Between the nobles of the Court and the husbandmen in the fields stood that great and influential class “the gentlemen.” On it the Tudor government in the main depended. The gentlemen had no more sympathy with the out-of-date dynastic dreams of the White Rose party than with the economic grievances of the commons, but they had their own grudges against the government. They were hard-worked, and gained little thanks, as Henry went on the truly royal principle that it was honour enough to be allowed to serve him. They were worried by clumsy legislation, such as the Statute of Uses; they were angry at the interference with the House of Commons; and their better nature was outraged by the suppression of the monasteries founded by their ancestors, of which they were themselves the pupils and patrons. But the guiding principle of the country gentlemen was their devotion to landed property. They hated rebellion, because, sooner or later, it was followed by confiscation of property. They feared a rising of the lower classes because it endangered their property, even when it was not originally directed against themselves. The German peasants in 1524–5 had risen against the monasteries and the Church; but out of that movement had developed a bloody civil war between the rich and the poor. If fear of loss deterred the English gentlemen from opposing the government, no less did hope of gain. When they realised that the dissolution of the monasteries meant a general scramble for more property, most of them forgot their religious scruples; but this realisation did not come all at once. So much can safely be said, but there is very little evidence as to the discontent among the gentlemen. It is possible to discover the attitude of the discontented nobles from the letters of Chapuys, which often give us a delightful feeling of eavesdropping across four centuries. Nor is there any doubt as to the feelings of the commons—scores of informers bear witness to their disaffection. But there is no key to the confidence of the gentlemen. They were more cautious than the labourers, less easily watched than the nobles. Their private opinions were known only to their friends, who would not, of course, inform against them. In the few cases (all after the rising) when gentleman did inform against gentleman, there was generally a feud of some standing between them. We are reduced to arguing backward, as Henry did. The gentlemen, especially in Yorkshire, were the leaders of the Pilgrimage of Grace. We cannot really accept their own subsequent explanation that they acted against their will in fear of their own tenants. There is abundant evidence that risings of the commons alone were very easily put down. In this chapter we attempt to sketch the histories of half-a-dozen northern families of gentle or noble blood, in order to give some idea of the state of the north at the time and to outline the lives and antecedents of the leaders of the rebellion.