Part 5

May it please your Majesty these may tell and inform you that it was Sir Thomas Osborne and Sir Thomas Littleton, both your treasurers for your Navy, that set me to steal your crown, but he that feed me with money was James Littleton, Esq. 'Tis he that pays under your treasurer at the Pay Office. He is a very bold villainous fellow, a very rogue, for I and my companions have had many a hundred pounds of him of your Majesty's money to encourage us upon this attempt. I pray no words of this confession, but know your friends. Not else but am your Majesty's prisoner and if life spared your dutiful subject whose name is Blood, which I hope is not that your Majesty seeks after."

Surely of the two qualities then so necessary in the court, wit and effrontery, a plentiful supply was not lacking to a man who could write such a letter in such a situation. And his daring, his effrontery and his adventures undoubtedly made a great impression on the king.

Another reason for the treatment Blood received was, strangely enough, his powerful influence at court. It will be remembered, in connection with the rescue of Mason, that the great Duke of Buckingham, Lord-lieutenant of Yorkshire, and one of the men highest in favour at court and in the country at large, had been arrested on a charge of conspiring with the fanatics against the throne. He had been released, and was now not only again in the royal favour, but was one of the leading men in the ministry of the day, the so-called Cabal. It was he who secured the interview with the king for Blood, and he doubtless lent his influence for mercy. And there was, perhaps, a deeper reason for this. Buckingham was the bitter enemy of Ormond. The king, whatever his inclination, could not, in decency, pardon Blood, after his confessing to the attack on Ormond, without at least some pretense of consulting the man who had been so maltreated. He sent, therefore, to Ormond to ask him to forgive Blood. Lord Arlington carried the message with those private reasons for the request, which still puzzles us. Blood, meanwhile, under direction, wrote a letter to Ormond, expressing his regret in unmeasured terms. The old Duke's reply was at once a lesson in dignity and loyalty. "If the king could forgive an attempt on his crown," he said proudly to Arlington, "I myself may easily forgive an attempt on my life, and since it is his Majesty's pleasure, that is reason sufficient for me, and your lordship may well spare the rest of the explanations." But Ormond's son, and his biographer, took refuge in no such dignity. The latter declares roundly that Buckingham instigated the attempt on his master. And not long after the affair, the former, the gallant young Earl of Ossory, coming into the royal presence and seeing the Duke of Buckingham standing by the king, his colour rose, and he spoke to this effect:

"My lord, I know well that you are at the bottom of this late attempt of Blood's upon my father; and therefore I give you fair warning if my father comes to a violent end by sword or pistol, or if he dies by the hand of a ruffian, or by the more secret way of poison, I shall not be at a loss to know the first author of it; I shall consider you as the assassin; I shall treat you as such; and wherever I meet you I shall pistol you, though you stood behind the king's chair; and I tell it you in his Majesty's presence that you may be sure I shall keep my word."

These were brave words, and had they come from other lips than those of the Restoration Bayard, might have been regarded as mere bravado. But he had proved his courage on too many occasions to count this lightly. Scarce five years before, while visiting Sir Thomas Clifford, in the country, he had heard the guns of the fleet off Harwich, in the fierce battle of Lowestoft. With no commission and with no connection with either the navy or the government, he had mounted a horse, and, accompanied by his host, had ridden to the shore and put off in an open boat to the English fleet to take his part in one of the hardest day's fighting the English fleet ever saw. The word of such a man, conspicuous for his honesty as for his courage, was not to be lightly set aside. And whether this threat was the cause or not, or whether Buckingham was really not responsible for an assault which might have been attributed to Blood's desire for revenge on the man who had confiscated his estates and hanged his brother-in-law, the old Duke was not further molested.

But, apart from these matters, there is another, and one may be permitted to think, a more serious reason for Blood's escape. It lies in the political situation of the time. This was, in many ways, peculiar. Some four years before the events we have narrated in connection with the theft of the crown the administration of Clarendon had fallen and had been succeeded by that of a group called the Cabal, whose chief bond of union lay in the fact that they were none of them Anglicans and they were all opposed to Clarendon. They, with the aid of the king, who, largely through tenderness to the Catholics, had never favoured the persecuting policy, had relaxed the execution of the Clarendonian measures, and had thus far succeeded in preventing the re-enactment of the Conventicle Act which had expired some years before. The Anglicans in Parliament had been no less insistent that the old policy be maintained and that the Act be renewed. The king, now supported by his ministers, was no less eager to renew the attempt which had failed under Clarendon, and revive the dispensing power, whereby the toleration of Catholic and Protestant Nonconformist alike would rest in his own hands. This situation was complicated by the fact that king and ministers alike were bent on another war with Holland. It seemed highly desirable to them to pacify the still discontented Nonconformists before entering on such a struggle, particularly since the government had little money and must rely on the city, which was strongly Nonconformist in its sentiments. It seemed no less necessary to destroy, if possible, that group of extremists whose conspiracies were doubly dangerous in the face of a war. To gain information of the feelings of the dissenting bodies, and discover what terms would be most acceptable to them, to track down and bring in the fierce and desperate men from whom trouble might be anticipated, to discover if possible the connection that existed between the sects and those in high places, these were objects of the highest importance. They needed such a man as Blood. And it seemed worth while to Charles to tame this fierce bird of prey to his service to achieve such ends as he contemplated. Some such thought evidently occurred to the king during the examination. "What," he is said to have asked bluntly at its close, "What if I should give you your life?" Blood's reply is almost epic, "I would endeavor to deserve it."

