simultaneously to rush upon the coach as it passed a cross road, one from each side; Rookwood was to come from his hiding-place in the rear, and Barclay to appear in front, and to him the death of the king was assigned. Horses and arms were purchased by Barclay for the occasion, and the horses were kept in different stables, so as to excite no suspicion.
All was now in readiness. The duke of Berwick had remained in London till matters were in this position. He had been equally busy in endeavouring to induce the Jacobite leaders to rise in arms. He told them that his father, with ten thousand soldiers, was lying at Calais ready to cross when this movement was made, but that the king of France would not consent to the army crossing till the English had given proof of their being in earnest to receive king James in arms. Nor could they think this unreasonable; he had twice sent expeditions to co-operate with them, once in 1690, when De Tourville landed in Devonshire, and again in 1692, when his fleet had come up to our very shores in expectation of being joined by the English fleet, but, on the contrary, had been attacked by that fleet, and the losses at La Hogue suffered in consequence. They could not expect Louis to venture his ships and troops again till he saw a real demonstration for James in England; then his army would cross at once. But these representations were all lost on the Jacobites; they continued to say, Only let James land with an army, and they were ready to join him. Berwick returned to France, and hastened to inform James, whom he met on the way to Calais to join the invading army, that there was no chance of a rising in England till a French army landed, but that he had a confident hope that the conspirators would succeed in dispatching William, and then would be the time to cross over. James went on to Calais to the army which Boufflers was called from Flanders to command, and Berwick went on to Versailles to communicate to Louis the state of affairs, and all parties waited for the falling of the blow in England.
Such was now the position of these two monarchs and the duke of Berwick, whom the Jacobite writers have so confidently endeavoured to clear of the crime of participating in this base scheme of assassination. True, Berwick whilst in England would have nothing to do with the conspiracy itself, because, he declared, it was—not criminal, no, that was not his objection—but it was too dangerous, and would probably cause all engaged in it to be hanged. On the safe side of the water, therefore, whilst the humbler ruffians were risking their necks for them, these three arch-assassins waited for the signal that the deed was done—a fire which was to be lit on one of the Kentish hills.
Meantime the conspiracy was suffering, as might have been expected, from the admission of too many colleagues. As the time approached, Fisher, who had boasted that he would himself kill one of the king's coach-horses, went and informed Portland that there was a design of taking the king's life. Portland at first paid little attention to this information, but it was soon confirmed in a manner which left him no alternative but to apprise the king of it. On the evening of the 14th a Mr. Pendergrast, a catholic gentleman of Hampshire, waited on Portland and assured him that if the king went on the morrow to hunt he was certain to be assassinated. Pendergrast said the king was the enemy of his religion, but that his religion would not permit him to see such a thing done without giving him a warning, and he entreated Portland to induce the king not to go out on any account. When pressed to name his accomplices, he declined, saying they were his friends, and one of them his benefactor; he would not betray them.
The fact was, that Porter had sent for Pendergrast up from the country to take part in the assassination; but, though he was under great obligations to Porter, he refused. He would have been ready to unite in an invasion, but not in a murder.
The king was with difficulty prevented by Portland from going, but he did stay; and when it was announced to the conspirators that the king had given up hunting for that day, they were a good deal startled; but, as the weather was assigned as the cause, they imagined they were still unbetrayed, and waited for the next Saturday, one of them, Chambers, a great ruffian, who had been severely wounded at the battle of the Boyne, and had a savage malice against William, vowing to have his life yet or lose his own.
Betwixt this day and the next Saturday, however, De la Rue had grown afraid, and went and gave a warning similar to Pendergrast's. On the Friday Pendergrast was sent for to the king's closet, where William was alone with Portland and lord Cutts, who had fought so bravely at Namur. William was very courteous to Pendergrast, and thanked him for his information, complimented him as a man of honour, but desired him to name the conspirators. Pendergrast persisted in his refusal, except he had the king's assurance that his information should not operate the destruction of these men, but only be used to prevent the commission of the crime. This assurance being solemnly given, he named them. It does not, however, appear that this solemn assurance was kept, for undoubtedly Pendergrast's information was used for the arrest of the conspirators, and though he himself was not brought openly forward in court against them, they were condemned and executed through that means, so that not using his evidence openly was a mere quibble: and even this was laid aside as soon as, at Pendergrast's demand, they had engaged to use Porter's evidence on condition of his safety.
Ignorant of the mine ready charged under their feet, the conspirators anxiously awaited Saturday the 22nd. This time all outwardly bade fair for success; all the usual preparations were made at the palace for the hunting. There had been during the week no sign of any agitation or bustle, or word shipped out which could give the slightest suspicion that their design was known. The guards were sent off to go round by Kingston Bridge to Richmond, as there was then no bridge nearer. The king's coach came out to take him away, and the conspirators were breakfasting at Porter's lodgings in high glee, when Keyes came hurrying in to spy that the coach had been sent back to the stables, and the guards had come galloping back, saying that a discovery of something terrible had been made. If the men had not been infatuated by their zeal for the assassination, as is very general in such cases, they would now have made the best of their way into some place of security. The return of the guards in such hurry, and with such rash words, was not
