THE LIFE 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 COLONEL HUTCHINSON 
 
 GOVERNOR OF NOTTINGHAM CASTLE AND TOWN. 
 DURING THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 DAUGHTER OF SIR ALLEN APSLEY, LIEUTENANT OF THE TO VVER, ETC. 
 
 ey : i " "rt 
 
 HIS WIDOW, MRS. LUCY HUTCHINSON, 
 
THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 From the collection of 
 James Collins, 
 Drumcondra, Ireland, 
 Purchased, 1918. 
 
 H976h 
 
 1839 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON, 
 
 GOVERNOR OF NOTTINGHAM CASTLE AND TOWN, 
 
 REPRESENTATIVE OF THE COUNTY OF NOTTINGHAM IN THE LONG PARLIAMENT, AND OF THE TOWN OF 
 NOTTINGHAM IN THE FIRST PARLIAMENT OF CHARLES II., ETC. 
 
 WITH 
 
 OF MANY OF THE MOST DISTINGUISHED OF HIS CONTEMPORARIES, 
 
 AND 
 
 A SUMMARY REVIEW OF PUBLIC AFFAIRS. 
 
 BY HIS WIDOW LUCY, 
 
 DAUGHTER OF SIR ALLEN APSLEY, LIEUTENANT OF THE TOWER, ETC. 
 
 FROM THE ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT BY TnE REV. JULIUS HUTCHINSON. 
 
 TO WHICH IS PREFIXED 
 
 THE LIFE OF MRS. HUTCHINSON. 
 
 WRITTEN BY HERSELF.—A FRAGMENT. 
 
We have not often met with anything more interesting and curious than this volume. Independent of 
 Its being a contemporary narrative of by far the most animating and important part of our history, it 
 challenges our attention as containing an accurate and luminous account of military and political affairs 
 from the hand of a woman; as exhibiting the most liberal and enlightened sentiments in the person of a 
 Puritan ; and sustaining a high tone of aristocratical dignity and pretension, though the work of a decided 
 republican. The views which it opens into the character of the writer and the manners of the age, will be 
 to many a still more powerful attraction. Of the times to which this narrative belongs—times to which 
 England owes all her freedom and all her glory—we can never hear too much or too often; and though their 
 6tory has been transmitted to us both with more fulness of detail and more vivacity of colouring than any 
 other portion of our annals, every reflecting reader must be aware that our information is still extremely 
 defective, and exposes us to the hazard of great misconceptions. The work before us, we think, is calculated 
 in a good degree to supply these deficiencies, and to rectify these errors. 
 
 Edinburgh Rbvibw, No. XXIV., Oct. 1808 . 
 
<B> 
 
 n i» h 
 
 \ 3^3 
 
 The Worx now presented to the readers of the Standard Library is of a very remark¬ 
 able character—remarkable for two causes; first, as being the production of a woman, at 
 a period when the education of the female sex was commonly neglected; and secondly, as 
 giving a more candid and straightforward account of the grounds of quarrel between the 
 King and Parliament, and of the motives which influenced the partisans of either side, 
 than is to be found in any other historian of the age. The minute details of the conduct 
 of Committees authorised by Parliament is curious, as showing the machinery by which 
 that extraordinary body of men contrived to keep up their authority over the kingdom, 
 and the manner in which they were in the end ruined by the instruments they were obliged 
 to employ; thus affording the army, at first their obedient servitors, an opportunity of 
 undermining, and finally subverting, their power. 
 
 The subject is so tempting, that it is difficult to withhold the pen ; but an Essay on the 
 state of society in 1642, and the causes of the Civil War, does not consist with our limits. 
 We may, however, be excused for taking a rapid glance at the preceding times, and giving 
 a brief opinion upon their operation. The result is best obtained from such works as the 
 present and others, which in due course will be presented in this series. 
 
 The history of the British people is more remarkable than that of any other nation. 
 The desire, the will of the people to be free, has been manifested from the earliest times; 
 and had the Stuarts regarded the genius of the nation, more than the accidental results 
 which, for comparatively a few years, obliged the people to submit to a government in 
 itself despotic, though still preserving the forms of freedom, they would not so madly have 
 insisted on their divine right to the throne. 
 
 The Conqueror and his immediate successors found it very necessary (though sorely 
 against their will) to grant the privileges which the people claimed as their right. “ The 
 laws of Edward the Confessor” were an alarum-peal constantly rung in their ears ; and, 
 often promised and by parcels granted, were at last confirmed by the Great Charter. Suc¬ 
 ceeding sovereigns, and more especially Edward the First, perhaps the wisest king that 
 ever graced the throne of England, found it needful to curb the overbearing rapacity of the 
 nobles, by acceding fresh liberty to the Commons. Without their aid the wars with 
 France, which flattered their vanity and made them drunk with glory, had never been 
 achieved. To the wars of the Two Roses, the fatal effects of which struck almost to the 
 vitals of the state, must be ascribed that dream of absolute power which dazzled the Tudors 
 and overwhelmed the Stuarts. Henry the Seventh, when he mounted the throne, found him 
 self possessed of perhaps greater power than had ever before been enjoyed by an English 
 king, and he pushed it to the uttermost. The nation was worn out with war; many of the best 
 families were annihilated; all the remainder weakened: he found them glad of tranquillity 
 on any terms. His son at first appeared to yield to the rising energy of the people ; but 
 the religious dissensions which arose, contributed to place even additional power in his 
 hands : to be spiritually free, the nation submitted to be corporeally slaves. The personal 
 character of Elizabeth (for the reigns of Edward and Mary were too short to permit of 
 decisive intimations of public feeling) was fully sufficient to reconcile the people to an 
 a most despotic government; and the spell of her influence remained after her decease. 
 Hence James found many who were ready to acquiesce in his open assertion of supreme 
 
I_-___ iY _,__ 
 
 power ; and, had he possessed but one half of Elizabeth’s talent, he might have brought the 
 nation to submit until they had totally forgotten their former freedom. Had his foreign 
 policy been bold and fortunate, instead of timid and unlucky, the names of Hampden and 
 Cromwell would have been unknown to history. 
 
 When the storm, whose foreboding mutterings might have been long heard by any ears 
 but those deafened by flattery, at last burst, its effects, had they not been counteracted, 
 would have been beneficial. The first demands of Parliament were not factious ; the body 
 was mainly composed of virtuous and upright men, who had every one a considerable 
 stake in the welfare of their country, and who then thought as little of a republic as of an 
 El Dorado. The evasion, even more than the denial, of the rights of the people irritated 
 the public feeling, and in the end party spirit usurped the place of patriotism in both 
 parties. So rapidly does the evil feeling inherent in human nature evolve itself when 
 energy degenerates into anger, that at the fatal crisis when the sword was fii'st drawn, it 
 was difficult for a conscientious man, who had not previously mingled in the strife, to 
 determine to which side he should attach himself; and the moderate man who, like Colonel 
 Hutchinson, acted upon principle, and not from interest or passion, was found fault with 
 by both parties. 
 
 The history of such a man, written by his wife—a woman in whom conjugal love, 
 maternal affection, and all the accomplishments befitting a lady of family, were united to 
 learning which would not have disgraced a scholar—is worthy the attention, not only of 
 the historian (who will there find facts clearly detailed and illustrated with curious minute¬ 
 ness), but the student of human nature. The motives which influenced the various 
 partisans ; even the bickerings of the parliamentary commissioners governing a country 
 town ; are all interesting in such a narrative, since they throw so great a light on the causes 
 of the rise and downfall of that mighty machine, the Long Parliament, which at one time 
 regulated the destinies of the empire. 
 
 Regarding the book as a mere matter of personal history, it is delightful; never were 
 a husband’s virtues more eloquently pictured by a faithful wife, and her own made bright 
 by the reflection. 
 
 This book was first given to the world in the year 1806, by the Rev. Julius Hutchinson, 
 a descendant of the family of Colonel Hutchinson, though not in the direct line 
 from him. We have retained the editor’s preface, which contains some interesting 
 particulars regarding the family of Colonel Hutchinson, and also the greater part of 
 the notes he appended (retrenching only a few which seemed superfluous), but have 
 not added any ourselves. The work, indeed, admits of much illustration; but the subject 
 matter is so various, and replete with facts of so deep an interest, that a full annotation 
 would almost overrun the text, and would comprise nearly a complete history of the events 
 of the whole period of the narrative. We have, therefore, thought it best to leave the 
 work untouched. In the course of this series, it is our intention to reprint other works 
 relating to the history of the Commonwealth, which are in themselves the best illustrations 
 of one like the present, confined to the actions of an individual. 
 
 The Rev. Julius Hutchinson, in his edition, carefully retained the old spelling of the 
 authoress, which was as incorrect as that of most other writers of the time, the same word 
 being frequently spelt differently in the same page. To retain this imperfection in a work of 
 the present nature, appears to us to answer no purpose but that of embarrassing the reader, 
 and we have consequently corrected it according to the modern standard. We have not, 
 however, altered any word, or modernized any form of expression. Such are characteristic 
 of the times, and of the mode of thinking of the writer, and could not be altered without 
 detracting from the interest felt in the perusal. 
 
 December , 1838. 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 It is conceived to be necessary, for the satisfac¬ 
 tion of the public, to prefix to this work some 
 account of the manuscripts from which it has been 
 printed, and of the manner in which they came 
 into the hands of the editor ; which we shall 
 accordingly do, interweaving therewith such sub¬ 
 sequent information as we have been able to col¬ 
 lect respecting the families and descendants of 
 Colonel and Mrs. Hutchinson. 
 
 The Memoirs of the Life of Col. Hutchinson 
 had been seen by many persons, as well as the 
 editor, in the possession of the late Thomas Hut ¬ 
 chinson, Esq. of Owthorpe, in Nottinghamshire, 
 and of Hatfield Woodhall, in Hertfordshire ; and he 
 had been frequently solicited to permit them to be 
 published, particularly by the late Mrs. Catharine 
 Macaulay, but had uniformly refused. This gen¬ 
 tleman dying without issue, the editor, his nephew, 
 inherited some part of his estates which were left 
 unsold, including his mansion-house of Hatfield 
 Woodhall. In the library he found the following 
 books, written by Mrs. Lucy Hutchinson:—1st. 
 The Life of Col. Hutchinson. 2nd. A book with¬ 
 out a title, but which appears to have been a kind 
 of diary which she had kept, and afterwards made 
 use of when she came to write the Life of Col. 
 Hutchinson. 3rd. A fragment, giving an account 
 of the early part of her own life. This book 
 clearly appears to have been Mrs. Hutchinson’s 
 first essay at composition, and contains, besides 
 the story of her life and family, several short 
 copies of verses, some finished, some unfinished, 
 many of which are above mediocrity. And, 4th, 
 Two books treating entirely of religious subjects; 
 in which, although the fancy may be rather too 
 much indulged, the judgment still maintains the 
 ascendancy, and sentiments of exalted piety, libe¬ 
 rality, and benevolence, are delivered in terms 
 apposite, dignified, and perspicuous. 
 
