doubtful. At any rate, when it should become known, as known it must be sooner or later, there would be a very stiff storm to be weathered by Margaret and her friends, and if Gloucester were still to the fore, this storm might well cause shipwreck to her party.[996] Possibly the knowledge of this fact had produced Gloucester's speech against the truce, but it is more likely that as yet it was a danger which lay concealed in the womb of the future. If this were so, Gloucester must be humiliated, perhaps removed, before the truth became known. Every effort was made, therefore, to alienate the King from his uncle;[997] suspicions as to his intentions were hazarded, and by degrees suggestions developed into direct accusations. The mind of Henry, already bordering on the brink of madness--a state in which suspicion is quick to arise--yielded readily to the treatment to which it was submitted. Gloucester, he came to believe, was plotting against his life from fear that an heir to the throne would be born; his preparations were being made. Everything, so Henry was told, pointed to this, for the deeds of Eleanor Cobham could not be disassociated from her husband. The one menace to the peace of the kingdom was Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester.[998]

1445-6] PARTY HOSTILE TO GLOUCESTER

The drama of Gloucester's life is drawing to a close, and the tragedy of its end is in sight. Any lingering regard for his uncle in the mind of the King had passed, and his attitude during the visit of the French embassy which came to England in 1445 illustrates the success of the tactics employed by Margaret. It was on July 15 that the ambassadors came before the King, whom they found supported by Suffolk, Dorset, the Cardinal of York, the Chancellor, Adam Moleyns, Gloucester, Chester, and Warwick. Henry greeted them most warmly, and assured them of his great desire for peace, shooting glances of defiance all the time at Gloucester, and when he had finished his greeting he turned to Suffolk, and exchanged a smile of understanding with him. It was also reported that he had pressed the Chancellor's hand, and had said that he was very glad that some present had heard his words, and that they seemed so little at their ease.[999] Margaret had been successful indeed. The King was entirely alienated from his uncle, and he delighted to show his contempt for his former adviser's counsel, even as all small minds delight to show a contempt they have no right to indulge. Suffolk was even more outspoken than his royal master. He openly and loudly declared that he cared not what the Duke of Gloucester thought, or whether he opposed him or not, for his power was gone, and the King no longer regarded him.[1000]

1448] PARLIAMENT OF BURY

Humphrey's career was over. The King denied him access to the Court, and he was removed from the Privy Council.[1001] Indeed in the later chroniclers we read of an attempt to bring him to justice, and of an indictment before the Council. He was accused, it is said, of malpractices during his Protectorate, especially of having caused men adjudged to die to be put to other execution than the law of the land allowed. A brilliant speech, if we are to believe the report, refuted the charges so successfully, that they were allowed to drop.[1002] This partial success, however, availed the Duke nothing, as his enemies had decided to remove him from their path, and for this purpose it was proposed to call a Parliament to which he was summoned, 'the which parliament was maad only for to sle the noble Duke of Gloucester.'[1003] Suffolk, it seems, had laid certain accusations against him,[1004] and he had induced the King to summon this assembly, to crush the only man that stood in his way. At first Parliament was summoned to meet at Cambridge, but it was ultimately transferred to Bury St. Edmunds, a place where Suffolk was strong,[1005] and Gloucester weak, apart from a certain support from the Abbey there.[1006] Gloucester's fate was sealed. With cunning ingenuity Suffolk spread a report that a rising led by Duke Humphrey might be expected any day, and he made elaborate preparations for guarding the King at each stopping-place on the way to Bury. Besides this, the almost incredible number of forty or sixty thousand men was collected and stationed round the town.[1007] Gloucester was ordered to attend the Parliament, and all waited to see whether he would come.[1008] Totally ignorant of the elaborate preparations for his reception, yet knowing the dangers which beset his path, Humphrey set out for Bury.[1009] Far from making any show of resistance,[1010] or coming to Parliament in a spirit of bravado, and followed by an overwhelming retinue, he came all unsuspicious that a trap had been laid for him, like an innocent lamb--so the chronicler quaintly puts it[1011]--hoping that he might be able to procure pardon for his imprisoned wife.[1012] The same chronicler, who was not one of those who sang the praises of Duke Humphrey, says that he was conscious of no evil in himself, and suspected nothing as he rode out on his last ride,[1013] accompanied by some eighty horsemen,[1014] no extraordinary retinue for a prince of the blood royal on a long, and possibly dangerous journey.

