November 21, 2018 | Leave a comment If you were ever minded to try and steal the English Crown Jewels, you would have quite a job on your hands. Today they sit protected by bomb proof glass in the Jewel House of the Tower of London, monitored continuously by over 100 hidden CCTV cameras, and overseen by 22 Tower Guards. In addition, 38 Yeoman Warders, more commonly known as Beefeaters, who live within the Tower’s walls, provide additional security. But it was not always thus. Oh no! The Crown Jewels went on public display for the first time in 1669, when the Deputy Keeper of the Jewel House, one Talbot Edwards, would, in return for a fee, remove the priceless regalia from their protective repository, and show them to visitors. Even by 17th century standards, not the most secure method of displaying the nation’s valuable assets you might be thinking; and you’d be right! Indeed, it wasn’t long before a certain individual of dubious credentials, hatched a cunning plan to relieve the Tower of its treasure. The superbly named Colonel Thomas Blood had been born in Ireland in 1618, and had fought in the English Civil War for both parliamentarian and royalist sides, although it does not appear that either side actually appointed him to the rank of colonel. It seems that, for reasons best known to himself, he simply adopted the designation of his own accord. However, irrespective of his true status in life, it is for his audacious plot to steal the Crown Jewels, that Thomas Blood (colonel or not) sealed his place in British history. Colonel? Thomas Blood Colonel Thomas Blood 1813 drawing. This media file is in the public domain . The story begins in the spring of 1671, when dressed as a parson, Blood paid a visit to the Tower of London, together with a woman whom he claimed to be his wife. They parted with the requisite fee to obtain a viewing of the Crown Jewels, whereupon Blood’s supposed wife feigned illness. The sole purpose of this subterfuge, was to enable Blood to become acquainted with the aforementioned Talbot Edwards and his family. The contrived bout of ill health worked a treat, and Blood soon returned to the Tower with a gift of gloves for Mrs Edwards, by way of a thank you for her having administered to his wife during her purported malaise. Thomas Blood was thus able to ingratiate himself with the Edwards family, and his plan soon moved on to phase three. He made complementary remarks in respect of the Edwards’ daughter, and announced that his own nephew was wishing to marry, adding that he thought the young lady would make him an excellent wife. According to Blood, his nephew was a man of considerable means, and that, were the two to marry, the young lady would be assured of a very comfortable life. Talbot Edwards was suitably impressed and a further visit was duly arranged to enable the matrimonial candidates to meet one another. That visit took place on 9th May 1671, when Blood, his ‘nephew’, and a couple of friends arrived for dinner. Despite being 77 years of age and holding a position of considerable responsibility, Talbot Edwards appears to have been somewhat naive. Whilst his wife and daughter were busy preparing the meal, and presumably at Blood’s request, he took the four men to the basement where the Crown Jewels were kept. As soon as they arrived, the gang sprang into action. A cloak was thrown over Edwards, who was then hit with a mallet, stabbed, bound and gagged. The motley crew wasted no time in forcing open the chest containing the jewels, and immediately began sharing out the booty. One individual shoved the Orb into his trousers, whist another cut the Sceptre in half, as it was too long to fit in the swag bag they had brought with them. In another act of vandalism, Blood battered the crown flat with the mallet, in order that he could depart with the headdress concealed about his person. A Depiction of the Scene of Crime Blood and His Accomplices Making their Escape after Stealing the Crown of Charles the Second. 1793. The Jewel House by George Younghusband (1921). This work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author’s life plus 100 years or less. However, despite his injuries, the aged Talbot Edwards had been only mildly incapacitated, and was thus able to remove the gag, whereupon he raised the alarm by shouting “Treason! Murder! The crown is stolen!” Realising that they had been rumbled, the gang made a run for it. Despite shooting one of the warders, they were nevertheless soon overpowered, and Blood and his accomplices were chained and incarcerated in the very castle where they had been dinner guests just a short while earlier. What happened next was remarkable, to say the least. At a time when capital punishment was commonplace, one would have expected Blood to have faced the hangman’s noose. However, when Colonel Blood was interrogated, he refused to explain himself, instead stating that he would answer to no one except the King. Surprisingly, King Charles II agreed to interview Blood personally, and the prisoner was duly hauled up before the monarch. What persuaded the King towards leniency is not known, but astonishingly, when he had finished questioning Blood, not only did he pardon him, but he gave him land and an annual income of £500 (over £100,000 in today’s terms). So, why did King Charles II actually reward Blood for what was, on the face of it, an undoubted act of treason? Unfortunately, the truth is unlikely ever to be known, but various suggestions have been put forward to explain the King’s extreme benevolence. The least plausible is that he simply took to Thomas Blood and regarded him as nothing more than a loveable rogue. A more conceivable explanation is that Blood was a government spy, and was either too valuable to the King to dispense with, or was in possession of information pertaining to the King’s affairs, that would be damaging if it found its way into the public domain; arrangements for which Blood may have made in advance, in the event of anything untoward happening to him. Another possibility, albeit ill conceived, is that the whole thing was basically an inside job! The King was perennially short of cash and, like his father before him, was always looking for ways to raise additional funds. Is it really possible that the King arranged for Blood to steal the Crown Jewels, sell them, and add the proceeds to the royal treasury, in a sort of early version of a ‘Cash for Gold’ scheme? King Charles II with his Crown Portrait of King Charles II (1630-1685). Peter Lely (1618–1680) Charles II is portrayed wearing the robes of the Sovereign of the Order of the Garter. This work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author’s life plus 100 years or less. Whatever the reason, Thomas Blood had only a few years to enjoy his new found wealth. He died on 24th August 1680, aged 61 or 62. Unfortunately for his legacy, it seems as though the King was in the minority in wishing him well, as his epitaph read as follows: Here lies the man who boldly has run through, More villainies than England ever knew; And ne’er to any friend he had was true. Here let him then by all unpitied lie, And let’s rejoice his time was come to die. A bit harsh, don’t you think? Sources: http://thequirkypast.com/wp/9th-may-1671-colonel-thomas-blood-steals-the-english-crown-jewels/ https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jewel_House https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Crown_Jewels_of_the_United_Kingdom https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Blood https://www.bankofengland.co.uk/monetary-policy/inflation/inflation-calculator