Consternation was not expressed in debate alone. Gallant members were in alarm as well for themselves as for their sovereign. Sir Edward Rich informed the Lords’ committee of an apprehension he had for some time felt that both houses of Parliament were to be blown up. A beggar at the Great Door was arrested on suspicion that he was an Irish earl’s son. Great knocking had been heard underground in the night hours. Sir John Cotton, who owned a cellar beneath the Painted Chamber, was requested to have his coals and faggots removed from so dangerous a spot, and the Duke of Monmouth generously lent guards to stand watch until a strict examination could be made. Accompanied by the Masters of the Ordnance and an expert builder. Sir Christopher Wren and Sir Jonas Moore conducted the inspection. They reported the lower structure of the house to be in an extremely dangerous state. The walls were mostly seven feet thick and contained many secret places. Vaults ran all the way from the Thames under Westminster Hall. By the help of neighbours who owned the cellars any one could introduce a store of gunpowder within four and twenty hours. Without a guard their lordships could have no security. Orders were given for the adjoining houses and vaults to be cleared, for the cellars to be opened one into another, and sentinels to patrol them night and day under command of a trusty officer. It was even doubted whether Parliament had not better remove to Northumberland House. Still as neither knocking nor the beggar were seen to produce ill effects, nothing further was done, and Sir Edward Rich found himself derided as a lunatic.[314] Beyond Westminster the terror ran no less high. A report came to town that St. John’s College, Cambridge, had been burnt down and three priests taken with fireballs in their possession. The new prison at Clerkenwell was fired and some priests immured there hailed as the obvious incendiaries. Somerset House was searched by Lord Ossory, who was promptly said to have found a hundred thousand fireballs and hand-grenades, A poor Venetian soapmaker was thrown into prison on the charge of manufacturing similar infernal machines; but on examination his wares turned out to be merely balls of scent. Dread of fire seemed to have touched the limit when Sir William Jones sent an express from Hampstead with orders to move his store of firewood from the front to the back cellar of his house in London that it might be less near the malign hands of Jesuits. And from Flanders came the disquieting rumour that if, as was expected, the Catholics in England were destroyed in the turmoil, the burghers of Bruges had prepared the same fate for English Protestants in their town.[315]