In London Traquair did nothing. He never wrote to the party in Scotland, and he brought back nothing but the names of the English leaders, the Duke of Beaufort, Lord Orrery, Lord Barrymore, Sir John Hinde Cotton, and Sir Watkin Williams Wynne. When Murray, in turning informer, divulged these names, except that of Beaufort, he told Government nothing which every man who cared did not know. But the English were thrown ‘into a mortal fright,’ as Balhaldie found so late as 1749. They were always in a mortal fright, always insisted that their Scottish allies should not even know who they were. Thus concerted movements were made impossible. Murray was dashed by the discovery that the English party was a mere set of five or six _nominum umbræ_. Doubtless there were plenty of Squire Westerns, who were ready to drink healths. Were our glasses turned into swords, Or our actions half as great as our words, Were our enemies turned to quarts, How nobly we should play our parts. The least that we would do, each man should kill his two, Without the help of France or Spain, The Whigs should run a tilt, and their dearest blood be spilt, And the King should enjoy his own again![36] There may have been more serious intentions. In a Devonshire house I saw, once, a fine portrait of James III., and learned that the great-grandfather of the owner had burned compromising papers. Such papers of English Jacobites, if any existed, seem always to have been destroyed. Traquair had done nothing; from Barrymore he got a promise of 10,000_l._, from the rich Welsh baronet he got only excuses. Lovat, according to Murray, said, in the Tower, that Beaufort had promised to raise 12,000 men, ‘whereby he exposed before the warders a nobleman to the resentment of Government whom I had been at great pains to represent ... as no ways privy to or concerned in our scheme.’