He commenced his journey to York about the end of Lent, his train consisted of a hundred and sixty men and servants, and two wagons loaded with the relics of his furniture. He travelled slowly onward, walked in the procession of the monks to the cathedral at Peterboro’ on Palm Sunday, kept Maunday Thursday by washing the feet of the poor and bestowing alms and blessings, he preached in the churches, judged between contending parties, arguing peace, forbearance, and charity among all men. As he drew towards York, a great multitude of people congregated to see him arrive, among whom were the clergy of the diocese, who welcomed him with the reverence due to his pontifical dignity. As he had never been installed in the archepiscopal see, the Cathedral was prepared for the ceremony, but, on the preceding Friday, as he was sitting at dinner, the Earl of Northumberland accompanied by a large retinue arrived at the castle, and arrested him for high treason, and informed him that his orders were to convey him to London. On his departure a great crowd assembled round the castle, and, as he came out on his mule guarded, the people began to exclaim “God save your Grace, and evil over-take them that have taken you from us,” but the Cardinal was deaf to the voice of pity, he considered his destruction at hand, and his constitution, impaired by age and sorrow, gave way. One day, at dinner, he complained of a coldness in his stomach, and was soon after seized with a violent dysentery, which gradually reduced his strength. However, he obeyed the king’s mandate—being anxious to prove his innocence before his accusers at a proper Court, but his illness increased, and on the evening of the third day of his return journey he approached Leicester. The appearance of nature accorded with the condition of the prisoner, the end of the year was drawing nigh, and the Cardinal beheld, for the last time, the falling leaf and the setting sun.