CHAPTER II
PLOTS AND TOKENS
Before the Act dissolving the Lesser Monasteries was passed, in March 1536, the opposition to Henry’s policy was too much broken up by class distinctions to be very formidable; nor did the chief of the conservative nobles ever encourage the popular movement. Henry was able to crush his opponents separately, when a united attack might have shaken even his weight from the throne.
In the first place he was opposed by the party of the Old Nobility. By this we do not mean Norfolk and other time-servers of his opinion, but another and weaker faction, the remaining members of the Yorkist nobility, who had survived the Wars of the Roses. The religious problems of Henry’s reign somewhat obscure its connection with the history of the century before it. The days of Cranmer and Pole seem so far removed from those of Warwick the Kingmaker and Richard Crookback that it requires an effort to realise that Henry had to deal with a legacy of trouble from the earlier period, as well as with his own share of the difficulties of the new age. The previous storm had not yet passed away when the new cloud appeared on the horizon and the two broke in full fury upon the unfortunate house of Pole.
Margaret, Countess of Salisbury, the only living child of George, Duke of Clarence, was chief among the old aristocracy, who were now sometimes called the party of the White Rose. Katherine of Arragon had been warmly attached to the Countess and her family. The tender-hearted queen believed that Margaret’s brother was sacrificed in order to bring about her marriage with Prince Arthur. The Countess’ eldest son, Henry, Lord Montague, married Jane Neville, daughter to Lord Abergavenny, while her daughter Ursula became the wife of Lord Stafford, the Duke of Buckingham’s son. It was even whispered that higher honours awaited the Poles. The Countess became governess to the Princess Mary, and Queen Katherine would gladly have seen a marriage between her daughter and her friend’s son Reginald, who was a promising lad of sixteen when Mary was born in 1516. The family was closely connected by blood and friendship with Edward Courtenay, Marquis of Exeter, and his wife Gertrude. The Marquis was the son of Katherine, the youngest daughter of Edward IV, and therefore heir to the throne, after the Tudors: a very dangerous position[57].
Henry had learnt his lesson from his father too well to allow this state of things to continue. For the last hundred years the nobles had kept the kingdom in a turmoil. Northumberland, Warwick, the second Duke of Buckingham, had in turn made and unmade kings at their pleasure; now the day of reckoning had come. The two Henrys performed in England the work that Richelieu was to achieve in France a century later; they made the nobles realise at the cost of much bloodshed, that there was to be one king in the country, not half-a-dozen. No one can deny that they triumphed only by means of cruelty and injustice, and that their motives were selfish. But when it is considered how greatly the nation benefited, and when the fate of countries like Poland where the work was never carried out is remembered, it seems ungrateful to abuse the kings who did so much for their country at the cost of their reputation.
Buckingham was executed in 1521 and his son was ruined[58]; Montague and Abergavenny were thrown into prison[59] and made to pay heavy fines. The reason was simply that they were powerful enough to be dangerous, and Henry was powerful enough to crush them.
So far the King had acted from the old motives and guarded against the old dangers; with the divorce of Katherine new factors came into play. The Pole family was devoted to the Queen, and would in any case have opposed the divorce. In addition to this motive the Countess was a very devout woman and had brought up her sons to be pillars of the Church[60]. In 1532 Reginald Pole with some difficulty obtained leave to go abroad, to escape acquiescence in the divorce.
Reginald Pole was a man of quiet, amiable and studious disposition. He had been educated at the King’s expense, and was genuinely fond of his patron. There seems to be little doubt that if he had been left alone he would have been content to live peacefully in Italy with his friends and his studies. There he could have deplored the misfortunes of his country without attempting to remedy them by any more dangerous means than the vague, ineffectual plots at which legitimists always excel. But he was shaken out of his tranquillity by Henry himself. Early in 1535 Starkey, the King’s chaplain, who was a friend of Pole’s, sent him a royal command to state in writing his opinion on the royal title of Supreme Head of the Church of England. Henry wished to force Pole to take up a definite position. If he was friendly he might be useful; if hostile, he was dangerous, and the King was determined to know how to regard him. Pole was at first reluctant to undertake the task, but once he embarked on it he worked hard, and indulged to the full in the dangerous satisfaction of giving the King a piece of his mind. The book “De Unitate Ecclesiastica” was finished by the end of the year, but it was not despatched until Pole received the news of Anne Boleyn’s fall. Then, imagining, that the King might now be induced to change his policy, he sent it to England, at the end of May 1536, by the hands of his trusted servant Michael Throgmorton. It was, as its name implies, a vigorous defence of the one and indivisible Catholic Church under one supreme head, the Pope. The language of the book does not exceed the bounds of controversy as then observed; though, considering the King’s figure, the comparison between Henry and an unclean barrel was rather tactless. But Pole stated with perfect frankness his very strong disapproval of the King’s proceedings. From that time forth there was no hope that Henry would ever be reconciled to his kinsman[61].