 These works had all been read, and marked in 
 several places with his initials, by Julius Hutchin¬ 
 son,* Esq. of Owthorpe, the father of the late 
 Thomas Hutchinson Esq. just mentioned, and son 
 of Charles Hutchinson, Esq. of Owthorpe, only 
 son of Sir Thomas Hutchinson by his second wife, 
 the Lady Catharine Stanhope. Lady Catharine 
 Hutchinson lived to the age of 102, and is reported 
 to have retained her faculties to the end of her life. 
 Some remarks made by the above-mentioned Julius 
 Hutchinson, which will be found in their proper 
 
 places in the body of the work, are declared by 
 him to have been communicated by his grand¬ 
 mother, Lady Catharine; and as this lady dwelt 
 in splendour at Nottingham, and had ample means 
 of information; as there is only one instance 
 wherein the veracity of the biographer is at all 
 called in question, and even in this, it does not 
 appear to the editor, and probably may not to the 
 reader, that there was sufficient ground for objec¬ 
 tion ; the opposition and the acquiescence of her 
 grandson and herself seem alike to confirm the 
 authenticity and faithfulness of the narrative. 
 
 Col. Hutchinson left four sons, of which the 
 youngest only, John, left issue two sons ; and 
 there is a tradition in the family, that these two 
 last descendants of Col. Hutchinson emigrated, 
 the one to the West Indies or America, the other 
 to Russia; the latter is said to have gone out with 
 the command of a ship of war given by Queen 
 Anne to the Czar Peter, and to have been lost at 
 sea. One of the female descendants of the former, 
 the editor once met with by accident at Portsmouth, 
 and she spoke with great warmth of the veneration 
 in which his descendants in the new world held 
 the memory of their ancestor Col. Hutchinson. 
 Of the daughters little more is known than that 
 Mrs. Hutchinson, addressing one of her books of 
 devotion to her daughter Mrs. Orgill, ascertains 
 that one of them was married to a gentleman of 
 that name. 
 
 The family of Mr. George Hutchinson likewise I 
 became extinct in the second generation. 
 
 Charles Hutchinson, only son of Sir Thomas ' 
 Hutchinson by Lady Catharine Stanhope, married 
 one of the daughters and coheiresses of Sir ! 
 Francis Boteler, of Hatfield Woodhall, Herts ; 
 which family being zealous royalists, and he soli¬ 
 citous to gain their favour, (which he did so 
 effectually, as in the end to obtain nearly their 
 whole inheritance), it is probable that he gave 
 small encouragement or assistance to the elder 
 branch of the family while they suffered for their 
 republican sentiments ; on the contrary, it is 
 certain that he purchased of Mrs. Hutchinson and 
 her son, after the death of Col. Hutchinson, their 
 estate at Owthorpe, which, joined to what his father 
 had given him, and what* he obtained by his mar¬ 
 riage, raised him to more opulence than his father 
 had ever possessed ; and lie seems not to have 
 fallen short of him in popularity, for he ropre- 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON 
 
 sented the town of Nottingham in parliament from 
 the year 1690, (being the first general election 
 after the accession of King William), till his death. 
 
 His son Julius returned into that line of con¬ 
 duct and connexions which was most natural for 
 one of his descent, for he married Betty, daughter 
 of Col. Norton of Wellow, of the well-known 
 patriotic family of that name in Hampshire, and 
 whose mother was a Fiennes. He seems to have 
 bestowed a very rational and well-deserved atten¬ 
 tion upon the writings of Mrs. Hutchinson, and 
 there is a tradition in the family, that although he 
 had. many children of his own, he treated with 
 kindness and liberality the last descendants of his 
 uncle, and assisted them with money to fit them 
 out for their emigration. The editor has seen a 
 written memorandum of his, expressing his regret 
 at hearing no more of them after their depar¬ 
 ture. 
 
 From the circumstance of these, the only grand¬ 
 children of Col. Hutchinson, standing in need of 
 this pecuniary assistance, from the mention Mrs. 
 Hutchinson makes of her husband’s debts, and 
 from an expression contained in that book which 
 I she addresses to her daughter Mrs. Orgill, desiring 
 her not to despise her advice, though she sees her 
 in adversity, it is highly probable that, even after 
 selling her husband’s estates, the sum to be divided 
 left each member of the family in strait circum¬ 
 stances. 
 
 The affection and well-merited esteem with 
 which Mrs. Hutchinson speaks of her brother. 
 Sir Allen Apsley, will excite an interest in the 
 J reader to know what became of him and his pos¬ 
 terity : by two marriages, and by the death of his 
 grandson in his minority, the family of Apsley 
 entirely merged in the noble family of Bathurst, 
 who have adopted the name Apsley as their second 
 title ; there are five or six of the family of Apsley 
 entombed in Westminster Abbey, near to the en¬ 
 trance of Henry the Seventh’s Chapel. 
 
 Having traced the manuscript from the hands 
 of the writer to those of the editor, in such a 
 manner as to establish its authenticity beyond all 
 doubt; the next, and that not a less important 
 point, is to remove those objections which may be 
 raised against the tendency of a work of this nature, 
 and to show that the assumption of any evil ten¬ 
 dency is groundless. 
 
 That avowed predilection for a republican go¬ 
 vernment, which is conspicuous in this history, as 
 it was in the lives of the persons who are the prin¬ 
 cipal subjects of it, may perhaps give a momentary 
 alarm ; but a little reflection will dissipate it. 
 At the time when Col. Hutchinson first entered 
 on the great theatre of life, the contest was just 
 begun between the partisans of the divine right of 
 the sovereign, and the indispensable obligation of 
 the subject to passive obedience and non-resist¬ 
 ance, on one side ; and the assertors of the claims 
 of the people to command, through their repre¬ 
 sentatives, the public purse, of the freedom of 
 debate in parliament, and of the responsibility of 
 ministers, on the other. When the sword, the 
 Ratio Ultima Regum , the last appeal of kings , was 
 resorted to by the former, and the latter gained 
 the victory, they very naturally adopted the repub¬ 
 lican system, as concluding, that persons holding 
 such opinions as the princes of the House of 
 Stuart and their adherents did, would never 
 
 concede to them their franchises, but with a full 
 intention to resume them, whenever they should 
 recover power enough to attempt it with success. 
 The event fully justified this* conclusion; and it 
 is now evident to all, that the only thing which 
 could ever give this nation permanent tranquil¬ 
 lity, and put an end to those heartburnings which 
 either openly or covertly had existed even from 
 the time of the Norman conquest, was an explicit 
 compact between king and people, which took its 
 date indeed from the revolution in 1688, but 
 obtained its consummation at the fortunate acces¬ 
 sion of the house of Brunswick, when the title of 
 the monarch, and the rights of the people, became 
 identified and established on one common basis. 
 Of this truly may be said, 
 
 Quod optanti Divum permittere nemo 
 
 Auderet, volvenda dies en attulit ultr6. 
 
 What to his vot’ry not a God dared promise. 
 
 Revolving years spontaneously produced. 
 
 No one will pretend that such an occasion was 
 within the reach of human foresight ; of course 
 the only remedy then attainable was applied to 
 the disorder of the state. Upon a fair review of 
 the contest it will be seen that what the Tory and 
 the Courtier of the present day, the friend or even 
 the flatterer of kingly power, admits as axioms, 
 were the grand desiderata of the Whig and the 
 Patriot of those times, and that what were then 
 cried out upon as daring encroachments now pass 
 as the most moderate and unquestioned claims. 
 Not to deceive ourselves then with words, nor 
 attach our minds to names instead of things, 
 although the government under which we prosper 
 be termed Imperial; yet the greater part of the 
 legislative power resting with the people and the 
 executive being vested in a chief magistrate, who 
 is under so many limitations that he seems placed 
 in that situation very much more for the common 
 weal, the public benefit, than his own ease or 
 advantage, it must be allowed to come up to Col. 
 Hutchinson’s favourite idea of a republic for all 
 beneficial purposes, and would assuredly be not 
 less acceptable to him, for that the hereditary 
 succession would be found to repress that effer¬ 
 vescence of individual ambition which it was the 
 study and the labour of his life to keep down. 
 Possessing himself, but finding not in others, the 
 virtue worthy of and essential to a republic, he 
 would gladly have taken shelter under a well- 
 limited monarchy, and of such a one he would 
 unquestionably have been a loyal subject, a vigor¬ 
 ous assertor. 
 
 The Puritanism which appears in the story, and 
 actuated the conduct of Colonel Hutchinson all 
 through life, may be accounted for on almost a 
 similar ground with his predilection for a republic. 
 
 The puritanic turn of thought and style of ex¬ 
 pression had been adopted by the vindicators of 
 religious freedom and right of inquiry, with whom 
 the champions of civil liberty naturally made com¬ 
 mon cause. Divinity as a science was a study 
 then in vogue, and seems to have tinctured the 
 conversations and writings of the greater part of 
 society. In this Mr. Hutchinson had been en¬ 
 couraged by his father, whose library subsisted at 
 his family seat of Owthorpe till about the year 
 1755, and contained a vast number of folio volumes 
 
 * In the reigns of Charles II. and James II. 
 
j MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 3 
 
 of polemical divinity. A study environed with 
 many dangers ! and which led Col. Hutchinson into 
 whatever errors he was guilty of. On another 
 hand the ministers of the established church in 
 those times preached up the prerogative in all its 
 extravagance, and endeavoured to establish jointly 
 and inseparably implicit faith in, and unqualified 
 obedience to, the church and king (still giving 
 the church the precedency) ; whilst the laymen 
 of their party practised, and even professed, a 
 total dissoluteness of life : so that those who were 
 slaves in principle, were libertines in practice ; 
 while those who were deemed rebels by the court, 
 and latitudinarians by the hierarchy, were rigoriss 
 in religion and morality. 
 
 This contrariety produced a constant and inces¬ 
 sant opposition, augmented the vehemence of an¬ 
 tipathy, fortified prejudice, and seemed almost to 
 justify bigotry. But from this (bigotry) we are bound 
 to exculpate Col. Hutchinson. The Independents, 
 to whose party, if a man of so much candour and libe¬ 
 rality can be said to be of any party, he belonged, 
 proceeded upon that principle, which, how general 
 soever it ought to be is however unfortunately 
 very uncommon, of allowing to all that liberty of 
 conscience they demanded for themselves. Ac¬ 
 cordingly they began by desiring only an act * to 
 be passed “ for taking away all coercive power, 
 authority, and jurisdiction, from bishops, extend¬ 
 ing to civil penalties,” &c. It was not till after 
 they saw the extreme pertinaciousness of the king 
 to retain the bishops as instruments at a future 
 opportunity for remounting his system of arbitrary 
 sway, and that “ the prelatical party about him 
 prevailed with him to refuse an accommodation, and 
 hazard his crown and life, rather than diminish 
 their greatness and power to persecute others,” 
 that they insisted on the abolition of the order +. 
 It was quite a different party, that of the rigid 
 Presbyterians, and peculiarly their ministers, 
 
 “ who cried out against the tyranny of the bishops 
 only that they might get the power into their own 
 hands, and, without the name, might exercise the 
 authority J of popes.” That, instead of this 
 power being irrevocably and immoveably estab¬ 
 lished over us, we are now governed by the mildest 
 church discipline in the universe, we owe to these 
 Independents ! Col. Hutchinson in particular, if 
 he had lived in times like ours, “ when bishops and 
 ministers desire only to be helpers,§ not lords over 
 the consciences of God’s people,” would either 
 have been a conforming member of the church of 
 England, or at most have only dissented from it 
 in few things, and that with modesty and modera¬ 
 tion. For it is well worthy of notice, that after 
 having suffered provocation and persecution from 
 catholic, episcopalian, and presbyterian, when 
 power came into his own hands, he treated all 
 with lenity, and to the worthy persons of all sects 
 and parties extended his protection. 
 