1448] DEATH OF GLOUCESTER

Parliament had been opened on February 10 with a speech from the Chancellor, Archbishop Stafford, who declared with suspicious unction, that 'blessed was the man who walked not in the counsel of the ungodly,'[1015] but it was not until the 18th that the Duke of Gloucester arrived. When within half a mile of the gates of the town, he was met by two officers of the King's household, who told him that the King wished him to go straight to his lodgings, and not visit the Court, since the weather was so cold for travelling; at least so was the message reported subsequently by some of the Duke's retinue. It was eleven o'clock in the morning when Gloucester rode into the city by the south gate, and passing through the 'horsemarket,' turned to his left into the Northgate Ward. Here he passed through a mean street, and as he rode along, he asked a passer-by, by what name the alley was known. 'Forsoothe, my Lord, hit is called the Dede Lane,' came the answer. Then the inborn superstition of 'the Good Duke' asserted itself; so with an old prophecy he had read ringing in his ears, and a word of pious resignation on his lips, he rode on to the 'North Spytyll' outside the Northgate, otherwise called 'Seynt Salvatoures,'[1016] where he was to lodge. Having eaten his dinner, a deputation came to wait upon him, consisting of the Duke of Buckingham, the Marquis of Dorset, the Earl of Salisbury, Lord Sudley, and Viscount Beaumont. This last in his capacity of High Constable placed the Duke under arrest by the King's command. Two yeomen of the guard and a sergeant were appointed to take charge of the prisoner, who was removed from the care of his own immediate servants, some of whom, including Sir Roger Chamberlain, were arrested the same evening between eight and nine o'clock. The arrest passed off quietly, but three days later about twenty-eight more of Gloucester's retainers, including his natural son 'Arteys,' were arrested and sent to divers places of confinement. This was on Shrove Tuesday, but it was unknown to their master, who was lying in a state of coma, so that for three days he neither moved nor had any feeling. Towards the end of this time, however, he recovered sufficiently to confess his sins, and to receive the last rites of the Church, and then sinking again he died, so it is related, about three o'clock in the afternoon of Tuesday, February 23, 1447.[1017]

Next day the news of his death was proclaimed, and his body was exposed, so that all might see that no mark of violence was upon him.[1018] His corpse was visited by many during the day, and towards evening he was disembowelled, placed in a 'seryd cloth, and layd in a lead chest,' encased in a coffin of poplar-wood. On the Saturday, just a week after his arrival in the town, Humphrey's body was carried to the Grey Friars' Monastery at Babwell,[1019] escorted thither by twenty torches borne by members of his own entourage; indeed, apart from the three crown officials who had been his gaolers, none but his personal retainers accompanied the cortège. On the Sunday the Abbot of St. Albans 'dede his dirge,' and the next day, after a mass had been said for the repose of his soul, his earthly remains were carried out on their last journey. By slow stages the coffin was carried to St. Albans, resting by night at Newmarket, Berkway, and Ware, and arriving at its destination on Friday the 21st. Here again was a dirge said for him, followed by Mass, and on the Saturday the body was placed in the 'Feyre vout,' prepared for him in his lifetime, amidst the lamentations of many of his faithful servants, and in the presence of the crown officials, who were the only outward evidences that a king's son was being laid to rest.[1020] The whole ceremony of interment was that of a private individual, not that of a prince;[1021] the outward glamour of the pomp and circumstance which had accompanied his three brothers to the grave was absent. Humphrey died a prisoner, a disgraced politician, but he was followed to the grave by a band of genuine mourners. All the artificial adjuncts of his life, all the pride of power and position which had conspired to make him a great prince, had vanished, and he was laid in his last resting-place by loving hands, who took a mournful pleasure in thus honouring their dead master without any of that formal and unlovely ceremonial which disguises death as a pageant.

