About An Attempt to Steal the Regalia of Charles II

The daring attempt of BLOOD to steal the REGALIA in the Tower, during the reign of Charles II, although generally known to most readers, may be briefly stated. Sir George Talbot, who was appointed Master of the Jewel-House, committed the charge of showing the regalia to an old servant of his father, named Talbot Edwards, giving him the profits which arose from the exhibition. About three weeks before his attempt, Blood, who was a disbanded officer of the Protectorate, went to the Tower in the habit of a parson, "with a long cloak, cassock, and canonical girdle," accompanied by a woman whom he called his wife--his real wife being then in Lancashire. The lady requested to see the crown, and her wish having been gratified, she feigned "a qualm upon her stomach;" and Mrs. Edwards, after giving her some spirits at her husband's request, invited her to repose upon a bed. She soon recovered, and "at their departure she seemed very thankful for the civility." After an interval of a few days Blood returned, and gave Mrs. Edwards four pairs of white gloves, as a present from his intended wife. At a subsequent visit, he told her that his wife "could discourse of nothing but the kindness of those good people in the Tower," and that she had long studied, and at last bethought her, of a handsome way of requital. "You have," quoth he, "a pretty gentlewoman to your daughter, and I have a young nephew, who hath two or three hundred a year in land, and is at my disposal. If your daughter be free, and you approve of it, I will bring him here to see her, and we will endeavour to make it a match." This was readily assented to by old Mr. Edwards, who invited the disguised ruffian to dine with him on that day. The invitation was willingly accepted, and Blood, "taking upon him to say grace," performed it with great seeming devotion, concluding his "long-winded" oration with a prayer for the king, queen, and royal family. After dinner, "he went up to see the rooms, and seeing a handsome case of pistols hanging there, expressed a great desire to buy them, to present to a young lord who was his neighbour;" but this was merely a pretence, by which he thought to "disarm the house," and thus execute his design with less danger. At his departure, which was with "a canonical benediction of the good company." he appointed a day and hour for introducing his young nephew to his future bride; and as he wished, he said, "to bring two friends with him to see the regalia, who were to leave town early on that morning," the hour was fixed at about seven o'clock.

On the appointed day (May 29th, 1671), "the old man had got up, ready to receive his guests, and the daughter had put herself into her best dress to entertain her gallant, when Parson Blood, with three more, came to the Jewel-House, all armed with rapier blades in their canes, and every one a dagger and a pair of pocket-pistols."

Blood told Mr. Edwards that they would not go upstairs until his wife came, and desired him to show his friends the crown, to pass the time till then. This was complied with; but no sooner had they entered the room where the crown was kept, and the door, as usual, been shut, than "they threw a cloak over the old man's head, and clapt a gag into his mouth, which was a great plug of wood, with a small hole in the middle to take breath at; this was tyed with a waxed leather, which went round his neck. At the same time they fastened an iron hook to his nose, that no sound might pass from him by that way either." Thus secured, they told him, "that their resolution was to have the crown, globe, and sceptre, and if he would quietly submit to it, they would spare his life, otherwise he was to expect no mercy." Notwithstanding this threat, "he forced himself to make all the noise he possibly could do to be heard above;" they then "knocked him down with a wooden mallet, and told him if yet he would lie quiet, they would spare his life, but if not, upon his next attempt to discover them, they would kill him, and pointed three daggers at his breast." Edwards, however, by his own account, was not yet intimidated, but "strained him-self to make the greater noise;" in consequence, they gave him "nine or ten strokes more with the mallet on his head (for so many bruises were found upon the skull), and stabbed him into the belly." This ferocious treatment occasioned the old man, "now almost eighty years of age," to swoon; and he lay some time in so senseless a condition that one of the miscreants said, "He's dead, I'll warrant him." Edwards, who had come a little to himself, heard his words, and conceiving it best to be thought so, "lay quietly." The rich prize was now within the villains' grasp, and one of them, named Parrot, "put the globe (orb) into his breeches, Blood held the crown under his cloak," and the third was proceeding to file the sceptre in two, in order that it might be put into a bag, "because too long to carry," when their proceedings were interrupted by the unexpected arrival of a son of Mr. Edwards from Flanders, who, having first spoken to the person who stood on the watch at the door, went upstairs to salute his relations. Seizing the opportunity, the ruffians instantly "hasted away" with the crown and orb, leaving the sceptre unfiled.