 We have next to consider a part of the conduct 
 of Col. Hutchinson which will be the most gener- 
 
 ally blamed, and is the least capable of defence, 
 the condemnation of Charles the First. To speak 
 of the justice of such a measure in a legal point o. 
 view would be a mockery ; nothing but the break¬ 
 ing up of the very foundations of the state, and 
 a war of its elements, could let in the possibility 
 of such a procedure. Amidst the tempest and 
 darkness which then involved the whole political 
 horizon, it savours of presumption to decide what 
 measures were right, expedient, or even neces¬ 
 sary : this much alone may safely be asserted, 
 that the king and his friends during the contest, 
 and still more after it was virtually ended by the 
 battle of Naseby, maintained such a conduct as 
 rendered his destruction inevitable ; but the re¬ 
 mark of Whitelock, p. 363, seems no less just than 
 ingenious ; “ that such an irregular and unheard 
 of business should have been left to that irregular 
 set of men, the army, who urged it on.” They 
 however, were determined to throw the odium on 
 others, or at least draw others in to share it. 
 
 Be it as it may, though some may blame, many 
 more will pity, a man such as Col. Hutchinson, 
 who found or conceived himself reduced to the 
 cruel alternative of permitting all that system of 
 liberty, civil and religious, to the establishment 
 of which he had devoted all his faculties, and was 
 ready to sacrifice his existence, to be risked upon 
 the good faith of a man whose misfortune it was 
 (to say no worse) to be environed by designing 
 and ambitious persons, who rendered all his vir¬ 
 tues abortive, and made all afraid to trust him, or 
 of signing a sentence which has since been called 
 a murder, and the undergoing it a martyrdom ! 
 
 At any rate it would be highly ungracious and un¬ 
 grateful in us, while we enjoy in our well-balanced 
 constitution the benefits derived to us from the 
 virtue, the energy, the sufferings, and even the 
 faults of our ancestors, to pass a severe censure 
 on their conduct ; for it will hardly be denied that 
 the remembrance of his father’s fate influenced 
 James the Second to yield so easy and bloodless a 
 victory to his opponents, and leave them to settle 
 the constitution amidst calm and sober counsels. 
 
 On the contrary, we are bound to ascribe many of 
 the oversights of those first founders of our liber¬ 
 ties to a precipitancy forced on them by urgent 
 circumstances, to cast a veil over their imperfec¬ 
 tions, and cherish their memory with thankfulness. 
 
 So much having been said for the purpose of 
 obviating misapprehension as to the effect of this 
 work, it may be further expected that some merit 
 or utility should be shown, to justify the editor 
 in presenting it to the public notice. Being not 
 the child of his brain and fancy, but of his adop¬ 
 tion and judgment, he may be supposed to view 
 it with so much the less partiality, and allowed 
 to speak of it with so much the more freedom. 
 
 The only ends for which any book can reason¬ 
 ably be published, are to inform, to amuse, or to 
 improve: but unless many persons of highly 
 reputed judgment are mistaken as well as our¬ 
 selves, this work will be found to attain all three 
 of them. In point of amusement, perhaps novelty 
 or curiosity holds the foremost rank; and surely 
 we risk little in saying that a history of a period 
 the most remarkable in the British annals, written 
 one hundred and fifty years ago by a lady of 
 elevated birth, of a most comprehensive and 
 highly cultivated mind, herself a witness of many 
 
 B 2 
 
 * Articles of the army, Rush worth, vol, vii. p. 731. 
 t The words of Whitelock, p. 340, where he regrets that 
 the king’s chaplains prevailed with him beyond the parlia¬ 
 ment’s commissioners or his own judgment. 
 
 X Vide Letter of Irving, laird of Drum, and his appeal to 
 Col. Overton ; Whitelock, p. 526. 
 
 § Words of Cromwell in his letter to Scots ministers, 
 Whitelock, p. 473. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 of the scenes she describes, and active in several 
 of them, is a literary curiosity of no mean sort. 
 
 As to information, although there are many 
 histories of the same period, there is not one that 
 is generally esteemed satisfactory; most of them 
 carry evident marks of prejudice or partiality; 
 nor were any of those which are now read, written 
 at or near the time, or by person's who had an 
 opportunity of being well acquainted with what 
 was passing, except that of Clarendon. But any 
 one who should take the pains, which the editor 
 has done, to examine Clarendon’s State Papers, 
 would find therein documents much better calcu¬ 
 lated to support Mrs. Hutchinson’s representation 
 of affairs than that which he himself has given. 
 Mrs. Hutchinson writing from a motive which 
 will very seldom be found to induce any one to 
 take so much trouble, that of giving her children, 
 and especially her eldest son, then about to enter 
 on the stage of life, a true notion of those event¬ 
 ful scenes which had just been passing before her 
 eyes, and which she well judged must be followed 
 by others not less interesting to the same cause 
 and persons, will surely be thought to have pos¬ 
 sessed both the means and the inclination to paint 
 with truth and correctness: in effect she will be 
 seen to exhibit such a faithful, natural, and lively 
 picture of the public mind and manners, taken 
 sometimes in larger, sometimes in smaller groups, 
 as will give a more satisfactory view to an ob- 
 | servant reader than he will anywhere else dis¬ 
 cover. He will be further pleased to see avoided 
 j the most common error of historians, that of 
 j displaying the paradoxical and the marvellous, 
 both in persons and things. But surely the use 
 of history being to instruct the present and future 
 ages by the experience of the past, nothing can 
 be more absurd than a wish to excite and leave 
 the reader in astonishment, which instead of 
 assisting, can only confound his judgment. Mrs. 
 Hutchinson, on the contrary, has made it her 
 business, and that very successfully, to account by 
 common and easy causes for many of those actions 
 and effects which others have left unaccounted 
 for, and only to be gazed at in unmeaning wonder; 
 or, in attempting to account for them, have em¬ 
 ployed vain subtilty or groundless conjecture. 
 She has likewise not merely described the parties 
 in the state by their general character, but deline¬ 
 ated them in their minute ramifications , and thus 
 enabled us to trace the springs, and discover the 
 reasonableness, of many of those proceedings 
 which had hitherto seemed incongruous and in¬ 
 consistent. 
 
 But the greater merit shall appear in this work 
 as a history, the greater will be the regret that 
 the writer did not dedicate more of her attention 
 to render it complete and full, instead of summary. 
 
 However, the most numerous class of readers 
 are the lovers of biography, and to these it has 
 of late been the practice of historians to address 
 themselves, as Lyttleton in his Life of Henry the 
 Second, Robertson of Charles the Fifth, Roscoe of 
 Leo the Tenth, and many minor writers. Perhaps 
 the prevalence of this predilection may be traced 
 to the circumstance of the reader’s thus feeling 
 himself to be, as it were, a party in the transac¬ 
 tions which are recounted. A person of this taste 
 will, it is hoped, here have his wishes completely 
 | gratified; for he will, in fancy, have lived in 
 
 times, and witnessed scenes, the most interesting 
 that can be imagined to the human mind, espe¬ 
 cially the mind of an Englishman; lie will have 
 conversed with persons the most celebrated and 
 extraordinary, whom one party represent as heroes 
 and demigods, the other as demons, but whom, 
 having had opportunity to view close at hand, he 
 will judge to have been truly great men, and to 
 have carried at once to a high degree of perfec¬ 
 tion the characters of the warrior, the politician, 
 the legislator, and the philosopher; yet to have 
 had their great qualifications alloyed by such fail¬ 
 ings, and principally the want of moderation, as 
 defeated their grand designs. He will have ac¬ 
 companied the hero of the tale, not only through 
 all the ages of life, but through almost every 
 situation in society, from the lowest that can 
 become noticeable, which Mrs. Hutchinson calls 
 the even ground of a gentleman ,• to the highest 
 which his principles permitted him to aspire to, 
 that of a counsellor of state, in a large and flou¬ 
 rishing republic; he will have seen him mark each 
 with the exercise of its appropriate grace or 
 virtue, and so completely to have adapted him¬ 
 self to each department, as to appear always to 
 move in the sphere most natural to him: and, 
 finally, to have maintained so steady a course 
 through all the vicissitudes of prosperity and 
 adversity, as enabled him, though he could neither 
 control the conduct of his coadjutors, nor stem 
 the fluctuating tides of fortune or popular opinion, 
 
 | yet to preserve for himself not only the great and* 
 inexhaustible resource of a good conscience, but 
 even the unanimous esteem of the great assembly 
 of the nation, when they agreed in no other thing: 
 he will no doubt be sensible that such a character 
 is rare, but he will perceive such a consistency 
 and harmony of parts as to make him deem the 
 whole easy of belief, and conclude that such a 
 one would be even more difficult to feign than to 
 find: he will hence be led to concur with us in 
 asserting, that it is much more efficacious and 
 conducive to improvement and to the advance¬ 
 ment of morality thus to hold forth a great ex¬ 
 ample in real life, and to elicit principles from 
 practice, than first to feign a sentiment, and then 
 actions and events to support it, as has been done 
 both by ancients and moderns, from the Hercules 
 of Prodicus to the Grandison of Richardson. Nor 
 has the skill and attention of our author been 
 confined to the portraying of her principal cha¬ 
 racter, she has equally succeeded in the deline¬ 
 ation of the subordinate ones; so that whenever 
 their speeches or actions are brought afresh before 
 our view, we need not that they should be named 
 in order to recognise the personage ; and both in 
 this department, and in that of the development 
 of the intrigues which she occasionally lays open 
 to us, we shall acknowledge the advantage of her 
 adding to the vigour of a masculine understanding, 
 the nice feeling and discrimination, the delicate 
 touch of the pencil of a female. 
 
 As to the style and phraseology, there are so 
 few prose writings of a prior or coeval date now 
 read, that we should be at a loss to point out any 
 which could have served her for models, or us for 
 a standard of comparison; nor does it so much 
 appear to us to bear the stamp of any particular 
 age, as by its simplicity, significancy, and pro¬ 
 priety, to be worthy of imitation in all times. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 5 
 
 Some expressions will be found that are un¬ 
 common, or used in an uncommon sense, but 
 they are such as are justified by classical pro¬ 
 priety, and, had her book been published, would 
 probably have been adopted and brought into 
 general use. 
 