The interest of the book to a modern reader lies in its revelation of Pole’s point of view. He had an essentially medieval mind; throughout his writings he assumes the political ideal of the middle ages, which pictured the Pope and the Emperor as the spiritual and secular heads of Europe. If any lesser king withdrew his allegiance from the Pope it was the Emperor’s duty to make him return to the fold. Hence it was the obvious duty of Charles V to reduce Henry to obedience. It never seems to have occurred to Pole that any life which there might once have been in this theory was now extinguished, and that the condition of affairs in medieval Europe had passed away for ever. After Katherine’s death Charles had no more justification for invading England simply because he disapproved of the English government than England had for invading France because she disapproved of Napoleon. Besides, what with Francis I, the Turks and the German Reformers, Charles had so many embarrassments that it was in the highest degree improbable he would ever be free to attempt the subjugation of England. But Pole was blind to all this, and he and his English friends continued to put their trust in foreign princes with disastrous consequences to themselves.
Pole had written his book at the King’s express request, stating his opinions quite honestly; he believed his country was going to perdition, and that a patriot’s only hope lay in force. From the point of view of the English government the book was certainly treasonable. It clearly and expressly urged all Englishmen to take up arms against the King, and exhorted two foreign princes to invade the country and help the rebels. Pole, however, was very careful that the manuscript should not be copied or printed, and its contents were only known to three or four of his friends[62]. It is unnecessary to describe the King’s anger on receiving the book, or the letters of remonstrance which he forced the Countess of Salisbury and Lord Montague to write to the offending author. He himself dissembled his anger, and summoned Pole to return home and there confer with wise men on the subject, about which he was misinformed. Pole was too prudent to accept this royal invitation[63].
The policy of the White Rose party is embodied in “De Unitate.” The plan at the root of all their scheming was that Charles V should invade England, marry Mary to Reginald Pole[64], force Henry to acknowledge Katherine, and establish a sort of regency, leaving Henry only the title of King. There were two serious flaws in this scheme. First, the conspirators overlooked the fact that an invasion was sure to cause a violent reaction in favour of Henry, who was at least an Englishman: they were, indeed, hopelessly out of touch with the feeling of the nation at large. Secondly, nothing was more unlikely than that Charles would consent to a marriage between Mary and Pole, for he regarded her as his property and would be sure, if he had the opportunity, to bestow her hand on some dependant of his own. Ruling, as he did, over so many different countries, he could not realise how strong national feeling was in such an isolated kingdom as England, and how desirable therefore an English husband would be for Mary, if she was ever to become Queen.
Thus the White Rose party was following quite the wrong path, intent on will-o’-the-wisp hopes of the Emperor’s help when they should have turned to the mass of the nation for assistance. After Katherine’s death the prospect that Charles would interfere in English politics was very distant. King Henry did not “wear yellow for mourning” for nothing[65]. But Exeter and the Poles looked only to the Emperor, and while they did this Henry had little to fear from them. Other members of the party saw their mistake after a while. First among these was Lord Darcy.
Thomas, Lord Darcy, was the son of Sir William Darcy by his wife Euphemia, daughter to Sir John Langton[66]. On his father’s death (1488) he came into the lands in Lincolnshire which had belonged to the Darcys since Doomsday Book was compiled, and also those lands in Yorkshire, including the family seat of Templehurst, which had come to the family by marriage in the reign of Edward III. He was already over twenty-one and had probably married Dousabella[67], daughter to Sir Richard Tempest of the Dale, who was the mother of his four sons, George, Richard, William and Arthur. Darcy was raised to the peerage in 1505. In the same year he was made steward of the lands of the young Earl of Westmorland. This young man became Earl in 1523. The Earl’s character has left few traces upon history. Norfolk described him as “of such heat and hastiness of nature as to be unmeet” to hold the office of Warden of the Marches[68]. He was connected with the White Rose party by his marriage with Katherine, daughter to the unfortunate Duke of Buckingham. His mother was Edith, sister to William, Lord Sandes.
