It is pleasant to picture the impotent rage of George Rex when he heard of this second defiance of his kingly authority; he declared that Lady Nithsdale did whatever she pleased in spite of him, and that she had given him more trouble than any other woman in the whole of Europe. Lady Nithsdale joined her husband in Rome, where they lived many years together, he dying in 1749, and his devoted wife following him to the grave soon afterwards. She rests in the beautiful Fitzalan Chapel, near Arundel Castle. One hopes that the faithful Welsh maid, Evans, was with them till the end. According to Lord de Ros, Lady Nithsdale’s portrait, painted by Godfrey Kneller, still hangs in her Scottish home. “Her hair,” he says, “is bright brown, slightly powdered; with large soft eyes, regular features, and a fair complexion. Her soft expression and delicate appearance give little indication of the strength of mind and courage she displayed. Her dress is blue silk, with a border of cambric, and over it a cloak of brown silk.” Another of the Jacobite lords, Wintoun, also escaped from the Tower. Little is known regarding the manner in which he broke his prison and thus cheated the headsman, but it is supposed that he managed to saw through the bars of his window, having previously bribed his gaoler to let him be free and undisturbed in his work of filing the iron. In his case there were no romantic details, or, if there were any, they have not come down to us. Of Lord Wintoun’s escape, Lord de Ros writes: “Being well seconded by friends of the cause in London, he was conveyed safely to the Continent.” Another large batch of prisoners who were suspected of being Jacobites came into the Tower in the year 1722, the most notable of them being Francis Atterbury, Bishop of Rochester, Thomas, Duke of Norfolk, Lords North, Orrery, and Grey, Thomas Layer Corkran, Christopher Layer, and an Irish clergyman named Kelly. Of these, the last was the only one executed on the charge of high treason. The plot in which these persons of varying degrees were accused of being implicated, was to seize the Tower, and raise a rebellion in favour of the Chevalier, an idea which goes to show that the old fortress was even as late as the days of our first Hanoverian sovereign regarded as an essential to the assumption of the supreme power in the country. Atterbury was attainted and banished, after undergoing a strict imprisonment, which he endured with much patience from the 24th of August 1722, until the 18th of January in the following year. “How pleasing Atterbury’s softer hour; How shines his soul unconquered in the Tower,” as Pope has sung it. Atterbury never returned to England, dying after eight years of exile in France.