 We conclude with expressing a confident hope 
 that the public will find this memoir to be such 
 as we first announced it, a faithful image of the 
 mode of thinking in those days of which it treats, 
 an interesting and new specimen of private and 
 public character, of general and individual bio¬ 
 graphy, and that recommended as it comes by 
 clearness of discernment, strength and candour of 
 judgment, simplicity, and perspicuity of narrative, 
 pure, amiable, and Christian morality, sentiments 
 
 at once tender and elevated, conveyed in language 
 elegant, expressive, and classical, occasionally 
 embellished with apposite, impressive, and well- 
 supported figures, it will be found to afford plea¬ 
 sure and instruction to every class of readers. 
 
 The ladies will feel that it carries with it all 
 the interest of a novel, strengthened with the 
 authenticity of real history; they will no doubt 
 feel an additional satisfaction in learning, that 
 though the author added to the erudition of 'the 
 scholar, the research of the philosopher, the poli¬ 
 tician, and even the divine, the zeal and magnani¬ 
 mity of a patriot; yet she descended from all 
 these elevations to perform, in the most exemplary 
 manner, the functions of a wife, a mother, and 
 mistress of a family. 
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE OF MRS. LUCY HUTCHINSON, 
 
 WRITTEN BY HERSELF. 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 The Almighty Author oi all beings, in his 
 various providences, whereby he conducts the 
 lives of men from the cradle to the tomb, exer¬ 
 cises no less wisdom and goodness than he mani¬ 
 fests power and greatness in their creation ; but 
 such is the stupidity of blind mortals, that instead 
 of employing their studies in these admirable 
 books of providence, wherein God daily exhibits 
 to us glorious characters of his love, kindness, 
 wisdom and justice, they ungratefully regard them 
 not, and call the most wonderful operations of the 
 great God, the common accidents of human life, 
 especially if they be such as are usual, and exer¬ 
 cised towards them in ages wherein they are not 
 very capable of observation, and whereon they 
 seldom employ any reflection ; for in things great 
 and extraordinary, some perhaps will take notice 
 of God’s working, who either forget or believe not 
 that he takes as well a care and account of their 
 smallest concernments, even the hairs of their heads. 
 
 Finding myself in some kind guilty of this 
 general neglect, I thought it might be a means to 
 stir up my thankfulness for things past, and to 
 encourage my faith for the future, if I recollected, 
 as much as I have heard or can remember, of 
 the passages of my youth, and the general and 
 particular providences exercised towards me, 
 both in the entrance and progress of my life. 
 Herein I meet with so many special indulgences 
 as require a distinct consideration, they being all 
 of them to be regarded as talents intrusted to my 
 improvement for God’s glory. The parents by 
 whom I received my life, the places where I began 
 and continued it, the time when I was brought 
 forth to be a witness of God’s wonderful workings 
 in the earth, the rank that was given me in my 
 generation, and the advantages I received in my 
 person, each of them carries along with it many 
 mercies which are above my utterance, and as 
 they give me infinite cause of glorifying God’s 
 goodness, so I cannot reflect on them without deep 
 humiliation for the small improvement I have 
 made of so rich a stock ; which that I may yet by 
 
 God’s grace better employ, I shall recal and 
 seriously ponder ; and first, as far as I have since 
 learnt, set down the condition of things in the 
 place of my nativity at that time when I was sent 
 into the world. It was on the "29th day of January, 
 in the year of our Lord 1619-20, that in the Tower 
 of London, the principal city of the English isle, 
 I was, about 4 of the clock in the morning, brought 
 forth to behold the ensuing light. My father was 
 Sir Allen Apsley, lieutenant of the Tower of Lon¬ 
 don; my mother, his third wife, was Lucy, the 
 youngest daughter of Sir John St.John, of Lidiard 
 Tregooze, in Wiltshire, by his second wife. My 
 father had then living a son and a daughter by his 
 former wives, and by my mother three sons, I 
 being her eldest daughter. The land was then at 
 peace (it being towards the latter end of the reign 
 of king James) if that quietness may be called a 
 peace, which was rather like the calm and smooth 
 surface of the sea, whose dark womb is already 
 impregnated of a horrid tempest. 
 
 Whoever considers England, will find it no small 
 favour of God to have been made one of its natives, 
 both upon spiritual and outward accounts. The 
 happiness of the soil and air contribute all things 
 that are necessary to the use or delight of man’s 
 life. The celebrated glory of this isle’s inhabitants 
 ever since they received a mention in history 
 confers some honour upon every one of her 
 children, and with it an obligation to continue in 
 that magnanimity and virtue, which hath famed 
 this island, and raised her head in glory higher 
 than the great kingdoms of the neighbouring con¬ 
 tinent. Britain- hath been as a garden enclosed, 
 wherein all things that man can wish, to make a 
 pleasant life, are planted and grow in her own 
 soil, and whatsoever foreign countries yield to 
 increase admiration and delight, are brought in 
 by her fleets. The people, by the plenty of their 
 country, not being forced to toil for bread, have 
 ever addicted themselves to more generous em¬ 
 ployments, and been reckoned, almost in all ages, 
 as valiant warriors as any part of the world sent 
 
 4 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 forth : insomuch that the greatest Roman cap¬ 
 tains thought it not unworthy of their expeditions, 
 and took great glory in triumphs for unperfect 
 conquests. Lucan upbraids Julius Csesar for re¬ 
 turning hence with a repulse, and it was two 
 hundred years before the land could be reduced 
 into a Roman province, which at length was done ; 
 and such of the nation, then called Piets, as 
 scorned servitude, were driven into the barren 
 country of Scotland, where they have ever since 
 remained a perpetual trouble to the successive in¬ 
 habitants of this place. The Britons, that thought 
 it better to work for their conquerors in a good 
 land, than to have the freedom to starve in a cold 
 and barren quarter, were by degrees fetched 
 away, and wasted in the civil broils of these 
 Roman lords, till the land, almost depopulated, lay 
 open to the incursions of every borderer, and were 
 forced to call a stout warlike people, the Saxons, 
 out of Germany, to their assistance. These wil- 
 came at their call, but were not so easily 
 sent out again, nor persuaded to let their hosts 
 inhabit with them, for they drove the Britons 
 into the mountains of Wales, and seated them¬ 
 selves in those pleasant countries which, from the 
 new masters, received a new name, and ever since 
 retained it, being called England ; on which the 
 warlike Dane made many attempts, with various 
 success; but after about two or three hundred years’ 
 vain contest, they were for ever driven out with 
 shame and loss, and the Saxon heptarchy melted 
 into a monarchy, which continued till the super¬ 
 stitious prince, who was sainted for his ungodly 
 chastity, left an empty throne to him that could seize 
 it. He who first set up his standard in it, could not 
 
 ---in it, uuuiu not 
 
 hold it, but with his life left it again for the Norman 
 usurper, who, partly by violence, partly by false¬ 
 hood, laid here the foundation of his monarchy in 
 the people’s blood, in which it hath swum about 
 five hundred years, till the flood that bore it was 
 ploughed into such deep furrows as had almost 
 sunk the proud vessel. Of those Saxons that re¬ 
 mained subjects to the Norman conqueror, my 
 father’s family descended; of those Normans 
 that came in with him, my mother’s was derived ; 
 both of them, as all the rest in England, contract¬ 
 ing such affinity, by mutual marriages, that the 
 distinction remained but a short space ; Normans 
 and Saxons becoming one people, who by their 
 valour grew terrible to all the neighbouring 
 princes, and have not only bravely acquitted them¬ 
 selves in their own defence, but have shown 
 abroad how easily they could subdue the world ; 
 if they did not prefer the quiet enjoyment of their 
 own part above the conquest of the whole. 
 
 Better laws and a happier constitution of govern¬ 
 ment no nation ever enjoyed, it being a mixture 
 °* ™ narch y> aristocracy and democracy, with 
 sufficient fences against the pest of every one of 
 those forms, tyranny, faction, and confusion ; yet 
 is it not possible for man to devise such just and 
 excellent bounds as will keep in wild ambition, 
 when princes’ flatterers encourage that beast to 
 break his fence, which it hath often done, with 
 miserable consequences both to the prince and 
 people ; but could never in any age so tread down 
 popular liberty, but that it rose again with renewed 
 vigour, till at length it trod on those that tram¬ 
 pled it before. And in the just bounds wherein 
 our kings were so well hedged in, the surrounding 
 
 princes have with terror seen the reproof of their 
 usurpations over their free brethren, whom they 
 lule rather as slaves than subjects, and are only 
 served for fear, but not for love ; whereas this 
 people have ever been as affectionate to good, as 
 unpliable to bad, sovereigns. 
 
 Nor is it only valour and generosity that renown 
 this nation ; in arts we have advanced equal to 
 our neighbours, and in those that are most excel¬ 
 lent, exceeded them. The world hath not yielded 
 men more famous in navigation, nor ships* better 
 built or furnished. Agriculture is as ingeniously 
 practised ; the English archery were the terror 
 of Christendom, and their cloths the ornament : 
 but these low things bounded not their great 
 spirits, in all ages it hath yielded men as famous 
 m all kinds of learning, as Greece or Italy can 
 boast of. And to complete the crown of all 
 their glory, reflected from the lustre of their in¬ 
 genuity, valour, wit, learning, justice, wealth, and 
 bounty, their piety and devotion to God, and his 
 worship, hath made them one of the most truly 
 noble nations in the Christian world. God having 
 as it were enclosed a people here, out of the waste 
 common of the world, to serve him with a pure 
 and undefiled worship. Lucius the British king 
 was one of the first monarchs of the earth that 
 received the faith of Christ into his heart and 
 kingdom ; Henry the eighth, the first prince that 
 broke the antichristian yoke off from his own and 
 his subjects’ necks. Here it was that the first 
 Christian Emperor received his crown ; here be¬ 
 gan the early dawn of gospel light, by Wickliffe 
 and other faithful witnesses, whom God raised 
 up after the black and horrid midnight of anti- 
 chnstianism, and a more plentiful harvest of 
 devout confessors, constant martyrs, and holy 
 worshippers of God, hath not grown in any field 
 of the church, throughout all ages, than those 
 whom God hath here glorified his name and gospel j 
 by. Yet hath not this wheat been without its I 
 tares. God, in comparison with other countries, I 
 hath made this as a paradise, so, to complete the 1 
 parallel, the serpent hath in all times been busy 
 to seduce, and not unsuccessful, ever stirring up 
 opposers to the infant truths of Christ. 
 
 No sooner was the faith of Christ embraced in 
 this nation, but the neighbouring heathens invaded 
 the innocent Christians, and slaughtered multi¬ 
 tudes of them ; and when, by the mercy of God, 
 the conquering pagans were afterwards converted’ 
 and that there were none left to oppose the name 
 of Christ with open hostility ; then the subtle ser¬ 
 pent put off his own horrid appearance, and 
 comes out in a Christian dress to persecute Christ 
 in his poor prophets, that bore witness against 
 the corruption of the times. This intestine quarrel 
 hath been more successful to the devil, and more 
 afflictive to the church, than all open wars, and I 
 fear, will never happily be decided till the Prince 
 of Peace come to conclude the controversy, which 
 at the time of my birth was working up into that 
 tempest, wherein I have shared many perils, 
 many fears, and many sorrows, and many more 
 mercies, consolations and preservations, which I 
 shall have occasion to mention in other places. 
 
