On the last day in the bunker, Mandelson says he encouraged Gordon to go the palace before dark, according to an account in the Herald Tribune. Perhaps Brown's instincts even then were for twilight, for a Götterdämmerung lit with a pyre of blazing mobile phones, pulling the walls of Number 10 down around himself. But in the end he went quietly enough, saying to Clegg on the phone;
The public has run out of patience, and so have I. I have served the country as best I can. I know the country’s mood. They will not tolerate me waiting another night. I have no option. You are a good man and you have to make a decision. I have made mine. It is final. I am going to the palace. Goodbye.
But humiliated enough? Oh no. Not for his poisonous legacy. Not for the spoilation of our economy, or for the trashing of our national culture, the condemnation of two generations to Welfare slavery, for shredding our international standing and the destruction of our hallowed institutions. For all this, humiliation must haunt Brown to the grave.