FOOTNOTES:

[895] _Excerpta Historica_, 148-150.

[896] Cotton MS., Cleopatra, C. iv. f. 54. There is no evidence that
Catherine did oppose Gloucester. She appointed him a
supervisor of her will. _Rot. Parl._, iv. 506.

[897] _Chron. Henry VI._, 17; _Polychronicon_, f. 336; cf. Stow,
377.

[898] Devon, _Issue Roll_, 431; _Ordinances_, v. 15.

[899] _Rot. Parl._, iv. 502.

[900] _Ibid._, iv. 496-499.

[901] _Ordinances_, v. 56.

[902] _Ibid._, v. 80.

[903] _Rot. Parl._, v. 438, 439: _Cal. Rot. Pat._, 280.

[904] _Rot. Scot._, ii. 303. Rymer, V. i. 17, gives date as 1437.

[905] There is a hint of a gift in 1435; _Epist. Acad._, 114. The
first important gift of one hundred and twenty vols. is in
1439; _Epist. Acad._, 117-119.

[906] Lydgate's Prologue to _The Falls of Princes_.

[907] _Ordinances_, iv. 132.

[908] _Cal. Rot. Pat._, 280; Dugdale, ii. 199.

[909] See the autograph inscription at the end of Oriel MS., xxxii.

[910] _Cal. of French Rolls_, Rep. 48, App. 322.

[911] See the 'Diary of Beckington' printed in _Ordinances_, v.
335-407.

[912] See Beaucourt, iii. 149-151.

[913] This document is printed by Stevenson, and is called 'A
protest against the enlargement of Orleans'; Stevenson,
_Letters and Papers_, ii. 440. He copies the title and
document from Ashmole MS., 856, ff. 392-405, but the title is
a mistake. This is an indictment of Beaufort and the
Archbishop of York, his ally, and the reasons against the
release of Orleans are to be found on ff. 405-412 of the same
MS. In Arnold's _Chron._, pp. 279-286, where this same
document is printed, the title runs more correctly 'A
complaynte made to Kynge Henry VI. by the Duke of Gloster
upon the Cardinal of Winchester.'

[914] Ashmole MS., 856, ff. 392-405, printed in Stevenson, _Letters
and Papers_, ii. 440-451; Arnold's _Chron._, 279-286. The
indictment must have been written in January or February
1440, as the month of March is referred to in the future.

[915] Plummer's _Fortescue_, p. 134.

[916] Plummer's _Fortescue_, notes, p. 318.

[917] Cotton MS., Vitellius, A. xvi. f. 102, says that these
articles were laid to the charge of Beaufort in the
Parliament which met on January 14, 1440.

[918] Ashmole MS., 856, ff. 405-412: Speed, 660, printed from a copy
in the chronicler's possession; Rymer, V. i. 76, 77. Cf.
_Hist. MSS. Commission_, App. to Report iii., 279.

[919] Stubbs, iii. 126, and Ramsay, ii. 25, both regard the first
manifesto by Gloucester as the one that influenced public
opinion, but the opening words of the King's reply to his
uncle confute this theory. These two historians also fail to
distinguish clearly between Gloucester's two manifestoes, and
imply that the second followed on the King's indication of
his policy.

[920] Ashmole MS., 856 ff. 417-423; Stevenson, _Letters and Papers_,
ii. 451-460.

[921] _Paston Letters_, i. 40.

[922] Rymer, V. i. 97.

[923] _Rot. Parl._, v. 311.

[924] February 19, 1440; _Rot. Pat._, 18 _Henry VI._, Part ii. m. 25.

[925] _Ordinances_, v. 138, 139.

