It is difficult for us to conceive a world in which news spreads mainly by word of mouth.  Morning and evening it is poured forth to us, by many different agencies, in the daily press; and though many of these succumb to the temptation to be sensational, among the better sort there is a healthy rivalry which restrains exuberance and promotes accuracy.  There is safety, too, in numbers.  News which appears in one paper only, is looked at doubtfully until it is confirmed by the rest; but even unanimity amongst all papers will scarcely at first win acceptance for what is at all startling and out of the common, until time and the absence of contradiction may perhaps corroborate.  In practice men of credit have learnt not to see the sea-serpent.  For a picture of conditions in the sixteenth century we must sweep all the newspapers away.  Kings had their heralds and towns their public messengers who took and of course brought back news.  Caravans of merchants travelled along the great trade-routes; and their tongues and ears were not idle.  Private persons, too, sent their servants on journeys to carry letters.  But even so news had to travel by word of mouth; for even when letters were sent, we may be sure that any public news of importance beneath the seals and wafers had reached the bearers also.

But for what they told confirmation was not to be had for the asking.  Not till chance brought further messengers was it possible to establish or contradict, and till then the first news held the field.  Rumour stalked gigantic over the earth, often spreading falsehood and capturing belief, rarely, as in Indian bazars to-day, with mysterious swiftness forestalling the truth.  In such a world caution seems the prime necessity; but men grow tired of caution when events are moving fast and the air is full of ‘flying tales’.  The general tendency was for them, if not to believe, at any rate to pass on, unverified reports, from the impossibility of reaching certainty.  In such a world of bewilderment, sobriety of judgement does not thrive.

Two examples may show the difficulty of learning the truth.  In 1477 Charles the Bold was killed at Nancy.  That great Duke of Burgundy was not a person to be hidden under a bed.  Yet nearly six years later reports were current that he had escaped from the battle and was in concealment.  Again, Erasmus, during his residence at Bologna in 1507, made many friends.  One of these was Paul Bombasius, a native of that town, who became secretary to Cardinal Pucci, and lost his life at Rome in May 1527, when the city was sacked by Charles V’s troops; another was the delightful John de Pins, afterwards diplomatist and Bishop of Rieux.  To him in 1532 Erasmus wrote asking for news of Bombasius.  The Bishop replied that he had heard a rumour of his death, but hoped it was not true.  Not till May 1535 could Erasmus report the result of inquiries made through a friend visiting Bologna, that Bombasius had fallen a victim to the Bourbon soldiery eight years before.