This, at any rate, became his immediate business. Almost at once he was taken in hand by the government, and it was soon reported that he was making discoveries. The arrest of three of Cromwell's captains is noted among the first fruits of his information. And close upon the heels of his pardon came the arrest and conviction of some twenty-four or twenty-five irreconcilables[9]. This may or may not show the hand of the new government agent, but the circumstantial evidence is strong. It is certain, however, that throughout the winter of 1671-2 Secretary Williamson was in close consultation with Blood over the situation and the demands of Dissenters, and he filled many pages of good paper with cryptic abbreviations of these long and important interviews, in which are to be found many curious secrets of conventicles and conspiracies, of back-stairs politics and the underground connections of men high in the councils of the nation. From Blood, from the Presbyterian ministers, through one or two of their number, and from sources to which these communications led, the court and ministry gradually obtained the information from which a great and far-reaching policy was framed. This took form in the beginning of the following year in the famous Declaration of Indulgence. This, taking the control of the Nonconformist situation from Parliament, placed it in the hands of the king. Licenses were to be issued to ministers to preach, to meeting-houses, and to other places for worship which was not according to the forms or under the direction of the Anglican church. The policy, owing to the bitter opposition of Parliament, lasted but a few months, but it marked an era in English history. The rioting which had accompanied the revival of the Conventicle Act, and which had encouraged the government to try the licensing system, disappeared. For a few months entire religious toleration prevailed, and, though Parliament forced the king to withdraw his Declaration, the old persecution was never revived. In this work Blood's share was not small. He not merely furnished information, he became one of the recognized channels through whom licenses were obtained, and in the few months while they were being issued he drove a thriving trade. And with one other activity which preceded the Dutch war he was doubtless closely connected. This was the issuing of pardons to many of those old Cromwellians who had sought refuge in Holland a dozen years before. No small number of these, taking advantage of the government's new lenience, came back from exile with their families and goods, and took up their residence again in England. Thus Colonels Burton and Kelsey, Berry and Desborough, Blood's brother-in-law Captain Lockyer, Nicholas, Sweetman and many others found pardons and were received again into England. "Through his means," wrote Mrs. Goffe to her husband, "as is reputed, Desborough and Maggarborn [Major Bourne?] and Lewson of Yarmouth is come out of Holland and Kelsi and have their pardon and liberty to live quietly, no oath being imposed on them." "The people of God have much liberty and meetings are very free and they sing psalms in many places and the King is very favourable to many of the fanatics and to some of them he was highly displeased with." It might have been that the regicides in New England could have returned but the cautious Mrs. Goffe warned her husband not to rely on the favourable appearance of affairs. "It is reported," she wrote, "that Whalley and Goffe and Ludlow is sent for but I think they have more wit than to trust them."

[9] Variously noted as 20, 24 and 27.

In the third great measure of the period, the Stop of the Exchequer, Blood naturally had no part, but when the war actually broke out, he found a new field of usefulness in obtaining information from Holland, in ferreting out the tracts which the Dutch smuggled into England, in watching for the signs of conspiracy at home. Thus he lived and flourished. His residence was in Bowling Alley, now Bowling Street, leading from Dean's Yard to Tufton Street, Westminster, convenient to Whitehall. His favorite resort is said to have been White's Coffee House, near the Royal Exchange[10]. His sinister face and ungraceful form became only too familiar about the court. His bearing was resented by many as insolent. He was both hated and feared as he moved through the atmosphere of intrigue by which the court was surrounded, getting and revealing to the king information of the conspirators, of the Dutch, and the other enemies of royalty. His was not a pleasant trade and there were undoubtedly many who, for good reasons of their own, wished him out of the way. There were many who contrasted his reward with the neglect of the unfortunate Edwards, and who railed at Blood and the king alike. Rochester allowed himself the usual liberty of rhymed epigram:

[10] Thus Wheatley and Cunningham. John Timbs, in his _Romance of London_, says Blood lived first in Whitehall, then, according to tradition, in a house on the corner of Peter and Tufton Streets.