[926] Amundesham, _Annales_, ii. App. D. 295.

[927] Stevenson, _Letters and Papers_, ii. 604. Cf. de Beaucourt,
iii. 179, 180. When the Duke of York was appointed
Captain-General in France in 1440, he was given the same
powers as the Duke of Bedford used to have 'or as my Lord of
Gloucester, or shulde have had now late.' So it seems that
the plan of commissioning Gloucester to undertake the French
war had gone some way.--Stevenson, _Letters and Papers_
(William of Worcester collections), ii. [586].

[928] _Cal. of French Rolls_, Rep. 48, App. 347. This appointment
was not finally confirmed until August 28, 1442. Thomas Kyrel
acted as Lieutenant of Calais in the interval, _Ordinances_,
v. 205.

[929] Stevenson, _Letters and Papers_, ii. [586].

[930] _Eng. Chron._, 56.

[931] Walsingham, _Hist. Angl._, ii. 249, 250.

[932] _St. Albans Chron._, i. 50.

[933] _Eng. Chron._, 57, gives Sunday July 25, but in 1441 Sundays
fell on July 16 and 23, and the former seems the more likely
day in view of subsequent dates. Moreover, the same
chronicler gives July 22 as the date of Eleanor's subsequent
summons before the ecclesiastical commissioners.

[934] The Eve of St. Margaret, July 19; William of Worcester, 460.
_Eng. Chron._, 58, gives July 25.

[935] _Eng. Chron._, 58; _Chron. Henry VI._, 30; Rymer, V. i. 110;
Gregory 183, 184; William of Worcester, 468; Cotton MS.,
Cleopatra, C. iv. f. 58vo, _Political Songs_, ii. 207; Stow,
381. There is considerable doubt as to who Stanley was. In
the various chronicles and official documents there is
mention of a Sir Thomas Stanley, a Sir John Stanley, and a
John Stanley, Esquire. Probably these were two men bearing
the same surname, and were both concerned in the matter.

[936] _Eng. Chron._, 58, 59; Cotton MS., Cleopatra, C. iv. f. 59;
_Lond. Chron._, 129; Stow, 381.

[937] _Lond. Chron._, 129; Cotton MS., Cleopatra, C. iv. f. 59,
59vo; Gregory, 184; William of Worcester, 460, 461; Stow,
182.

[938] _Lond. Chron._, 129; _Eng. Chron._, 59, 60; William of
Worcester, 461; Gregory, 184; Fabyan, 614; Stow, 581.

[939] Sir Thomas Stanley was an officer of the King's household and
King of the Isle of Man (Cotton MS., Vitellius, A. xvi. f.
102vo). Later he played a subordinate part in the arrest of
Gloucester at Bury.

[940] William of Worcester, 461; _Eng. Chron._, 60.

[941] Ellis, _Letters_, 2nd Series, i. 107; _Lond. Chron._, 130;
Devon, _Issue Roll_, 441.

[942] Rymer, V. i. 127; Devon, _Issue Roll_, 448.

[943] _Ordinances_, vi. 51; Fabyan, 614; Holkham MS., p. 10.

[944] _Brief Notes_, 154.

[945] _Chron. Henry VI._, 31.

[946] Devon, _Issue Roll_, 448.

[947] _Excerpta Historica_, 278, Will of Sir John Steward. This,
however, does not prove that Eleanor was confined at Calais,
as the editor of this will thinks, for Steward or Stiward was
one of the two gentlemen appointed to take care of her at
Leeds Castle, and in her later confinement.

[948] See Ellis, _Letters_, 2nd Series, i. 107; Devon, _Issue Roll_,
441.

[949] Hall, 202. See also 'Lament of the Duchess of Gloucester,' a
contemporary ballad, 'A word for me durst no man say,'
_Political Songs_, ii. 206.

[950] Rymer, V. i. 110.

[951] Lansdowne MS., i. f. 79.

[952] Sloane MS., 248. See App. A.

