Any defence of the Duchess was hampered by her own confession to the truth of some of the charges, and by the strong evidence against her. That she was guilty of dabbling in the Black Art can hardly be doubted, and it is more than probable that she had used the sciences to foretell the future, an act which, though not in itself treasonable, might nevertheless be regarded with strong suspicion in one who was only divided by one frail life from the position of Queen. There still exists one of her books, a semi-medical, semi-astrological work translated from the original Arabic,[952] and it is undoubtedly established that Humphrey himself was interested in those sciences which bordered on the heretical. Roger Bolingbroke had a great reputation for knowledge of the Black Art, and his connection with Eleanor was known long before any suspicion of treason arose.[953] One of the accusations, too, seems probable in the light of Humphrey’s knowledge of the ancient classics, for it was said that the time-worn system of roasting a waxen image of the doomed King before a fire had been one of the treasonable witchcrafts employed,[954] a system which is to be found described in all its details in the classical authors which Duke Humphrey studied.
Behind Dame Eleanor stood her husband, and his character and reputation could not but have their influence on public opinion. It is to be remembered that both husband and wife had been friends with Queen Joan, who had been accused on a similar charge, and those who could cast their memories back to the early years of Henry VI.’s reign might remember another incident which might suggest that Humphrey took an interest in witchcraft and sorcery. When in 1425 he had almost come to blows with the Bishop of Winchester, one of the causes of quarrel was that he had removed from custody a certain ‘Ffrere Randolff,’ who had been in prison for treason. Friar Randolph was the man who had played the part of Bolingbroke in the Queen Joan scandal, the practiser of the Black Art, who was accused of casting spells to encompass the late King’s death.[955] Is it surprising, then, that men were ready to believe that the Duke of Gloucester was indeed guilty of practising witchcraft, when he had in the past championed one of its votaries in so autocratic a manner? It is more than probable that Humphrey devoted himself to a study of the art from a purely scientific point of view. All branches of learning—if, indeed, we may so call it—appealed to his inquiring mind, but he most likely approached it from the same standpoint as many at the present day approach spiritualism. His wife, being of a lower mental calibre, interested herself in the study of her husband, but treated it in a practical and not in a theoretical spirit. With this dangerous weapon in her hands it would be in no way surprising if she used it for concrete ends, and little by little came to try its efficacy in restoring some of the lost power of her husband. There is no evidence or suggestion that Humphrey himself knew of these treasonable practices, or that, had he known, he would have taken them seriously.
Evidence and probability therefore both speak for the guilt of the Duchess, who increased the appearances against her by her flight to sanctuary instead of bravely facing the charges; and though the people sympathised with her in her trouble,[956] they do not seem to have doubted for a moment that she was guilty. Her pride and ambition were well known, and were dwelt on in the poem entitled ‘The Lament of the Duchess of Gloucester,’[957] whilst another contemporary rhymer writes:
‘Thy ladye was so proud and highe of harte
that she hur selffe thought pereless of estate
and yet higher faynd she wold have starte
butt sodenlye she ffell as was hur fate.’[958]
Whatever we may think of Eleanor’s guilt, it is obvious that the whole case was exploited by Gloucester’s enemies to injure the man who had so lately opposed their plans. The Duchess was known to have considerable influence over the King,[959] who at the time of her trial showed a great desire to save her life,[960] and we have seen how the object of both parties was to secure the royal ear. To strike Eleanor was to strike her husband, for in spite of the inauspicious beginning of her connection with Gloucester, she had succeeded in establishing her position as the first lady of the kingdom. Of late grants to Humphrey had been made to himself and his wife;[961] she had been permitted to wear the robes of the Garter; she was petitioned as one who held a position of importance, and had interfered in matters of state administration;[962] the Pope had acknowledged her position and had issued a Bull in her favour;[963] the Monastery of St. Albans had admitted her into its fraternity;[964] she had been singled out for particular favours by the King when distributing his New-Year’s gifts. She was indeed no weakling whose insecure position might be safely attacked, but a woman who had claimed, and had justified her claim, to be accounted of in the kingdom.
To convict Eleanor of treason, then, was to injure her husband in no small degree, and the whole history of the case points to the fact that it was engineered by his enemies. Unusual publicity was given to the charges against Bolingbroke; he was publicly paraded before the citizens of London; and then, when the ground had been carefully prepared, the charge was extended to the first lady in the land. Special commissioners were organised, and every effort made to bring her under the secular arm, and if she escaped with her life, it was not through any fault of her accusers. To strengthen this contention it is well to take the striking parallel of Queen Joan. The charge of sorcery was often used in the fifteenth century as a means to remove political opponents; the trumped-up charge against the Maid of Orleans is an obvious instance;[965] but the fate of Henry IV.’s unhappy Queen bears too striking a likeness to the disgrace of Eleanor Cobham to be lightly passed over. She, too, was accused on the confession of her chaplain, Father Randolph, of having ‘compassed and imagined the King’s death in the most horrible manner that could be devised,’[966] and to this end she was said by the chroniclers to have used sorcery, which Randolph practised at her suggestion.[967] She, too, was imprisoned for life, but the more ignominious part of Eleanor’s punishment was spared her, and she was later released from confinement.
It was the public penance, perhaps, more than anything else, which betrayed the political animus which lay behind the condemnation of Gloucester’s wife, and which justifies the assertion of Fabyan, that the attack on the Duchess was part of an organised plan to overthrow the Duke.[968] Eleanor had doubtless made many personal enemies. Born of a family of no great standing, she had not by her early conduct improved her position. Since her marriage to a Prince of the blood royal, her pride, fanned by the success of her ambitions, had increased, and had given offence to many who regarded her as an upstart. But this was not enough to account for the degrading details of her fall. It was her husband at whom the blow was aimed, and it was he that suffered as well as his wife.