 From the place of my birth I shall only desire 
 to remember the goodness of the Lord who hath 
 caused my lot to fall in a good ground, who hath 
 fbd me m a pleasant pasture, where the well- 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 7 
 
 springs of life flow to all that desire to drink of 
 them. And this is no small favour, if I consider 
 how many poor people perish among the heathen, 
 where they never hear the name of Christ; how 
 many poor Christians spring up in countries en¬ 
 slaved by Turkish and anti-christian tyrants, 
 whose souls and bodies languish under miserable 
 slavery. None knows what mercy it is to live 
 under a good and wholesome law, that have not 
 considered the sad condition of being subject to 
 the will of an unlimited man, and surely it is too 
 universal a sin in this nation, that the common 
 mercies of God to the whole land are so slightly 
 regarded and so unconsiderately passed over ; cer¬ 
 tainly these are circumstances which much mag¬ 
 nify God’s loving-kindness and his special favour to 
 all that are of English birth, and call for a greater 
 return of duty from us than from all other people 
 of the world. 
 
 Nor is the place only, but the time of my 
 coming into the world, a considerable mercy to 
 me. It was not in the midnight of popery, nor 
 in the dawn of the gospel’s restored day, when 
 light and shades were blended and almost un¬ 
 distinguished, but when the sun of truth was 
 exalted in his progress and hastening towards a 
 meridian glory. It was indeed early in the morn¬ 
 ing, God being pleased to allow me the privilege 
 of beholding the admirable growth of gospel light 
 in my days : and oh ! that my soul may never 
 forget to bless and praise his name for the 
 wonders of power and goodness, wisdom and 
 truth, which have been manifested in this my 
 time. 
 
 The next blessing I have to consider in my 
 nativity is my parents, both of them pious and 
 virtuous in their own conversation, and careful 
 instructors of my youth, not only by precept but 
 example. Which if I had leisure and ability, I 
 should have transmitted to my posterity, both to 
 give them the honour due from me in such a 
 grateful memorial, and to increase my children’s 
 improvement of the patterns they set them ; but 
 since I shall detract from those I would celebrate 
 by my imperfect commemorations, I shall con¬ 
 tent myself to sum up some few things for my 
 own use, and let the rest alone, which I either 
 knew not or have forgotten, or cannot worthily 
 express. 
 
 My grandfather by the father’s side was a gen¬ 
 tleman of a competent estate, about 700/. or 800/. 
 a year, in Sussex. He being descended of a 
 younger house, had his residence at a place called 
 Pulborough ; the family out of which he came 
 was an Apsley, of Apsley, a town where they had 
 been seated before the Conquest, and ever since 
 continued till of late, the last heir male of that 
 eldest house, being the son of Sir Edward Apsley; 
 is dead without issue, and his estate gone with his 
 sister’s daughters into other families. Particu¬ 
 larities concerning my father’s kindred or country 
 I never knew much of, by reason of my youth at 
 the time of his death, and my education in far 
 distant places, only in general I have heard that 
 my grandfather was a man well reputed and be¬ 
 loved in his country, and that it had been such a 
 continued custom for my ancestors to take wives 
 at home, that there was scarce a family of any 
 note in Sussex, to which they were not by inter¬ 
 marriages nearly related : but I was myself a 
 
 stranger to them all, except my Lord Goring, who 
 living at court, I have seen with my father, and 
 heard of him, because he was appointed one of 
 my father’s executors, though he declined the 
 trouble. My grandfather had seven sons, of which 
 my father was the youngest: to the eldest he gave 
 his whole estate, and to the rest, according to the 
 custom of those times, slight annuities. The eldest 
 brother married to a gentlewoman of a good 
 family, and by her had only one son, whose mother 
 dying, my uncle married himself again to one of 
 his own maids, and by her had three more sons, 
 whom, with their mother, my cousin William 
 Apsley, the son of the first wife, held in such con¬ 
 tempt, that a great while after, dying without 
 children, he gave his estate of inheritance to my 
 father and two of my brothers, except about 
 100/. a year to the eldest of his half brothers, and 
 annuities of 30/. a-piece to the three for their lives. 
 He died before I was born, but I have heard very 
 honourable mention of him in our family ; the 
 rest of my father’s brothers went into the wars 
 in Ireland and the Low Countries, and there re¬ 
 mained none of them nor their issues when I 
 was born, but only three daughters who bestowed 
 themselves meanly, and their generations are 
 worn out except two or three unregarded chil¬ 
 dren. My father at the death of my grandfather 
 being but a youth at school, had not patience to 
 stay the perfecting of his studies, but put himself 
 into present action, sold his annuity, bought him¬ 
 self good clothes, put some money in his purse, 
 and came to London ; and by means of a relation 
 at court, got a place in the household of Queen 
 Elizabeth, where he behaved himself so that he 
 won the love of many of the court ; but being 
 young, took an affection to gaming, and spent most 
 of the money he had in his purse. About that 
 time the Earl of Essex was setting forth for 
 Cales voyage, and my father, that had a mind to 
 quit his idle court life, procured an employment 
 from the Victualler of the Navy, to go along with 
 that fleet. In which voyage he demeaned him¬ 
 self with so much courage and prudence, that 
 after his return he was honoured with a very 
 noble and profitable employment in Ireland. There 
 a rich widow that had many children cast her 
 affections upon him and he married her ; buc she 
 not living many years with him, and having no 
 children by him, after her death he distributed 
 all her estate among her children, for whom he 
 ever preserved a fatherly kindness, and some of 
 her grand-children were brought up in his house 
 after I was born. He, by God’s blessing, and 
 his fidelity and industry growing in estate and 
 honour, received a knighthood from King J;ames 
 soon after his coming to the crown, for some 
 eminent service done to him in Ireland, which 
 having only heard in my childhood I cannot 
 perfectly set down. After that, growing into a 
 familiarity with Sir George Carew, made now by 
 the King, Earl of Totness, a niece of this Earl’s, 
 the daughter of Sir Peter Carew, who lived a 
 young widow in her uncle’s house, fell in love 
 with him, which her uncle perceiving, procured a 
 marriage between them. She had divers children 
 by my father, but only two of them, a son and 
 daughter, survived her, who died whilst my father 
 was absent from her in Ireland. He led all the 
 time of his widowhood a very disconsolate life, 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 careful for nothing in the world but to educate 
 and advance the son and daughter, the dear 
 pledges she had left him, for whose sake he quitted 
 himself of his employments abroad, and procured 
 himself the office of Victualler of the Navy a 
 place then both of credit and great revenue. His 
 friends considering his solitude, had procured him 
 a match of a very rich widow, who was a lady 
 of as much discretion as wealth ; but while he 
 was upon this design, he chanced to see mv mother 
 at the house of Sir William St. John, who had 
 married her eldest sister, and though he went on 
 his journey, yet something in her person and be¬ 
 haviour he carried along with him, which would 
 not let him accomplish it, but brought him back 
 to my mother. She was of a noble family, beina- 
 the youngest daughter of Sir John St. John, of 
 Lidiard Tregooze, in the county of Wilts; her 
 lather and mother died when she was not above 
 five years of age, and yet at her nurse’s, from 
 whence she was carried to be brought up in the 
 house of the Lord Grandison, her father’s younger 
 I brother, an honourable and excellent person, but 
 married to a lady so jealous of him, and so ill- 
 natured in her jealous fits, to any thing that was 
 related to him, that her cruelties to my mother 
 exceeded the stories of step-mothers : the rest of 
 my aunts, my mother’s sisters, were dispersed to 
 severa 1 places where they grew up till my uncle 
 fe t. Jo ' ln being married to the daughter 
 of bir Thomas Laten, they were all again brought 
 I home to them brother’s house. There were Sot 
 in those days so many beautiful women found in 
 any family as these, but my mother was by the 
 I “ ost judgments preferred before all her elder 
 Sisters, who, something envious at it, used her 
 unkmdly, yet all the suitors that came to them 
 still turned their addresses to her, which she in 
 ner youthful mnocency neglected, till one of 
 greater name, estate, and reputation than the 
 rest happened to fall deeply in love with her, and 
 to manage it so discreetly, that my mother could 
 not but entertain him, and my uncle’s wife, who 
 had a mother’s kindness for her, persuaded her 
 to remove herself from her sisters’ envy bv going 
 along with her to the Isle of Jersey/whir! he? 
 father was governor ; which she did, and there 
 went into the town, and boarded in a French 
 minister s house to learn the language, that minis¬ 
 ter having been, by the persecution in France 
 dnven to seek his shelter there. Contracting a 
 dear friendship with this holy man and his wife 
 she was instructed in their Geneva discipline! 
 which she liked so much better than our more 
 superstitious service, that she could have been 
 contented to have lived there, had not a powerful 
 passion m her heart drawn her back. But at her 
 return she met with many afflictions, the gentle¬ 
 man who had professed so much love to her, in 
 her absence had been, by most vile practices and 
 treacheries, drawn out of his senses, and into the 
 marriage of a person, whom, when he recovered 
 his reason, he hated : but that served only to 
 augment his misfortune, and the circumstances of 
 that story not being necessary to be here inserted 
 1 shall only add that my mother lived in mv 
 uncle s house, secretly discontented at this acci¬ 
 dent but was comforted by the kindness of my 
 uncle s wife, who had contracted such an inti¬ 
 mate friendship with her that they seemed to 
 
 have but one soul. And in this kindness she had 
 some time a great solace, till some malicious per¬ 
 sons had wrought some jealousies which were 
 veiy groundless in my uncle concerning his wife, 
 but his nature being inclinable to that passion 
 whichw as fomented in him by subtile wicked per¬ 
 sons, and my mother endeavouring to vindicate 
 injured innocence, she was herself not well treated 
 by my uncle, whereupon she left his house, with 
 a resolution to withdraw herself into the island 
 where the good minister was, and there to wear 
 out her life in the service of God. While she was 
 deliberating, and had fixed upon it in her own 
 resoiving to impart it to none, she was 
 ith Sir William St. John, who had married my 
 aunt when my father accidentally came in there, 
 and feU so heartily in love with her that he per¬ 
 suaded her to marry him, which she did, and her 
 melancholy made her conform cheerfully to that 
 gravity of habit and conversation which was be¬ 
 coming the wife of such a person : who was then 
 forty-eight years of age, and she not above six¬ 
 teen. I he first year of their marriage was crowned 
 with a son, called after my father’s name, and 
 born at East Smithfield, in that house of the 
 king s, which belonged to my father’s employment 
 in the navy; the next year they removed to the 
 lower of London, whereof my father was made 
 lieutenant, and there had two sons more before 
 me, and four daughters, and two sons after: of all 
 which only three sons and two daughters survived 
 him at the time of his death, which was in the 
 sixty-third year of his age, after he had three 
 years before languished of a consumption that 
 succeeded a fever, which he got in the unfortunate 
 voyage to the Isle of Rhee. x 
 