[953] William of Worcester, 461.

[954] Fabyan, 614.

[955] Cotton MS., Julius, B. ii. ff. 68vo, 75. Randolph seems to
have had considerable connection with Gloucester, and to have
been one of his literary followers. There still exists
amongst a collection of astrological tables certain 'Canones
pro tabulis ejus (_i.e._ Humphrey) astronomicis secundum
Fratrem Randolfe'; Sloane MS., 407, ff. 224-227.

[956] _Eng. Chron._, 60.

[957] _Political Songs_, ii. 205.

[958] Rawlinson MS., Classis, C. 813, ff. llvo, 12, a
sixteenth-century collection of songs, but this one by
internal evidence was evidently written by a contemporary.

[959] _Chron. Henry VI._, 30.

[960] See _Political Songs_, ii. 207.

[961] See _e.g. Cal. Rot. Pat._, 277.

[962] _Ancient Correspondence_, vol. lvii. No. 97.

[963] _Add. Charters_, 44, 531.

[964] Cotton MS., Nero, D. vii. f. 154 (June 25, 1431).

[965] Bedford described Joan of Arc as 'a disciple and Lyme of the
Feend called the Pucelle that used fals enchantements and
Sorcerie'; Rymer, IV. iv. 141.

[966] _Rot. Parl._, iv. 118.

[967] _Lond. Chron._, 107; Walsingham, _Hist. Angl._, ii. 331. See
also Harleian MS., 2256, f. 193vo.

[968] Fabyan, 614; Holkham MS., p. 10.

[969] Shakespeare, second part of _King Henry VI._, Act II. Scene
iv.

[970] 'But then he fell into a foul error, Moved by his wife Eleanor
Cobham, To truste her so men thought he was to blame.'

This is how the incident struck the rhyming chronicler Hardyng, 400.

[971] _Ordinances_, v. 199.

[972] _Ibid._, v. 280.

[973] Amundesham, _Annales_, ii. App. B. 289. We find him at
Greenwich in the following year also (Dugdale, _Monasticon_,
ii. 245), and again on another occasion (_Beckington
Correspondence_, ii. 244). See also _Rot. Pat._, 25 _Henry
VI._, Part i. m. 16.

[974] _Inquisitiones_, A.Q.D. File 449, No. 1 (June 13, 1442).

[975] We find Gloucester and Kemp adopting the same attitude with
regard to the prosecution of the war in 1443; _Ordinances_,
v. 224. Kemp was alienated from the Beaufort counsels by the
advent of Suffolk, with whom he could not agree (see Ramsay,
ii. 115).

[976] _Ordinances_, v. 266.

[977] Charter printed in Dugdale, _Monasticon_, ii. 244, 245. The
transfer was completed, for reference is made to it in 1454;
_Rot. Parl._, v. 253.

[978] _Rot. Parl._, v. 56.

[979] Rymer, V. i. 130.

[980] _Ordinances_, vi. 32; cf. Rymer, V. i. 130.

[981] Rymer, V. i. 112.

[982] _Beckington Correspondence_, ii. 177-248.

[983] _Ibid._, ii. 212-215, 244.

[984] _Eng. Chron._, 61. The writ to Gloucester as Warden of the
Cinque Ports to observe and proclaim the truce is dated
January 2, 1445; Rymer, V. i. 153.

[985] Stevenson, _Letters and Papers_, i. 123. See also
_Polychronicon_, f. 337; Fabyan, 618; Grafton, i. 624;
Holinshed, iii. 207.

[986] Cotton MS., Vitellius, A. xvi. f. 104.

[987] _Polychronicon_, f. 337vo; Fabyan, 617; Holinshed, iii. 207;
Stow, 384; cf. _Chronicles of London Bridge_, 275; Carte,
_Hist. of England_, ii. 727.

[988] _Rot. Parl._, v. 73.

[989] Polydore Vergil, 69.

[990] Basin, i. 189.

