"Don't talk, you are a citizen, you know
that there are no arms;" but the man still
insisted that there were at least five hundred
muskets ready. During the Atterbury trial
it also came out that Lord Ormond, "the
soldiers' darling," was expected over from
Spain, where he was in exile, with some Irish
officers, to lead the insurrection. Indeed,
the ship Phineas, of Bristol, actually sailed
in March, 1722, with arms and powder to
Bilboa, to fetch the duke; but Colonel
Stanhope, the English ambassador at Madrid,
hearing of the plot, had an embargo laid on
the vessel. A paper stolen by a government
spy from the escritoire of a Jacobite
nobleman, also proved the following
additional arrangements of the conspirators.

The fire-arms concealed in London were
to be distributed in Southwark, Whitechapel,
Wapping, Holborn, and Smithfield;
barricades against cavalry were to be
thrown up in all the narrow streets, especially
at both ends of Fleet Bridge, Shoe-lane,
Fetter-lane, Chancery-lane, and the
Strand, by St. Clement's Church: the
churchyard of which was to be occupied
by Jacobites from Holborn. The two first
stories of houses were to be lined by
men, while women were to throw bricks
and stones from the upper windows.
Lighters, containing ammunition hidden
under coals, were to be moored ready at
Blackfriars and Milford-lane. All communication
with Westminster, except by
water, was to be cut off. Three Jacobite
lords would convey a message to the Lord
Mayor. Twenty-three officers of the Guards
were relied on. Forty determined persons,
armed with swords and pistols, were to
execute all orders, and these gentlemen
were to be promised seven shillings a day
for man and horse. Layer was to raise
twenty thousand pounds by the Pretender's
blank receipts.

Andrew Pancier, who had been captain-
lieutenant of Lord Cobham's dragoons,
confessed that sixteen Spanish men-of-war
were to have brought over six or eight
battalions of Irish foot, drilled and officered, from
the coast of Galicia, and landed them either
in Cornwall or at Bristol. Forty thousand
stand of arms had been provided in various
parts of Great Britain; and seven or eight
hundred soldiers and officers were ready in
London. Two hundred thousand pounds
had been intrusted to Atterbury, Bishop
of Rochester, and the Pretender was to
have been ready to embark at Porto
Longone. The Jacobites had calculated that
the government had only fourteen thousand
men to meet them—three thousand of these
would be wanted to guard London, three
thousand for Scotland, and two thousand
for the garrisons. The original design
had been to take advantage of the king's
departure for Hanover, and, in the words
of one of the conspirators, the Jacobites
were fully convinced that "they should
walk King George out before Lady-day."

Among the papers of Plunkett was found
the rough draft of a letter, apparently
written by Plunkett to the Pretender, to
announce Layer's approaching visit. It
was worded thus:

"There is one set out from Norfolk in a
few days to let you know the Tanners
(Tories) will stand by you on occasion.
He carries the list with him. Wag and
Tanner will equally concur. Our message
will pin the basket. You may have daily
messages of this kind—you will be courted,
it is the English way." And in another
letter there was this expression: "If two
or three are taken off, no matter how, King
George will go off by hook or by crook."

The Jacobite of Southampton-buildings
was arraigned for high treason at the King's
Bench, October 21, 1722. When the
indictment had been read, the prisoner
addressed the Lord Chief Justice, Sir John
Pratt, and said:

"If your lordship will please and indulge
me. My lord, I am brought here in chains:
in fetters and in chains. My lord, I have
been used more like an Algerine captive
than a free-born Englishman. I have
been dragged through the streets by the
hands of the jailer, and have been made
a show and spectacle of. I am now in
a court of justice, before your lordship,
and hope the time will come when I shall
have a candid and fair trial, and not be
made a sacrifice to the rage and fury of
any party or the necessity of the times.
My lord, I have been insulted since I came
into the hall: a gentleman came and told
me, 'Either you must die or the plot must
die.' My lord, this is usage insufferable in
a Christian nation, and I think I can lay
my hand on my heart and say I have done
nothing against my conscience."

Mr. Hungerford, the prisoner's counsel,
said the chains were so painful to the
prisoner in the Tower that he could sleep only
in one posture, namely, on his back; and that
even now, but for the humanity of the gentleman
jailer, who held up the chains, the prisoner
could not stand upright with them.

The Attorney-General, Sir Robert Raymond,
said the prisoner could not complain
of hard usage, as he had attempted to effect
an escape.