As late as January 28th, Margaret of York and Mary of Burgundy wrote to Louis XI. from Ghent: "We are still hoping that Monseigneur is alive in the hands of his enemies." Other rumours continued to be current, not only for weeks but for years. In 1482, it was gravely recounted that the vanished duke had retired to Brucsal in Swabia, where he led an austere life, genus vitae horridum atque asperum.
But, unfortunately, when they were set to work, to work was just what they would not do: wherefore very little has come of them, and very little is left of them; and now nobody knows what they were, save a few archaeological old gentlemen who scratch in queer corners, and find little there save Ptinum Furem, Blaptem Mortisagam, Acarum Horridum, and Tineam Laciniarum.
Epist. 22, ad Eustochium: "O quoties ego ipse in eremo constitutus, et in illa vasta solitudine quae exusta solis ardoribus horridum monachis praestat habitaculum putabam me Romanis interesse deliciis.
More especially marked were the flat low-toned bumps and splashes of large drops from the trees on the broad horizontal leaves of Echinopanax horridum, like the drumming of thundershower drops on veratrum and palm leaves, while the mosses were indescribably beautiful, so fresh, so bright, so cheerily green, and all so low and calm and silent, however heavy and wild the wind and the rain blowing and pouring above them.