_Blood that wears treason in his face Villain complete in parson's gown How much is he at court in grace For stealing Ormond and the crown? Since loyalty does no man good Let's steal the King and out do Blood._

There were doubtless many more who regretted that the king had not bestowed on him a reward that was at one time contemplated, the governorship of a colony, the hotter the better. In that event America would have had some direct share in the career of England's most distinguished criminal. And even so it is by no means certain she would have suffered greatly in comparison with the situation of some colonies under the governors they actually had. But Blood was far too useful at home to be wasted on a distant dependency. And, on the whole, the outlaw seems to have fully justified his existence and even his pardon, as an outer sentinel along the line of guards between King Charles and his enemies. That he was so hated is perhaps, in some sort a measure of his usefulness. For the times when men in the ministry or just out of the ministry conspired or connived at conspiracy against the government and held communication with an enemy in arms to compel their sovereign to their will are not those in which a ruler will be too squeamish about his means, least of all such a ruler as Charles.

In such wise Blood lived until 1679. Then he seems to have fallen foul of the Duke of Buckingham, who had played such a great part in his career. He, with three others, was accused by the Duke of swearing falsely to a monstrous charge against his Grace and sued for the crushing sum of ten thousand pounds. A most curious circumstance brought out by this trial connects our story with the literature of to-day. In Scott's novel, _Peveril of the Peak_, it will be remembered that the villain is one Christian, brother of the deemster of the Isle of Man, who was executed by the Countess of Derby. This man, a most accomplished scoundrel, is there portrayed as the familiar Duke of Buckingham, who plays a part in the romance very like that which he plays in this story of real life. With the appearance of the later editions of the novel the author, in response to many inquiries concerning the authenticity of the various characters there portrayed, added some notes in which he gave some account of the originals of many of his characters. Concerning Christian, however, he declared that he was a wholly original creation, that, so far as he knew, no such man had ever existed, and that he was purely a fictitious character. Though, strange as it may seem, one of the men indicted with Blood in this action at law, was, in fact, named Christian, and Scott knew of him. And while he may not have played the part assigned to him in the story, he had for some time been in the service of the Duke, and to have had a reputation, if not a character, which might well have served as a model for the villain of the novel.

The motive of Buckingham in beginning this suit is obscure, but it was suspected that he thought by this means to hush up certain accusations which might have been brought against his own machinations, then scarcely to be defended in the light of day. The curious and unusual procedure and the absurdity of the charge which one might suppose it beneath the dignity of so great a nobleman to press in such fashion against such men, lends a certain colour to this suspicion. In any event the suit was tried and Blood was duly found guilty. But he was never punished. He fell sick in the summer of 1680 and, after two weeks of suffering, died August 24, in his house on the southwest corner of Bowling Alley. He was firm and undaunted to the last, and looked death in the face at the end with the same courage he had exhibited many times before. All England was then in the throes of the excitement of the Popish Plot and the Exclusion Bill, and civil war seemed almost in sight. Whig and Tory stood arrayed against each other, with the crown as the prize between. It would not be supposed that the death of the old adventurer could have caused more than a passing ripple of interest. Quite the contrary was the case. Strange end of a strange story, the mystery which surrounded him during his life did not altogether end with his death and burial. Even that, said many, was but one of the old fox's tricks. And to prove that it was not his body which had been interred in the adjoining churchyard of New Chapel, Tothill Fields, the grave was opened after some days, the corpse carried before a coroner and identified by the curious fact that one of the thumbs was twice the natural size, a peculiarity which it seems would have betrayed Blood many times during his life.

Thus ended the troubled life of a mysterious man. If his end was not peace it certainly was not worse than his beginning. Not a few persons must have breathed easier at the final burial of the secrets which died with him. He was not without some literary remains, chief of which was a Life, which though not written by his own hand, gives evidence of having been written, either under his direction, or from material furnished by him. It contains, as perhaps its chief matter of interest outside the facts here included, not many of which adorn its pages, a story of which Blood seems to have been very proud. It is that on one occasion some of the men in his following of desperadoes proved unfaithful. He caused them to be seized and brought before him for trial in a public house. There, after the case had been set forth and the arguments made, he sentenced them to death, but later reprieved them. This, of all the good stories he might have told, is left to us as almost his sole contribution to the account of his adventures. For the rest, his memory was promptly embalmed in prose and verse, mostly libellous and wholly worthless, from any standpoint, of which the following sample may suffice whether of history or literature:

"_At last our famous hero, Colonel Blood, Seeing his projects all will do no good, And that success was still to him denied Fell sick with grief, broke his great heart and died._"