 He died in the month of May 1630, sadly be- 
 waded by not only all his dependants and relations, 
 out by ail that were acquainted with him, for he 
 never conversed with any to whom he was not at 
 some time or in some way beneficial; and his 
 
 T S S ° del !S hted in doin g good, that it won 
 him the love of all men, even his enemies, whose 
 envy and malice it was his custom to overcome 
 with obligations. He had great natural parts, but 
 was too active m his youth to stay the heightening 
 of them by study of dead writings, but, in the 
 °f ? en ’ s conversations, he soon became 
 so skiltul that he never was mistaken, but where 
 is own good would not let him give credit to the 
 e vii he discerned in others. He was a most indul¬ 
 gent husband, and no less kind to his children ; a 
 most noble, master, who thought it not enough to 
 maintain his servants honourably while they were 
 with lnm, but, for all that deserved it, provided 
 offices or settlements as for children. He was a 
 lather to all his prisoners, sweetening with such 
 cmnpassionate kindness their restraint, that the 
 affliction of a prison was not felt in his days. He 
 had a singular kindness for all persons that were 
 emment either m learning or arms, and when, 
 thiough the ingratitude and vice of that age, many 
 of the wives and children of queen Elizabeth’s 
 glorious captains were reduced to poverty, his 
 purse was their common treasury, and they knew 
 a ; nconveme nce of decayed fortunes till he 
 was dead. many of those valiant seamen he main¬ 
 tained in prison, many he redeemed out of prison, and 
 cherished with an extraordinary bounty. If among 
 his excellencies one outshined the rest, it was the 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 9 
 
 generous liberality of his mind, wherein goodness 
 and greatness were so equally distributed, that 
 they mutually embellished each other. Pride and 
 covetousness had not the least place in his breast. 
 As he was in love with true honour, so he con¬ 
 temned vain titles, and though in his youth he ac¬ 
 cepted an addition to his birth, in his riper years 
 he refused a barondry, which the king offered him. 
 He was severe in the regulating of his family, 
 especially would not endure the least immodest 
 behaviour or dress in any woman under his roof. 
 There was nothing he hated more than an insig¬ 
 nificant gallant, that could only make his legs 
 and prune himself, and court a lady, but had not 
 brains to employ himself in things more suitable 
 to man’s nobler sex. Fidelity in his trust, love 
 and loyalty to his prince, were not the least of his 
 virtues, but those wherein he was not excelled by 
 any of his own or succeeding times. The large 
 estate he reaped by his happy industry, he did 
 many times over as freely resign again to the king’s 
 service, till he left the greatest part of it at his 
 death in the king’s hands. All his virtues wanted 
 not the crown of all virtue, piety and true devotion 
 to God. As his life was a continued exercise of 
 faith and charity, it concluded with prayers and 
 blessings, which were only the consolations his deso¬ 
 late family could receive in his death. Never did any 
 two better agree in magnanimity and bounty than 
 he and my mother, who seemed to be acted by the 
 same soul, so little did she grudge any of his libe¬ 
 ralities to strangers, or he contradict any of her 
 kindness to all her relations; her house being a 
 common home to all of them, and a nursery to 
 their children. He gave her a noble allowance of 
 300/. a year for her own private expense, and had 
 given her all her own portion to dispose of how 
 she pleased, as soon as she was married ; which she 
 suffered to increase in her friends’ hands; and 
 what my father allowed her she spent not in vani¬ 
 ties, although she had what was rich and requisite 
 upon occasions, but she laid most of it out in pious 
 and charitable uses. Sir Walter Raleigh and Mr. 
 Ruthin being prisoners in the Tower, and addicting 
 themselves to chemistry, she suffered them to make 
 their rare experiments at her cost, partly to com¬ 
 fort and divert the poor prisoners^ and partly to 
 gain the knowledge of their experiments, and the 
 medicines to help such poor people as were not 
 able to seek to physicians. By these means she 
 acquired a great deal of skill, which was very pro¬ 
 fitable to many all her life. She was not only to 
 these, but to all the other prisoners that came into 
 the Tower, as a mother. All the time she dwelt 
 in the Tower, if any were sick she made them 
 broths and restoratives with her own hands, visited 
 and took care of them, and provided them all 
 necessaries; if any were afflicted she comforted 
 thefn, so that they felt not the inconvenience of a 
 prison who were in that place. She was not less- 
 bountiful to many poor widows and orphans, whom 
 officers of higher and lower rank had left behind 
 them as objects of charity. Her own house was 
 filled with distressed families of her relations, 
 whom she supplied and maintained in a noble way. 
 The care of the worship and service of God, both 
 in her soul and her house, and the education of 
 her children, was her principal care. She was a 
 constant frequenter of weekday lectures, and a 
 great lover and encourager of good ministers, and 
 
 most diligent in her private reading and devo¬ 
 tions. 
 
 When my father was sick she was not satisfied 
 with the attendance of all that were about him, but 
 made herself his nurse, and cook, and physician, 
 and, through the blessing of God and her inde¬ 
 fatigable labours and watching, preserved him a 
 great while longer than the physicians thought it 
 possible for his nature to hold out. At length, 
 when the Lord took him to rest, she showed as 
 much humility and patience, under that great 
 change, as moderation and bounty in her more 
 plentiful and prosperous condition, and died in my 
 house at Owthorpe, in the county of Nottingham, 
 in the year 1659. The privilege of being born 
 of and educated by such excellent parents, I. have 
 often revolved with great thankfulness for the 
 mercy, and humiliation that I did no more improve 
 it. After my mother had had three sons, she was 
 very desirous of a daughter, and when the women 
 at my birth told her I was one, she received me 
 with a great deal of joy; and the nurses fancying, 
 because I had more complexion and favour than 
 is usual in so young children, that I should not 
 live, my mother became fonder of me, and more 
 endeavoured to nurse me. As soon as I was 
 weaned, a French-woman was taken to be my dry 
 nurse, and I was taught to speak French and 
 English together. My mother, while she was with 
 child of me, dreamed that she was walking in the 
 garden with my father, arid that a star came down 
 into her hand, with other circumstances, which, 
 though I have often heard, I minded not enough 
 to remember perfectly; only my father told her, 
 her dream signified she should have a daughter of 
 some extraordinary eminency; which thing, like 
 such vain prophecies, wrought as far as it could 
 its own accomplishment,* for my father and mo¬ 
 ther fancying me then beautiful, and more than 
 ordinarily apprehensive, applied all their cares, 
 and spared no cost to improve me in my education, 
 which procured me the admiration of those that 
 flattered my parents. By that time I was four 
 years old I read English perfectly, and having a 
 great memory, I was carried to sermons, and 
 while I was very young could remember and 
 repeat them exactly, and being caressed, the love 
 of praise tickled me, and made me attend more 
 heedfully. When I was about seven years of age, 
 I remember I had at one time eight tutors in 
 sev eral qualities, languages, music, dancing, writing, 
 and needle-work, but my genius was quite averse 
 from all but my book, and that I was so eager of, 
 that my mother, thinldng it prejudiced my health, 
 would moderate me in it; yet this rather animated 
 me than kept me back, and every moment I 
 could steal from my play, I would employ in any 
 book I could find, when my own were locked 
 
 * This is an ingenious way of accounting for the fulfil¬ 
 ment of superstitious predictions and expectations, which 
 might frequently with close attention be traced to their 
 source, as is here done. It is clear that in the present case 
 it occasioned a peculiar care to be taken of her education ; 
 and this again caused her mind and disposition to take 
 that singular stamp which attracted the notice of Mr. Hut¬ 
 chinson, and led her to the highest situation that she could 
 wish for, that of the lady of a counsellor of state in her 
 beloved, but short-lived republic. When the reader shall 
 have followed her to the end of her labours, let him judge 
 whether there could be aoy situation to which she was not 
 adequate. 
 
10 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 up from me. After dinner and supper, I still 
 had an hour allowed me to play, and then I would 
 steal into some hole or other to read. My father 
 would have me learn Latin, and I was so apt that 
 I outstripped my brothers who were at school, 
 although my father’s chaplain, that was my tutor, 
 was a pitiful dull fellow. My brothers, who had a 
 great deal of wit, had some emulation at the progress 
 I made in my learning, which very well pleased my 
 father, though my mother would have been con¬ 
 tented, had I not so wholly addicted myself to that 
 as to neglect my other qualities : as for music and 
 dancing, I profited very little in them, and would 
 never practice my lute or harpsichords but when 
 my masters were with me ; and for my needle, I 
 absolutely hated it; play among other children I 
 despised, and when I was forced to entertain such 
 as came to visit me, I tired them with more grave 
 instructions than their mothers, and plucked all 
 their babies to pieces, and kept the children in 
 such awe, that they were glad when I entertained 
 myself with elder company, to whom I was verv 
 acceptable; and living in the house with many 
 persons that had a great deal of wit; and very 
 profitable serious discourses being frequent at my 
 father’s table, and in my mother’s drawing-room, I 
 was very attentive to all, and gatheredup things that 
 
 I would utter again to great admiration of many 
 
 that took my memory and imitation for wit. It 
 pleased God that through the good instructions of 
 my mother, and the sermons she carried me to, 
 
 I was convinced that the knowledge of God was 
 the most excellent study, and accordingly applied 
 myself to it, and to practice as I was taught: I 
 used to exhort my mother’s maids much, and to 
 turn their idle discourses to good subjects ; but I 
 thought, when I had done this on the Lord’s day, 
 and every day performed my due tasks of reading 
 and praying, that then I was free to any thing 
 that was not sin, for I was not at that time con¬ 
 vinced of the vanity of conversation which was 
 not scandalously wicked. I thought it no sin to 
 learn or hear witty songs and amorous sonnets or 
 poems, and twenty things of that kind, wherein I 
 was so apt that I became the confident in all the 
 loves that were managed among my mother’s 
 young women, and there was none of them but 
 had many lovers, and some particular friends be¬ 
 loved above the rest; among these I have* * * 
 
 * * * * * * * 
 
 Five years after me my mother had a daughter 
 that she nursed at her own breast, and was infi¬ 
 nitely fond of above all the rest, and I being of 
 too serious attemper was not so pleasing to myj 
 
 ******* 
 
 MRS. HUTCHINSON 
 
 CONCERNING 1 
 
 TO MY CHILDREN. 
 
 They who doat on mortal excellencies, when by 
 | the inevitable fate of all things frail, their adored 
 idols are taken from them, may let loose the winds 
 of passion to bring in a flood of sorrow ; whose 
 ebbing tides carry away the dear memory of what 
 they have lost; and when comfort is essayed to 
 such mourners, commonly all objects are removed 
 out of their view, which may with their remem¬ 
 brance renew the grief ; and in time these reme¬ 
 dies succeed, when oblivion’s curtain is by degrees 
 drawn over the dead face, and things less lovely 
 are liked, while they are not viewed together with 
 that which was most excellent; but I that am 
 under a command not to grieve at the common 
 rate of desolate women*, while I am studying | 
 which way to moderate my woe, and if it were 
 possible, to augment my love, can for the present, 
 find out none more just to your dear father, nor 
 consolatory to myself, than the preservation of his 
 memory, which I need not gild with such flattering 
 commendations as the hired preachers do equally 
 give to the truly and titularly honourable ; a naked 
 
 TO HER CHILDREN, 
 
 'HEIR FATHER. 
 
 undressed narrative, speaking the simple truth of 
 him, will deck him with more substantial glory, 
 than all the panegyrics the best pens could ever 
 consecrate to the virtues of the best men. 
 
