With Gilbert, I am happy to say, there were few such silences. He was a loyal and patriotic Catholic, truly horrified when shown evidence that Morgan and his friends were plotting to murder our lawful queen and impose foreign rule. He had agreed to become Morgan’s clandestine courier and had learned the art of secret writing in order, he believed, to keep the flame of Catholicism alight for the day when England should return gratefully to the old faith. But he was no assassin. Also, he was a young man of gentle upbringing still reeling from the shock of arrest, despite his kind treatment. The promise of freedom in return for doing exactly what Morgan had sent him to do, with the sole addition that he should share knowledge of it with us, weighed heavily with him. Yet he hesitated. He sympathised, he said, but was finding it difficult to agree. It was a big step.
With many agents the offer of money would have shortened the step and I expected Mr Secretary to broach this delicate but usually welcome subject. ‘Is it a problem of conscience, Mr Gifford?’ he asked.
Gilbert looked from one to the other of us. ‘It is, sir, but not because I disagree with your moral reasoning.’
There was another silence. Then Mr Secretary, speaking quietly, said, ‘Your father, perhaps?’
Gilbert’s fresh face opened with relief. ‘Yes, sir, my father as you must know suffers for his Catholic beliefs. He suffers in his person, too.’
‘Aye, and in his purse.’ Mr Secretary nodded. ‘He has been fined and gaoled for propagating the Pope’s cause. And he languishes in prison now, unwell, I hear.’
‘He is indeed very sick, sir. I wanted to visit him only Thomas Morgan forbade me because it would draw attention to my presence here.’
I expected Mr Secretary to offer to arrange a discreet visit but he went farther. ‘Such filial concern speaks well of you, sir. Would you like me to enquire whether the Privy Council might order his release so that he could take the waters for his health and even perhaps return to his house in Staffordshire? On condition, of course, that he worships only in private and neither practises nor propagates the Pope’s cause in public?’
Gilbert nodded vigorously. ‘I would, sir, and I should be most grateful.’
‘It shall be done. Thomas, take note. Now let us discuss the arrangements Thomas Morgan made with you.’
And so it was that Thomas Morgan’s most secret courier of messages between himself and the Queen of Scots became our man before a single message was passed. Morgan had instructed Gilbert to call on the French ambassador in London and collect the earlier messages to the Queen he was safeguarding there until there was a secure way to deliver them. Gilbert himself was then to find a way to get them to her in Chartley, Staffordshire, where she was held. Then he was to secretly convey her replies to the ambassador in London. We knew from other sources that although some letters had got through the ambassador was sitting on a great many and was waiting for someone to make contact.
‘Morgan gave me no idea how to get them to the Queen,’ Gilbert told Mr Secretary. ‘I have to find a way myself, which will not be easy.’
‘Chartley is in Staffordshire. If your father returns to his Staffordshire house you will have reason to visit the county. Getting messages in and out of the house at Chartley without anyone knowing is something we shall devise together. Meanwhile, it is important that you are known to be a free man. Morgan will have spies in Rye, as in other ports, and may already know of your arrest. Searchers at ports are easily bought, alas. I shall arrange it so that he hears that you were taken to London and briefly confined, along with other travellers recently arrested, because we suspected that priests were being smuggled in. But you convinced us of your innocence and you were released, along with others. Under no circumstances – ever – should Morgan or anyone else know that you have met me.’
And so it was done. Morgan heard of Gilbert’s release from that other loyal and useful Catholic gentleman, Robert Poley. When in Paris Poley moved in émigré circles and had contrived an introduction to Morgan. Typically, he so endeared himself that Morgan recruited him. Except that Poley’s role was not to convey messages like Gilbert but to help coordinate a group of Catholic gentlemen in England who planned to put Mary on the throne. That group was, of course, young Master Babington and his friends, led by Father Ballard. But that was not the only way the ever-helpful Poley made himself useful to Morgan. He had good contacts in Scotland and knew discreet ways to them. Morgan planned to call on Scottish aid against the English in the event of civil war. Thus were we kept informed of Morgan’s Scottish plans and contacts. But His Majesty must surely know all this?
Well, sir, that was not all. Morgan had a spy in the household of Sir Philip Sidney, then the most admired and influential soldier and courtier, husband of Mr Secretary’s beloved only daughter, Lady Frances. We did not know about this spy until Morgan told Poley about him because he wanted the spy to introduce Poley into the household. His plan was that Poley would report what the well-informed Sir Philip would say privately about Privy Council matters. With the blessing of Sir Philip and Lady Frances, the spy was allowed to remain in place until he had introduced Poley. What Poley then reported back to Morgan was, of course, only what Mr Secretary wanted Morgan to believe.
And so by God’s grace, by luck and by our own calculation, we had in Nicholas Berden, Gilbert Gifford and Robert Poley three men who not only knew our enemy’s intimate thoughts but could influence and guide