But there is still one curious circumstance about his family which it would be too bad not to insert here, and with which this story may fittingly conclude. It concerns one of his sons whom we have not met, Holcroft Blood. This youth, evidently inheriting the paternal love of adventure, ran away from home at the age of twelve. He found his way, through an experience as a sailor, into the French army. After the Revolution of 1688 he became an engineer in the English service, owing chiefly to his escape from a suit brought against him by his enemies, which was intended to ruin him but by accident attracted to him instead the notice of the man with whose visit to England our story began, now William the Third of England and Holland. This became the foundation of his fortunes. In the English service young Blood rose rapidly through the long period of wars which followed. He gained the praise of the great Marlborough, and ultimately became the principal artillery commander of the allied forces in the War of the Spanish Succession, dying, full of honors, in 1707. Meanwhile Ormond's grandson and heir, the second Duke, distinguished himself likewise in that same war in other quarters, and bade fair to take high rank as a commander. But on the death of Queen Anne he took the Jacobite side, was driven into exile, and died many years later, a fugitive supported by a Spanish and Papal pension. Thus did Fate equalize the two families within a generation.

I said at the beginning that this was to be the story of the greatest rascal in English history, but I am not so sure that it is, after all. It may be only the story of a brave man on the wrong side of politics and society. For his courage and ability, thrown on the other side of the scale, would, without doubt, have given him a far different place in history than the one he now occupies. What is the moral of it all? I do not know, and I am inclined to fall back on the dictum of a great man in a far different connection: "I do not think it desirable that we should always be drawing morals or seeking for edification. Of great men it may truly be said, 'It does good only to look at them.'"

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE.

The story here told has been related elsewhere though not in such detail nor, so far as I am aware, from precisely this point of view. Apart from the accounts in encyclopedias and biographical dictionaries, of which by far the best for its day is the _Biographia Brittanica_, the most accessible source of information is the article on Blood in the _Dictionary of National Biography_ and the fullest details are to be found in W. Hepworth Dixon's _Her Majesty's Tower_, VOL. IV, pp. 119, and in a note (No. 35) to Scott's _Peveril of the Peak_, in which novel the Colonel plays enough part to have a pen-portrait drawn of him by Scott in a speech by Buckingham.

These, of course, touch but lightly on the broader aspects of the matter. The sources for nearly all the statements made in the foregoing narrative are to be found in the _Calendars of State Papers, Domestic and Ireland, 1660-1675_, in the _Reports of the Historical Manuscripts Commission_, especially in the _Ormond Papers_ and in Carte's _Life of Ormond_. In 1680 was published a pamphlet entitled _Remarks on the Life and Death of the Famed Mr. Blood, etc._, signed R. H., which includes, besides a general running account of several of the outlaw's chief adventures, a curious and obscure story of the Buckingham incident from which it is practically impossible to get any satisfaction. To this is added a Postscript written some time after the body of the work and describing Blood's illness, death and burial. This tract appears to have been written by some one who knew Blood, and in places seems to represent his own story. It would perhaps be too much to assume from the similarity of the initials that it was composed by that Richard Halliwell, Hallowell or Halloway, the tobacco cutter of Frying-Pan Alley, Petticoat Lane, whose name, or alias, appears among those often connected with Blood in his enterprises. Sir Gilbert Talbot's narrative of Blood's adventures, especially valuable for its full account of the attempt on the crown, is to be found in Strype's _Continuation of Stowe's Survey of London_. Some details as to Blood's London haunts may be found in Wheatley and Cunningham's _London, Past and Present_.

There are several portraits of Blood extant of which the one in the _National Portrait Gallery_, painted by Gerard Soest, is the best. This is reproduced in Cust's _National Portrait Gallery_, VOL. I, p. 163. Another which appeared in the _Literary Magazine_, for the year 1791, is evidently a copy of the one prefixed to this study. This is reproduced from a contemporary mezzotint, which is described in Smith's _British Mezzotinto Portraits_, (Henry Sotheran & Co., Lond., 1884), as follows:

THOMAS BLOOD.

H. L. in oval frame directed to left facing towards and looking to front, long hair, cravat, black gown. Under: _G. White Fecit. Coll Blood. Sold by S. Sympson in ye Strand near Catherine Street._ H. 10; Sub. 8-3/4; W. 7-1/4; O.D.H. 8-1/4; W. 7.

I. As described. II. Engraver's name and address erased, reworked, modern.

Another reproduction of the same original may be found in Lord Ronald Gower's _Tower of London_, VOL. II, p. 66. The daggers of Blood and Parret which were used to stab Edwards are said to be preserved in the Royal Literary Fund Society's museum, Adelphi Terrace.