 Indeed that resplendent body of light, which 
 the beginning and ending of his life made up, to 
 discover the deformities of this wicked age, and 
 to instruct the erring children of this generation, 
 will through my apprehension and expression shine 
 as under a very thick cloud, which will obscure 
 much of their lustre ; but there is need of this 
 medium to this world’s weak eyes, which I fear 
 hath but few people in it so virtuous as can believe, 
 because they find themselves so short, any other 
 could make so large a progress in the race of piety, 
 honour, and virtue : but t am almost stopped before 
 
 I set forth to trace his steps ; finding the number of 
 them by which he still outwent himself more than 
 my unperfect arithmetic can count, and the exact 
 figure of them such as my unskilful pen cannot 
 describe. I fear to injure that memory which I 
 would honour, and to disgrace his name with a 
 poor monument; but when I have beforehand 
 laid this necessary caution, and ingenuously con¬ 
 fessed, that through my inability either to receive or 
 administer much of that wealthy stock of his glory 
 that I was intrusted with for the benefit of all, 
 and particularly his own posterity, I must with¬ 
 hold a great part from them, I hope I shall be 
 pardoned for drawing an imperfect image of him, 
 
 * Th e command of her husband at his.death. It will 
 he readily admitted that she does indeed not grieve afters 
 any common rate, but with that noble sorrow which raises* 
 instead of depressing the soul: it would be an affront to] 
 the reader’s taste to point out the beauties of this dirge; 
 but it is only a just commendation of our authoress’s judg¬ 
 ment and modesty to observe, that having shown her 
 ability to ornament and embellish, she confines herself to 
 such occasions as are most suitable, and employs the great- , 
 est simplicity in her narrative. 
 
 t At this place is a great chasm, many leaves being torn 
 out apparently by the writer herself, 
 t Here the story of herself abruptly ends. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 11 
 
 especially when even the rudest draught that 
 endeavours to counterfeit him, will have much 
 delightful loveliness in it. 
 
 Let not excess of love and delight in the stream 
 make us forget the fountain, he and all his excel¬ 
 lencies came from God, and flowed back into their 
 own spring ; there let us seek them, thither let 
 us hasten after him ; there having found him, 
 let us cease to bewail among the dead that which 
 is risen, or rather was immortal ; his soul con¬ 
 versed with God so much when he was here, that 
 it rejoices to be now eternally freed from inter¬ 
 ruption in that blessed exercise ; his virtues were 
 recorded in heaven’s annals, and can never perish, 
 by them he yet teaches us and all those to whose 
 knowledge they shall arrive : ’tis only his fetters, 
 his sins, his infirmities, his diseases, that are dead, 
 never to revive again, nor would we have them ; 
 they were his enemies and ours; by faith in Christ 
 | he vanquished them : our conjunction, if we had 
 | any with him, was indissoluble, if we were knit 
 together by one spirit into one body of Christ, we 
 are so still, if we were mutually united in one love of 
 God, good men, and goodness, we are so still; what 
 is it then we wail in his remove ? the distance ! faith¬ 
 less fools! sorrow only makes it; let us but ascend 
 to God in holy joy for the great grace given his 
 poor servant, and he is there with us. He is only 
 removed from the malice of his enemies, for 
 which we should not express love to him in being 
 afflicted, we may mourn for ourselves that we come 
 so tardily after him, that we want his guide and 
 assistance in our way, and yet if our tears did not 
 put out our eyes we should see him even in hea¬ 
 ven, holding forth his flaming lamp of virtuous 
 examples and precepts to light us through the dark 
 world. It is time that I let in to your knowledge 
 that splendour which while it cheers and enlightens 
 your heavy senses, let us remember to give all his 
 and all our glory to God alone, who is the father 
 and fountain of all light and excellence. 
 
 Desiring, if my treacherous memory have not 
 j lost the dearest treasure that ever I committed to 
 | its trust, to relate to you his holy, virtuous, 
 honourable life, I would put his picture in the 
 front of his book, but my unskilful hand will in¬ 
 jure him. Yet to such of you as have not seen 
 him to remember his person, I leave this— 
 
 EI8 DESCRIPTION. 
 
 He was of a middle stature, of a slender and 
 exactly well-proportioned shape in all parts, his 
 I complexion fair, his hair of light brown, very 
 I thick set in his youth, softer than the finest silk, 
 curling into loose great rings at the ends, his eyes 
 of a lively grey, well-shaped and full of life and 
 vigour, graced with many becoming motions, his 
 ' visage thin, his mouth well-made, and his lips very 
 i ruddy and graceful, although the nether chap shut 
 over the upper, yet it was in such a manner as 
 wns not unbecoming, his teeth were even and 
 white as the purest ivory, his chin was something 
 long, and the mould of his face; his forehead was 
 not very high, his nose was raised and sharp, but 
 withal he had a most amiable countenance, which 
 carried in it something of magnanimity and 
 majesty mixed with sweetness, that at the same 
 time bespoke love and awe in all that saw him ; 
 his skin was smooth and white, his legs and feet 
 excellently well-made, he was quick in his pace 
 
 and turns, nimble and active, and graceful in all 
 his motions, he was apt for any bodily exercise, 
 and any that he did became him ; he could dance 
 admirably well, but neither in youth nor riper 
 years made any practice of it; he had skill in fenc¬ 
 ing such as became a gentleman ; he had a great 
 love to music, and often diverted himself with a 
 viol, on which he played masterly; he had an exact 
 ear and judgment in other music ; he shot excel¬ 
 lently in bows and guns, and much used them for 
 his exercise ; he had great judgment in paintings, 
 graving, sculpture, and all liberal arts, and had 
 many curiosities of value in all kinds ; he took 
 great delight in perspective glasses, and for his 
 other rarities was not so much affected with the 
 antiquity as the merit of the work—he took much 
 pleasure in improvement of grounds, in planting 
 groves and walks, and fruit-trees, in opening 
 springs, and making fish-ponds *; of country re¬ 
 creations he loved none but hawking, and in that 
 was very eager and much delighted for the time 
 he used it, but soon left it off; he was wonderfully 
 neat, cleanly and genteel in his habit, and had a 
 very good fancy in it, but he left off very early 
 the wearing of anything that was costly, yet in his 
 plainest negligent habit appeared very much a 
 gentleman ; he had more address than force of 
 body, yet the courage of his soul so supplied his 
 members that he never wanted strength when he 
 found occasion to employ it ; his conversation was 
 very pleasant, for he was naturally cheerful, had 
 a ready wit and apprehension ; he was eager in 
 every thing he did, earnest in dispute, but withal 
 very rational, so that he was seldom overcome ; 
 every thing that it was necessary for him to do, he 
 did with delight, free, and unconstrained ; he hated 
 ceremonious compliment, but yet had a natural 
 civility and complaisance to all people ; he was of 
 a tender constitution, but through the vivacity of 
 his spirit could undergo labours, watchings, and 
 journeys, as well as any of stronger compositions ; 
 he was rheumatic, and had a long sickness and 
 distemper occasioned thereby two or three years 
 after the war ended, but else for the latter half of 
 his life was healthy, though tender : in his youth 
 and childhood he was sickly, much troubled with 
 weakness and tooth-aches, but then his spirits 
 carried him through them ; ho was very patient 
 under sickness or pain or any common accidents, 
 but yet upon occasions, though never without just 
 ones, he would be very angry, and had even in 
 that such a grace as made him to be feared, yet he 
 was never outrageous in passion ; he had a very 
 good faculty in persuading, and would speak very 
 well, pertinently and effectually without premedi¬ 
 tation upon the greatest occasions that could be 
 offered, for indeed his judgment was so nice, that 
 he could never frame any speech before-hand to 
 please himself, but his invention was so ready, and 
 wisdom so habitual in all his speeches, that he 
 never had reason to repent himself of speaking 
 at any time without ranking the words before¬ 
 hand ; he was not talkative yet free of discourse, of 
 a very spare diet, not much given to sleep, an early 
 riser when in health ; he never was at any time 
 idle, and hated to see any one else ; so in all his 
 natural and ordinary inclinations and composure, 
 there was something extraordinary and tending 
 
 * Many traces of his taste, judgment, and industry, in 
 each of these, were to bo seen at the distance of 140 years. 
 

 12 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE 
 
 OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 to virtue, beyond what I can describe, or can be 
 
 gathered from a bare dead description ; there was 
 a life of spirit and power in him that is not to be 
 found m any copy drawn from him : to sum up 
 therefore all that can be said of his outward frame 
 and disposition, we must truly conclude, that it 
 was a very handsome and well furnished lodging 
 prepared for the reception of that prince, who in 
 the administration of all excellent virtues reigned 
 there awhile, till he was called back to the palace 
 of the universal emperor. 
 
 HIS VIRTUES. 
 
 To number his virtues, is to give the epitome 
 of Ins life which was nothing else but a progress 
 from one degree of virtue to another, till in a 
 short time he arrived to that height, which many 
 longer lives could never reach, and had I but the 
 power of rightly disposing and relating them, his 
 single example would be more instructive than 
 all the rules of the.best moralists, for his practice 
 was of a more divine extraction, drawn from the 
 word of God, and wrought up by the assistance 
 of his Spirit; therefore in the head of all his 
 virtues, I shall set that which was the head and 
 spring of them all, his Christianity—for this alone 
 is the true royal blood that runs through the 
 whole body of virtue, and every pretender to that 
 glorious family, who hath no tincture of it, is an 
 imposter and a spurious brat. This is that sacred 
 fountain which baptizeth all the gentile virtues, 
 that so immortalize the names of Cicero, Plutarch 
 Seneca, and all the old philosophers ; herein they 
 are regenerated and take a new name and nature: 
 digged up in the wilderness of nature, and dipped 
 in this living spring, they are planted and flourish 
 m the paradise of God. 
 
 By Christianity I intend that universal habit of 
 grace which is wrought in a soul by the regene¬ 
 rating Spirit of God, whereby the whole creature 
 is resigned up into the divine will and love, and 
 all its actions designed to the obedience and glory 
 of its Maker. As soon as he had improved his 
 natural understanding with the acquisition of 
 learning, the first studies he exercised himself in 
 were principles of religion, and the first know¬ 
 ledge he laboured for was a knowledge of God 
 which by a diligent examination of the Scripture’ 
 and the several doctrines of great men pretending 
 that ground, lie at length obtained.—Afterward 
 when he had laid a sure and orthodox foundation 
 in the doctrine of the free grace of God given us 
 by Jesus Christ, he began to survey the super- 
 S + tr ^ UreS ,’ and to discover much of the hay and 
 stubble of man’s inventions in God’s worship, 
 which his spirit burnt up in the day of their 
 trial. His faith being established in the truth, 
 he was full of love to God and all his saints. He 
 hated persecution for religion, and was always a 
 champion for all religious people against all their 
 great oppressors. He detested all scoffs at any 
 practice of worship, though such a one as he was 
 not persuaded of. Whatever he practised in 
 religion was neither for faction nor advantage, 
 but contrary to it, and purely for conscience’ sake! 
 
