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.
The family of Blood among the earlier settlers of New England has
sometimes been said to be closely connected with that of the Colonel,
but there is no substantial evidence either way. (_Mass. Hist. Coll._)
On the other hand a tablet to the memory of Blood's cousin, Neptune,
is to be found in Kilfernora Cathedral (_Proc. Roy. Soc. Antiq. Irel.
1900_, p. 396). A note says that he was the son and namesake of his
predecessor in the Deanery and grandson of Edmond Blood of Macknay in
Derbyshire who settled in Ireland about 1595 and was M.P. for Ennis in
1613. A fuller account of the plots is to be found in articles by the
author of this sketch in the _American Historical Review_ for April
and July, 1909, under title of _English Conspiracy and Dissent,
1660-1674_.
End of Project Gutenberg's Colonel Thomas Blood, by Wilbur Cortez Abbott