Darcy’s great influence in the north was in part owing to this connection with the Nevilles which was strengthened by his second marriage, to Lady Neville, the young Earl’s mother. Darcy held various offices of trust on the Borders during the reign of Henry VII. The King kept a watchful eye on his powerful servant, and in 1496 he was indicted at Quarter Sessions in the West Riding for giving various people his badge, “a token or livery called the Buck’s Head.” However, Henry by his well-known system of compensation created him Deputy Warden of the East and Middle Marches (16 Dec., 1498) and later Warden of the East Marches (1 Sept., 1505). On the accession of Henry VIII his offices were confirmed to him[69].
Early in the new reign occurred the strangest adventure of Darcy’s life—his expedition to Spain. Ferdinand had asked his son-in-law for the aid of 1500 English archers in his war against the Moors. Darcy at his own request was appointed leader of this force. The troops were mustered on 29 March, 1511. The expedition, consisting of five companies of 250 men each, sailed from Plymouth in May and arrived at Cadiz on 1 June. There was in Darcy something of the spirit of his crusading ancestors; but the time for a crusade had passed. The English were unruly and quarrelled with the Spaniards so much that Ferdinand was only too glad to seize the excuse of a truce with the Moors to pack them off home again. They were in Spain little more than a fortnight, and on 17 June reembarked without having loosed a shaft against the enemy. Darcy was bitterly disappointed and to add to his troubles the voyage home was long and stormy: on 3 August they had only reached St Vincent and he was obliged to spend large sums on victualling the ships and paying his men. His life-long friend, Sir Robert Constable, was one of the five captains under him who shared the humiliation and expense of it all. Such an experience might have made him shun all further dealings with Spain, but on his return to England the Spanish ambassador dealt liberally with him in the matter of money and overcame his resentment. The archers who went out to fight for a Christian prince against the Moors wore as their badge a curious device called the “Five Wounds of Christ.”[70]
Darcy took no part in the war with Scotland in 1513. He was not on the glorious field of Flodden, where the future Duke of Norfolk, then Lord Admiral, won such fame that for long years he was beloved through all the north. Darcy had gone with the King to France, where at the siege of Terouanne some accident caused the rupture from which he suffered for the rest of his life. He returned to the strenuous work of governing the Borders, of which more will be said hereafter. During the period of Cardinal Wolsey’s power, Darcy was on good terms with him; but in July 1529 he drew up an indictment of the falling favourite. This, in the form of articles, was signed by the Peers in Parliament, on 1 Dec. of the same year. Exactly how much discredit attaches to him for thus acting against a man for whom he had long professed friendship, must be decided by others. The case against Darcy is made rather worse by the fact that he was at first ready to forward the divorce of Katherine of Arragon. He signed the Memorial of the Lords to Clement VII, and even appeared as a witness at the Queen’s trial, although he had no evidence of any importance to give. On the other hand, he must have disapproved of Wolsey’s policy for some time, and the tie between the two men never seems to have been very close. Like others he was slow to realise the lengths to which Henry was prepared to go in order to get what he wanted. He did not foresee that Wolsey’s policy might lead to a policy of still more daring innovation. But when the situation was plain to him he fully declared himself. In January 1532 Norfolk made an appeal to a private meeting of persons of importance to defend the Royal Prerogative against foreign interference, with the suggestion that matrimonial causes, i.e. the divorce of Katherine, ought to be considered a matter of temporal jurisdiction. Darcy answered. In his speech he maintained that such causes were undoubtedly spiritual, and therefore the Pope was the supreme judge in them. He further insinuated that the King’s Council were trying to escape the responsibility of deciding on a course of action by dragging others into the matter[71]. He also addressed the Lords on the fitness of parliament to deal with matters touching the Faith, but the date and purport of this declaration are uncertain[72]. The result of his boldness was that he was informed that his presence was not required at the succeeding sessions[73] of the parliament.
Nevertheless he was not allowed to return to the north, but was kept in London, much against his will, from the winter of 1529[74] till at least as late as July 1535. The King would have been well advised to remember the proverb about idle hands. Darcy, the statesman and warrior, was kept some five years with nothing to do but brood over the changes which were taking place around him, and over the violation of his deepest and most honourable feelings. Cromwell and the King might have foreseen the result. Darcy had a strong sentiment of personal loyalty to the King; he could not bear it to be thought that “Old Tom had one traitor’s tooth in his head.” But as an honest man and a good Christian he felt he could not stand by and see the Queen and her daughter dishonoured, the Church destroyed, and the land brought under an absolute despotism, without making an effort to save them. The doctrine of the responsibility of the minister salved his conscience; it was easy to believe that if only Cromwell could be removed, Henry would turn back from the strange and dangerous road along which he was being led.
