Page 78 of Traitors Gate

‘He sadly died three years later in 1674 from the injuries he’d sustained when taking on Blood and his thugs. His son Wythe took his place as Keeper of the Jewels and no one has attempted to steal the Crown Jewels since.’

‘But why did the King pardon such a scoundrel in the first place,’ asked William, ‘after he’d committed so many crimes?’

‘We can’t be sure,’ said Peter. ‘But one report, probablyput about by Blood himself, suggests he told the King he had planned to kill him while he was swimming in the river at Battersea. He claimed he raised the pistol and took aim, but when he set eyes on the monarch, he couldn’t pull the trigger.’

‘He fell for that?’ said William.

‘At the same time he warned the King that, if he were to be hanged, a hundred of his faithful followers would not rest until they had sought revenge.’

‘The King,’ said William, ‘should have packed Blood off to the Tower after such a blatant display of false flattery followed by an idle threat.’

‘Historians think it more likely,’ said Artemisia, turning the page, ‘that Blood offered to act as the King’s spy and name all the rebels who were plotting against him.’

‘Just the sort of friend one can rely on,’ said William.

‘And not long after his release,’ continued Peter, ‘several militants were arrested, among them three of Cromwell’s captains, who did end up on spikes on London Bridge.’

‘Blood also convinced several of his own followers,’ added Artemisia, ‘to give themselves up, including the four rogues who assisted him when he attempted to steal the Crown Jewels.’

‘What happened to them?’ asked William.

‘They were also pardoned.’

‘Why?’

‘Perhaps the merry monarch considered a pardon the lesser of two evils,’ suggested Beth.

‘But Blood certainly wasn’t the lesser of two evils,’ said William. ‘Or perhaps the King was more fearful of his own life and Blood’s silver tongue convinced him it wasn’t a risk worth taking.’

‘Possibly,’ said Peter, ‘but as both men took the secret totheir graves, we’ll never know. However, “an unknown Londoner” reported in his diary in August of that year that he had seen Blood strolling down the Strand in a new smock coat and periwig, only two weeks after he’d been released. He described him as a rough-honed man with a pock-ridden face and sunken blue eyes.’

‘So did Blood return to Ireland and die of old age?’ asked Beth.

‘No. He remained in London,’ said Peter, ‘and not many years after his release, he fell ill and died at his home in Bowling Green Alley. Several well-known people attended his funeral to watch the coffin being lowered into the ground. But even that wasn’t enough for the Duke of Ormond’s son, who had the body disinterred to check that one thumb was twice the size of the other, a peculiarity that had betrayed Blood on more than one occasion when he was on the run from the law.’

‘Several citizens are said to have slept more easily once they were convinced he could no longer betray them,’ said Artemisia. ‘And although he died with few friends to mourn him, one poet wrote:

At last our famous hero Colonel Blood

Seeing his prospects all will do no good

And that success was still to him denied

Fell sick with grief, broke his heart and died.’

Artemisia and Peter closed their notebooks, looked up and said in unison, ‘The end!’

They were greeted with as warm applause as one could hope for from an audience of three.

‘Do you think we’ll win the prize?’ asked Peter once the applause had died down.

‘If you don’t,’ said William, ‘I’ll want to read the essay that does.’

‘Very diplomatic,’ said Beth as the door opened and Ross came rushing in.

‘I’m afraid you missed the final episode of the Colonel Blood story,’ said William as Jojo threw her arms around her father and said, ‘Where have you been?’

Ross was about to reply, when Artemisia said, ‘I’d be quite happy to read the whole story again.’

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