[991] Ægidius, _De Regimine Principium_, III. ii. 15.

[992] Basin, i. 150, says that the subsequent events justified
Gloucester's wish to continue the war.

[993] Basin, i. 150, says that Somerset's secrecy was so great, that
it is doubtful whether at the end of his campaign his
intentions were known even to himself.

[994] Waurin, iv. 351, 352. He says the Bishop of Salisbury was one
of this party, but he probably means Moleyns, who was Dean of
Salisbury.

[995] For an account of this see T. Gascoigne, _Loci e Libro
Veritatum_, edited by J. E. Thorold Rogers (Oxford, 1881), p.
190.

[996] This is the fear ascribed to Gloucester's enemies in Fabyan,
619, and Leland, _Collectanea_, I. ii. 494. _Eng. Chron._,
63, hints at some plan which the common people did not know
of as yet, and which Suffolk and his party could not carry
out until Gloucester should be out of the way. Basin, i. 189,
also suggests that Gloucester's known hostility to the
cession of Maine had something to do with his suspicious
death.

[997] Mathieu de Coussy, 30; Hall, 209; Polydore Vergil, 71.

[998] _Chron. Henry VI._, 33; Mathieu de Coussy, 30; Whethamstede,
i. 179. Cf. Hardyng, 400.

[999] Stevenson, _Letters and Papers_, i. 110, 111.

[1000] _Ibid._, i. 116, 123.

[1001] _Chron. Henry VI._, 33; Waurin, iv. 353.

[1002] Polydore Vergil, 72; Hall, 209; Holinshed, iii. 210, 211;
Holkham MS., p. 58.

[1003] _Eng. Chron._, 62.

[1004] _Hist. Croyland. Contin._, i. 521.

[1005] Stubbs, iii. 135. Cf. Carte, _Hist. of England_, ii. 727.

[1006] Gloucester was a member of the Fraternity.

[1007] _Brief Notes_, 150; Richard Fox, 116.

[1008] _Eng. Chron._, 62; _Chron. Henry VI._, 33; _Short Eng.
Chron._, 65; _Lond. Chron._, 135.

[1009] From a pardon to one of Gloucester's servants of a later date
it seems that the Duke came to Bury straight from Greenwich
(Rymer, V. i. 179). Stow, 386, followed by Holkham MS., p.
59, says he came from 'his Castle of Devizes in Wiltshire.'
_Brief Notes_, 150, says he came from Wales.

[1010] Ramsay, ii. 73, says, 'Gloucester made a show of resistance,
a crowning act of folly, of which his adversaries made the
most.' I can find no authority to justify this statement.

[1011] _Chron. Henry VI._, 33; _Lond. Chron._, 135, says 'he mekely
obeied' when put under arrest.

[1012] _Brief Notes_, 150.

[1013] _Chron. Henry VI._, 33.

[1014] Richard Fox, 116.

[1015] _Rot. Parl._, v. 128.

[1016] The ruins of St. Saviour's Hospital can still be seen on the
road leading from Bury to Thetford.

[1017] Richard Fox, 116, 117; _Eng. Chron._, 62, 63; Gregory, 188;
_Chron. Henry VI._, 33, 34; Hardyng, 400; William of
Worcester, 464; _Lond. Chron._, 135; _Brief Notes_, 150;
Stow, 386; _Hist. Croyland. Contin._, i. 521; _Short Eng.
Chron._, 65. An entry on the verso of the last folio of
Lincoln MS., 106, records the death of Gloucester. Holinshed,
iii. 211.

[1018] _Brief Notes_, 150; Fabyan, 619.

[1019] _Brief Notes_, 150, erroneously states that he was buried
here. The site of this Franciscan monastery can still be
traced about half a mile outside Bury St. Edmunds on the
Thetford road. Lewis, _Topographical Dictionary_, i. 659.

[1020] Richard Fox, 117, 118.

[1021] Mathieu de Coussy, 31, is the only contemporary writer to lay
stress on this.