Darcy was on intimate terms with Lord Hussey, a member of one of the new official families which sprang up so plentifully under the Tudors. Sir William Hussey, father to John, Lord Hussey, was Lord Chief Justice of the King’s Bench in 17 Edward IV[75]; his parents are unknown. John Hussey assisted in putting down Lovell’s Rebellion in 1486, and obtained a footing at Court. He was partner to the exactions of Empson and Dudley, and on the accession of Henry VIII was obliged to obtain a pardon, but he did not lose favour with the King. He received large grants of land in Lincolnshire, where his seat was at Sleaford[76]; there he was unpopular with his neighbours, who accused him of arrogance and ostentation[77]. He served in France in 1513, and was employed on diplomatic missions until in 1529 he was summoned to the House of Lords as Baron Hussey of Sleaford. Through the whole of his career he had been a loyal and unquestioning supporter of the government as it was. His promotion was probably due to the King’s desire to strengthen his party in the House of Lords. He did what was required of him; he signed the document requesting the Pope to sanction the divorce of Katherine, and gave evidence for the King at the Queen’s trial. But Darcy, who was really opposed to the divorce, had done as much as this. There is no doubt, however, that Henry believed Hussey to be a man whom he could safely trust, for in 1533 he was appointed chamberlain to the King’s daughter Mary, who had just been declared illegitimate[78]. It was to his tender care she was confided for the time of insult and desolation her father had in store for her. Unfortunately for Hussey a warm friendship sprang up between Mary and his wife Lady Anne, the daughter of George Grey, Earl of Kent[79]. Hussey himself, though fairly hard-hearted, seems to have been touched by the sufferings of his helpless charge. It must have been this sympathy which drew him into communication with the White Rose party.
About midsummer 1534 Darcy dined with Hussey at his London house, and his old friend Sir Robert Constable was there as well. They talked of a sermon preached by Sir Francis Bigod’s priest; Bigod was a young man of great lands in the north, who inclined to the New Learning; his father had been among Darcy’s friends. In the sermon under discussion the chaplain had “likened our Lady to a pudding when the meat was out.” Not unnaturally shocked by such an expression, they all declared they would be “none heretics” but die Christian men. There by Hussey’s account the matter ended; but in September of the same year he was in communication with the Imperial ambassador[80].
Hitherto one of the King’s most unfaltering supporters, Hussey at this time unquestionably indulged in treasonable practices. All the disaffected nobles carried on secret correspondence with Chapuys, and Hussey among the rest begged him to urge the Emperor to invade England[81], where everyone was ready to welcome him. Chapuys’ correspondence reveals the fact that the nobles, at least, were at that time thoroughly out of sympathy with the King’s policy. Sir Geoffrey Pole, the younger brother of Lord Montague and Reginald, was anxious to leave England, and offered to enter the Emperor’s service in Spain. He gave up the plan when Chapuys pointed out that he would leave his friends in the greatest danger; they were already regarded with enough suspicion[82].
Meanwhile Darcy was making every effort to obtain permission to quit the Court and go home[83]. But this was steadily refused. In July (1534) he was upon the jury of peers which acquitted Lord Dacre from a charge of high treason[84].
In September he was the most considerable of all the peers who were secretly urging on Charles V an invasion of England[85]. This is the most indefensible part of Darcy’s conduct. To attempt to change the policy of the government, even by force if no other way is possible, may be justifiable. But it was very different to invite a foreign prince to invade England, and it was a pity that Darcy was so much swayed by the prevailing policy of the White Rose party as to consent to the scheme. Doubtless the excuse he would have offered was the position of Katherine and Mary. They were helpless in the King’s hands. They were inconvenient to him, and people who inconvenienced Henry seldom lived long. A national rising would only add to the danger of their situation; but if Charles joined the rebels the Princesses would at worst be held as hostages while a sudden raid might snatch them from Henry’s grasp[86]. With this object Darcy requested Charles to send a small force to the mouth of the Thames, for Mary was at Greenwich. Katherine at Kimbolton was so much further from the Court that the rebels might hope to rescue her themselves. For the rest, the old lord only asked the Emperor to come to some understanding with the King of Scots, and to send to the North some money, which was very scarce there, and a small number of arquebus men[87]. Both he and Hussey believed the discontent to be so widespread that a national rising would soon effect all that was required without any further assistance from abroad. But Charles was too busy to send even this slight aid. He instructed his ambassador to hold out vague hopes to the White Rose party and to do nothing[88].