The old keeper now raised himself, and, freeing his mouth from the gag, cried, "Treason! Murder !" which, being heard by his daughter, she rushed out of doors and reiterated the cries, with the addition, "The Crown is stolen !" The alarm being thus given, young Edwards and Captain Beckman, his brother-in-law, pursued the robbers, who were advanced beyond the main guard (at the White Tower), and were hastening towards the draw-bridge. Here the warder "put himself into posture to stop them," but, on Blood firing a pistol at him, he fell, though unhurt, and the thieves got safe to the little Ward-house Gate, where one Sill, who had been a soldier under Cromwell, stood sentinel; "but he offering no opposition, they passed over the drawbridge, and through the outward gate upon the wharf." Horses were stationed for them "at St. Katherine's Gate, called the Iron Gate," and, as they ran that way, they raised a cry of "Stop the rogues!" by which device they proceeded unopposed, until overtaken by Captain Beckman, at whose head Blood discharged his second pistol; but the Captain avoided the shot by stooping down, and immediately seized the ruffian. The crown was still beneath his cloak; and although every chance of escape was now over, he struggled vigorously to retain his prey; and when it was wrested from him, said, "It was a gallant attempt, however unsuccessful, for it was for a crown!"

In this "robustious struggle" a large pearl, a fair diamond, and a number of smaller stones, were bulged from the crown; but both the former and several of the latter were subsequently "picked up" and restored. The balas ruby which had been broken off the sceptre was found in Parrot's pocket, so that nothing of considerable value was eventually lost. (In the account of this transaction given in the London Gazette, which was partly written before Hunt and his two companions were seized, is this passage:--"With the two that were taken were found the crown and the ball, only some few stones missing, which had been loosened by the beating of the crown together with the mallet or beetle spoken of.")

Parrot (who had been a silk-dyer in Thames Street, and afterwards a lieutenant in the Parliament's service) was stopped by a servant, and Hunt, Blood's son-in-law, who had been waiting with the horses, was soon afterwards seized, together with two others of the party.

The attempted robbery was soon afterwards made known to the king, who commanded that the two persons first seized, and who had been lodged in the White Tower, should be examined in his own presence at Whitehall. This circumstance is supposed to have saved them from the gallows.

During his examination Blood behaved with the most unblushing effrontery. He not only acknowledged having been leader in the atrocious attempt upon the life of the Duke of Ormond (whom he had intended to hang at Tyburn), but also avowed that he had been engaged to kill his Majesty himself, with a carbine, from among the reeds "by the Thames side, above Battersea, where he often went to swim;" that the cause of this resolution, in himself and others, was "his Majesty's severity over the consciences of the godly, in suppressing the freedom of their religious assemblies," but that "when he had taken his stand among the reeds for that purpose, his heart was checked by an awe of Majesty," which made him not only to relent himself, but likewise to divert his associates from their design.

When further questioned, as to those associates, he replied "that he would never betray a friend's life, nor ever deny a guilt in defence of his own." At the same time, he told the king that he knew these confessions had laid him open to the utmost rigour of the law; but that there were hundreds of his friends, yet undiscovered, who were all bound "by the indispensable oaths of conspirators, to revenge each other's death upon those who should bring them to justice;" which "would expose his Majesty and all his ministers to the daily fear and expectation of a massacre. But, on the other side, if his Majesty would spare the lives of a few, he might oblige the hearts of many, who, as they had been seen to do daring mischief, would be as bold, if received into pardon and favour, to perform eminent services for the crown."

After this examination Blood and his accomplices were remanded to the Tower, there to be kept as close prisoners; but to the surprise of the nation they were all subsequently pardoned and released. Blood himself had landed property granted to him in Ireland, to the amount of 500 pound per annum; and was likewise admitted into "all the privacy and intimacy of the court," in which he industriously employed his influence, and became "a most successful solicitor" in other's behalf; but "many gentlemen courted his acquaintance as the Indians pray to the devils, that they may not hurt them."

When it had been determined to pardon Blood, who, both by his own confession, and on strong evidence, was guilty of the attempt upon the Duke of Ormond's life, Lord Arlington was sent to inform his grace that it was his majesty's pleasure that Blood should not be prosecuted, "for reasons" which he (his lordship) "was commanded to give him"; but the duke interrupted him with the shrewd remark, "That his majesty's command was the only reason that could be given, and that therefore he might spare the rest."

Whilst the principal ruffian was thus favoured, old Edwards, after much intercession, could obtain only a grant on the Exchequer of pound 200 for himself and pound 100 for his son; but the payment, even of these sums, was so long delayed, and the expense of curing the old man's wounds so considerable, that they were obliged to sell their orders for half the amount in ready money.