(sixth edition, 1754), 1673, instead of 1671. About three weeks before the attempt Blood came to the Tower of London ‘in the habit of a parson, with a long cloak, cassock, and canonical girdle, and brought a woman with him, whom he called his wife, although in truth his wife was then sick in Lancashire. This pretended wife desired to see the crown, and having seen it feigned to have a qualm come upon her.’ She prevailed on Edwards to send for some spirits, and, when his own wife brought some, the stranger was invited into their private rooms to rest on a bed. At departure ‘they seemed very thankful for this civility.’ Three or four days later Blood returned, to the Tower, bringing a present of four or five pairs of white gloves for Mrs. Edwards, and speedily improved the acquaintanceship. After a short interval, to avoid suspicion, he proposed to bring a nephew, ‘who hath two or three hundred a year in land, and is at my disposal,' in order to make a match between him and the pretty daughter of Mrs. Edwards. This was assented to, and an invitation given to dine with the family at once, Blood saying ace with great show of devotion and loyalty, ending with a prayer for the king, queen, and royal family. After dinner he inspected the rooms, and managed to disarm the house of a handsome case of pistols, by pretending to purchase them as a present to a young nobleman, his neighbour. At departure he made an appointment to bring his nephew for a meeting with the intended bride, fixing the day and hour, 9 May, at seven o’clock in the morning. At the time preparations had been made by the unsuspecting family, the young lady in her best attire sending her waiting-maid to bring early news of the bridegroom's appearance. Blood brought three companions, who appear to have been one Parrot, Tom Hunt, and another, Richard Hallowell or Holloway. Parrot was a silk-dyer of Southwark, and had been lieutenant to Major-general Harrison, who suffered as a regicide (possibly the same Robert Parrot who was hanged for his part in Monmouth’s rebellion in 1685). They were all armed, with rapiers in their canes, and every one had a dagger and pocket-pistols. Blood, Hunt, and Parrot entered the house, the fourth stayed outside to keep watch. He was the youngest, and the maid believed him to be the enamoured nephew.
On pretence of waiting until his wife came before going to the ladies, Blood prevailed on Edwards to show the crown jewels to his friends, to pass the time. When all had entered the room and closed the door as usual, Edwards was attacked, a cloak thrown over his head, a gag thrust into his mouth, ‘a great plug of wood with a small hole in the middle to take breath at. This they tied on 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 that way.’ They told him that they would not harm him further if he submitted quietly, but that they were determined to carry off the crown, globe, and sceptre, and would show no mercy if he gave an alarm. Nevertheless he tried to make a noise and be heard above. They therefore knocked him down with a wooden mallet, and pointed three daggers at him. He still tried to call aloud; they beat him again and stabbed him, but not mortally, although they believed him to be dead. Then Parrot put the globe in his loose breeches. Blood held the crown, after crushing it, under his parson's cloak. The third prepared to file the sceptre in two and put it in a bag. At this moment young Edwards returned. He had been with Sir John Talbot in Flanders, and was newly home on leave to see his old father. After being stopped by the man who kept watch, young Edwards went to his mother and sister; while the conspirators, receiving notice of danger, made off with their plunder. The old man regained consciousness, gave the alarm, and was heard by his daughter, who rushed out, crying, ‘Treason, the crown is stolen!’ Blood and Parrot were hastening away, but young Edwards and Captain Beckman on hearing the cry pursued them, so that, despite resistance, they were captured with the jewels still in their possession. ‘It was a bold attempt,’ Blood boasted, ‘but it was for a crown.' Instead of being executed for this attempt he met reward. His audacity saved him. Examined before Dr. Chamberlain, and next before Sir William Waller, Blood refused to make confession except to the king himself, and Charles admitted him to his presence, being desirous of seeing so bold a ruffian. Blood avowed that the plan was his own, but threatened that his confederates would avenge his death; refused to impeach others, but avowed his share in the capture of Ormonde, and that awe of his majesty’s sacred person had hindered him from perpetrating assassination when the king was bathing at Battersea. He not only escaped punishment, but obtained the forfeited Irish estates of 500l. annual value, and seemed to have interest at court, being often seen in the presence-chamber. Before long he quarrelled with his protector, Buckingham, or at least fell under accusation of conspiring to have him charged with an atrocious crime. Innocent or guilty (and it seems probable that it was a trick to ruin him), he was committed