For some time this policy succeeded. There was much passing up and down of messages and tokens, and nothing at all was done. Darcy gave Chapuys “a gold pansy, well enamelled” during the autumn. The pansy was the badge of the Poles and was to prove a sign of doom to that unhappy house. At Christmas he presented him with a handsome sword, which Chapuys supposed to indicate indirectly that the times were ripe “pour jouer des couteaulx.” His brother-in-law, the brave Lord Sandes, sent expressions of sympathy; and even the Earl of Northumberland, who was believed to be the most loyal of the nobles, sent his physician to Chapuys to assure him that the King was on the brink of ruin[89]. But time wore on; winter drew to spring and spring to summer—the bloody spring and summer of the executions under the Supremacy Act[90]. The Carthusians fell, Sir Thomas More and the gentle Fisher. Still Darcy was detained in London. Nor was he suspected without good reason, for he had long since told Chapuys that once back in the north he would secretly prepare for a general rising. In May he sent an elderly relative of his[91] to the Imperial ambassador, whom the latter described quaintly as “of more virtue and zeal than appears externally.” This man proposed to go in person to the Emperor to discover whether he really meant to send help, for if he was only deluding the English they were determined to act for themselves. Chapuys warned him that he would bring Darcy into danger, but he replied that once his master was in the north he would not care a button for any suspicions[92].
Hussey, who was still trusted by the government, was at his house in Sleaford about midsummer 1535. A Yorkshire gentleman, Thomas Rycard, came to visit him. He found Hussey walking in his garden, and they talked about the spread of heresy in Yorkshire. Rycard said that as yet there was little of it, “except a few particular persons who carried in their bosoms certain books.” He prayed that the nobles might “put the King’s Grace in rememberance for reformation thereof.” Hussey answered that there was no hope of their suppression unless the two counties, Yorkshire and Lincolnshire acted together, and he himself thought it would be necessary to fight for the Faith[93].
In July (1535) Chapuys reported that he had seen Darcy’s cousin again, and that “the good old lord” (his by-name among the Imperialist party) was about to go home at last[94]. It appears from a letter to Cromwell, dated at Templehurst, that he was at home by 13 Nov. The year date is not given but it must have been 1535[95].
It is not necessary to describe the character of “Old Tom” at length, for it stands out from the records so vividly that more than any of his contemporaries he seems a living man; we learn to know his out-spokenness, his grim humour, his high sense of honour at a time when the very meaning of honour was almost forgotten. It was a very cruel fate which placed him in an age when it was impossible to live according to his motto, “One God, One King, One Faith.” From the day on which Darcy rode north there was something stirring in the land far more serious than any court intrigue, or any wild scheme of the Emperor’s interference.
To do the White Rose party justice they were less concerned with hopes of their own advancement than with anxiety for Katherine and Mary. On 6 Nov. 1535, Chapuys wrote to the Emperor: “The Marchioness of Exeter has sent to inform me that the King has lately said to some of his most confidential councillors that he would not longer remain in the trouble, fear and suspense he had so long endured on account of the Queen and the Princess, and that they should see at the coming Parliament, to get him released therefrom, swearing most obstinately that he would wait no longer. The Marchioness declares that this is as true as the Gospel, and begs me to inform your Majesty and pray you to have pity upon the ladies.”[96] A few days later he related the sequel: “The personage who informed me of what I wrote to your Majesty on the 6th about the Queen and Princess[97]—came yesterday to this city (London) in disguise to confirm what she had sent to me to say, and conjure me to warn your Majesty, and beg you most urgently to see a remedy. She added that the King, seeing some of those to whom he used this language shed tears, said that tears and wry faces were of no avail, because even if he lost his crown he would not forbear to carry his purpose into effect.”[98]
It is evident that Henry had purposely alarmed and distressed some of Katherine’s friends by threats of an outrage which even he could scarcely have ventured to commit. Was the Marquis of Exeter himself one of the councillors who wept? Someone must have told the Marchioness about the King’s threats of getting rid of the Queen and Princess, either her husband or another of the confidential councillors. And she herself, if not her informant, was deliberately communicating the “secrets of the realm of England” to a foreign power. If the King knew this he was quite justified in regarding the Courtenays with suspicion and expelling the Marquis from the Council. The Marchioness acted treasonably, though she did only what any good woman would have done under the circumstances. But Henry could not be expected to see that. Katherine soon gave her friends no more care, for she died in January 1536. In the same month Henry’s long parliament met for its last session, that in which the Act for the Suppression of the Lesser Monasteries was to be passed.
Lord Hussey begged to be excused attendance, pleading ill-health, but really, in all probability, because he knew it would be expected to pass acts against the Church. He came joyfully to the new parliament in June, assembled on the fall of Anne Boleyn. Mary was now safe and would probably be restored to the succession; and, on the fall of the late queen, it was universally hoped that a reaction would take place in ecclesiastical matters. Here Hussey’s inclination to treason seems to have ended, and his after connection with the rebellion appears to have been sheer bad luck. Or perhaps his wife, an ardent rebel, is to be blamed. She came up with him to London, and at Whitsuntide went to visit her former mistress, the Lady Mary, with whom she had exchanged tokens from time to time since they parted. While she was with the disowned princess on Whit Monday (5 June) she was overheard to call for a drink for “the Princess,” and on Tuesday she said “the Princess” had gone walking[99]. As Mary’s only legal title was “the Lady Mary,” Lady Hussey was arrested and sent to the Tower[100]. The charge must have been that “the Princess” meant the Princess of Wales; Mary never was created Princess of Wales, but the title was sometimes informally given to her before 1529. In England the daughters of Kings were not called “princesses” until later times. Chapuys, writing on the first of July, said that the real reason of her imprisonment was the King’s suspicion that she had encouraged Mary in her refusal to acknowledge the Acts of Supremacy and the Succession. When he heard that Mary had refused “he made the most strict inquiries, and the Chancellor and Cromwell visited certain ladies at their houses, who, with others, were called before the Council and compelled to swear to the statutes; one of them, the wife of her chamberlain (Lady Hussey), a lady of great house, and one of the most virtuous in England, was taken to the Tower, where she is at present.”[101]
The question naturally arises, how much did Lady Hussey know of all that was brewing in the North, and what did she tell Mary? But it can never be answered, though it is certain that whatever her husband’s views Lady Hussey was strongly in sympathy with the rebels. Mary’s refusal to subscribe to the Acts caused an immense sensation at Court. The King was furious and swore in a passion that she should suffer the extreme penalty. Exeter and Fitzwilliam were excluded from the Council, because they were suspected of sympathy for her. Even Cromwell was not safe, for since Anne’s fall he had been bidding for Mary’s goodwill, in anticipation of her return to Henry’s favour. Chapuys assured Mary that she was in immediate danger[102], and that any oath she took under the circumstances would not be binding. Much against her will she yielded to his entreaties, and signed the form her father sent her, without reading it. The result was an almost immediate return to her father’s favour and she consented to dissemble in future, whenever it was necessary[103]. Lady Hussey remained in the Tower throughout July, and her health suffered from the confinement[104]. On 3 August she was examined[105], and by the beginning of October she had been released and had gone home to Sleaford[106].
NOTES TO CHAPTER II
Note A. Although Pole was created a Cardinal in 1536, he was not ordained until 1556, after Mary’s marriage with Philip of Spain.
Note B. The Dictionary of National Biography makes Edith his first wife and Dousabella his second, but see Letters and Papers XII (2) Index under Darcy, Dousabella and Edith.
Note C. He was possibly Dr Marmaduke Walby, a prebendary of Carlisle, who was closely connected with Sir Robert Constable. After the rebellion had broken out, Darcy proposed to send Walby to the Netherlands for help, because he knew the Imperial ambassador[107]. From this it seems probable that Walby had communicated with the ambassador on the present occasion.
Note D. The cautious language is characteristic of the Chapuys correspondence. The ambassador never mentioned a name when a substitute was to be had. “He of whom I told you” is a very common phrase; Darcy is almost invariably “the good old lord.” This may show that Chapuys feared his letters might fall into the wrong hands, or it may be merely a diplomatic habit. Letters of such vital importance must have been sent by the most reliable messengers, but there was always a risk of miscarriage. Yet if they were discovered it does not seem likely that the thin veil of anonymity could have saved those who were compromised.