 As he hated outsides in religion, so could he 
 worse endure those apostacies and those denials 
 of the Lord and base compliances with his adver¬ 
 saries, which timorous men practise under the 
 name of prudent and just condescensions to avoid ; 
 
 s Persecution. Christianity being in him as the 
 
 1 fountain of all his virtues, and diffusing itself into 
 
 1 evei ’y stream, that of his prudence falls into the 
 next mention. He from a child was wise, and 
 sought to by many that might have been his 
 lathers for counsel, which he could excellently 
 give to himself and others, and whatever cross 
 event m any of his affairs may give occasion to 
 tools to overlook the wisdom of the design, yet he 
 had as great a foresight, as strong a judgment, as 
 clear an apprehension of men and things as no 
 man more. He had rather a firm impression 
 than a great memory, yet he was forgetful of 
 nothing but injuries. His own integrity made 
 him credulous of other men’s, till reason and ex¬ 
 perience convinced him, and as unapt to believe 
 cautions which could not be received without 
 entertaining ill opinions of men, yet he had wis¬ 
 dom enough never to commit himself to a traitor, 
 though he was once wickedly betrayed by friends 
 whom necessity and not mistake forced him to 
 trust*. He was as ready to hear as to give 
 counsel, and never pertinacious in his will when 
 his reason was convinced. There was no opinion 
 which he was most settled in, either concerning 
 divine or human things, but he would patiently 
 and impartially hear it debated. In matters of 
 taith his reason always submitted to the word of 
 God, and what he could not comprehend he would 
 believe because it was written, but in all other 
 things, the greatest names in the world could 
 never lead him without reason : he would delibe¬ 
 rate when there was time, but never lost an 
 opportunity of anything that was to be done by 
 tedious dispute. He would hear as well as speak, 
 and yet never spoke impertinently or unseason¬ 
 ably. He very well understood himself his own 
 advantages, natural parts, gifts, and acquirements, 
 yet so as neither to glory of them to others, nor 
 over-value himself for them, for he had an ex- 
 cefient virtuous modesty, which shut out all vanity 
 ol mind, and yet admitted that true understanding 
 ot himself which was requisite for the best im¬ 
 provement of all his talents; he no less under¬ 
 stood and was more heedful to remark his defects, 
 imperfections, and disadvantages, but that too 
 only to excite his circumspection concerning 
 them, not to damp his spirit in any noble enter¬ 
 prise. He had a noble spirit of government, both 
 - «vil, military, and domestic administrations, 
 which forced even from unwilling subjects a love 
 and reverence of him, and endeared him to the 
 xjt! rejoiced to be governed by him. 
 
 He had a native majesty that struck an awe of 
 him into the hearts of men, and a sweet greatness 
 that commanded love. He had a clear discerning 
 o rnen s spirits, and knew how to give every one 
 their just weight, he contemned none that were 
 not wicked, in whatever low degree of nature or 
 fortune they were otherwise: wherever he saw 
 wisdom, learning, or other virtues in men, he 
 honoured them highly, and admired them to their 
 tuli rate, but never gave himself blindly up to 
 the conduct of the greatest master. Love itself, 
 which was as powerful in his as in any soul, rather 
 
 * It is not known what peculiar transaction this refers 
 to, though it may be conjectured to refer to the false : ' 
 protestations of Monk and Sir Ashley Cooper at the 
 Restoration ; whom he and many others trusted much 
 against their will. I 
 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 J3 
 
 quickened than blinded the eyes of his judgment 
 in discerning the imperfections of those that were 
 most dear to him. His soul ever reigned as king 
 in the internal throne, and never was captive to 
 his sense; religion and reason, its two favoured 
 counsellors, took order that all the passions kept 
 within their own just bounds, there did him good 
 service, and furthered the public weal. He found 
 such felicity in that proportion of wisdom that he 
 enjoyed, as he was a great lover of that which 
 advanced it, learning and the arts, which he not 
 only honoured in others, but had by his industry 
 arrived to be himself a far greater scholar than 
 is absolutely requisite for a gentleman. He had 
 many excellent attainments, but he no less evi¬ 
 denced his wisdom in knowing how to rank and 
 use them, than in gaining them. He had wit 
 enough to have been subtile and cunning, but he 
 so abhorred dissimulation that I cannot say he 
 was either. Greatness of courage would not 
 suffer him to put on a vizard, to secure him from 
 any, to retire into the shadow of privacy and 
 silence was all his prudence could effect in him. 
 It will be as hard to say which was the pre¬ 
 dominant virtue in him, as which is so in its own 
 nature. He was as excellent in justice as in 
 wisdom—the greatest advantage, nor the greatest 
 danger, nor the dearest interest or friend in the 
 world, could not prevail oil him to pervert justice 
 even to an enemy. He never professed the thing 
 he intended not, nor promised what he believed 
 out of his own power, nor failed the performance 
 of anything that was in his power to fulfil. Never 
 fearing anything he could suffer for the truth, he 
 never at any time would refrain a true or give a 
 false witness ; he loved truth so much that he 
 hated even sportive lies and gulleries. He was 
 so just to his own honour that he many times 
 forbore things lawful and delightful to him, rather 
 than he would give any one occasion of scandal. 
 Of all lies he most hated hypocrisy in religion, 
 either to comply with changing governments or 
 persons, without a real persuasion of conscience, 
 or to practise holy things to get the applause of 
 men or any advantage.—As in religion so in 
 friendship, he never professed love when he had 
 it not, nor disguised hate or aversion, which 
 indeed he never had to any party or person, but 
 to their sins: and loved even his bitterest enemies 
 so well, that I am witness how his soul mourned 
 for them, and how heartily he desired their con¬ 
 version. If he were defective in any part of 
 justice, it was when it was in his power to punish 
 those who had injured him, whom I have so often 
 known him to recompense with favours instead of 
 revenge, that his friends used to tell him if they 
 had any occasion to make him favourably partial 
 to them they would provoke him by an injury. 
 He was as faithful and constant to his friends as 
 merciful to his enemies: nothing grieved him 
 more than to be obliged, where he could not hope 
 to return it. He that was a rock to all assaults 
 of might and violence, was the gentlest easy soul 
 to kindness, that the least warm spark of that 
 melted him into anything that was not sinful. 
 There never was a man more exactly just in the 
 performance of duties to all relations and all per¬ 
 sons. Honour, obedience, and love to his father, 
 were so natural and so lasting in him, that it is 
 impossible to imagine a better son than he was, 
 
 and whoever would pray for a blessing in children 
 to any one, could but wish them such a son as 
 he*. He never repined at his father’s will in 
 anything, how much soever it were to his pre¬ 
 judice, nor would endure to hear any one say his 
 father was not so kind to him as he might have 
 been, but to his dying day preserved his father’s 
 memory with such tender affection and reverence 
 as was admirable, and had that high regard for 
 his mother-in-law and the children she brought 
 his father, as he could not have been more dearly 
 concerned in all their interest if she had been his 
 ownmother—which,all things considered,although 
 they were deserving persons, was an example of 
 piety and goodness that will not easily be matched. 
 For conjugal affection to his wife, it was such in 
 him, as whosoever would draw out a rule of 
 honour, kindness, and religion, to be practised in 
 that estate, need no more, but exactly draw out 
 his example; never man had a greater passion 
 for a woman, nor a more honourable esteem of a 
 wife, yet he was not uxorious, nor remitted not 
 that just rule which it was her honour to obey, 
 but managed the reins of government with such 
 prudence and affection that she who would not 
 delight in such an honourable and advantageable 
 subjection, must have wanted a reasonable soul; 
 he governed by persuasion, which he never em¬ 
 ployed but to things honourable and profitable 
 for herself: he loved her soul and her honour 
 more than her outside, and yet he had even for 
 her person a constant indulgence, exceeding the 
 common temporary passions of the most uxorious 
 fools: if he esteemed her at a higher rate than 
 she in herself could have deserved, he was the 
 author of that virtue he doted on, while she only 
 reflected his own glories upon him: all that she 
 was, was him , while he was here, and all that she 
 is now at best but his pale shadow. So liberal 
 was he to her and of so generous a temper, that 
 he hated the mention of severed purses: his estate 
 being so much at her disposal that he never would 
 receive an account of anything she expended ; so 
 constant was he in his love, that when she ceased 
 to be young and lovely, he began to show most 
 fondness, he loved her at such a kind and generous 
 rate as words cannot express, yet even this, which 
 was the highest love he or any man could have, 
 was yet bounded by a superior; he loved her in 
 the Lord as his fellow creature, not his idol, but 
 in such a manner as showed that an affection 
 bounded in the just rules of duty, far exceeds 
 every way all the irregular passions in the world. 
 He loved God above her and all the other dear 
 pledges of his heart, and at his command and for 
 his glory cheerfully resigned them. He was as 
 kind a father, as dear a brother, as good a master, 
 and as faithful a friend, as the world had, yet in 
 all these relations, the greatest indulgence he 
 could have in the world never prevailed on him 
 to indulge vice in any the dearest person ; but the 
 more dear any was to him, the more was he 
 offended at anything that might take off the lustre 
 of their glory. As he had great severity against 
 errors and follies pertinaciously pursued, so had 
 he the most merciful, gentle, and compassionate 
 frame of spirit that can be imagined to those who 
 
 * This we shall find called in question by his mother-in- 
 law, and will be discussed in the course of the history. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 became sensible of their errors and frailties, 
 although they had been never so injurious to 
 himself. 
 
 Nor was his soul less shining in honour than in 
 love. Piety being still the bond of all his other 
 virtues, there was nothing he durst not do or 
 suffer, but sin against God ; and therefore as he 
 never regarded his life in any noble and just en¬ 
 terprise, so he never staked it in any rash or un¬ 
 warrantable hazard. He was never surprised, 
 amazed, nor confounded with great difficulties or 
 dangers, which rather served to animate than 
 distract his spirits : he had made up his accounts 
 with life and death, and fixed his purpose to en¬ 
 tertain both honourably, so that no accident ever 
 dismayed him, but he rather rejoiced in such 
 troublesome conflicts as might signalise his gene¬ 
 rosity. A truer or more lively valour there never 
 was in any man, but in all his actions it ever 
 marched in the same file with wisdom. He un¬ 
 derstood well, and as well performed when he 
 undertook it, the military art in all parts of it; he 
 naturally loved the employment, as it suited with 
 his active temper more than any, conceiving a 
 mutual delight in leading those men that loved 
 his conduct: and when he commanded soldiers, 
 never was man more loved and reverenced by all 
 that were under him, for he would never con¬ 
 descend to them in anything they mutinously 
 sought, nor suffer them to seek what it was fit for 
 him to provide, but prevented them by his loving 
 care ; and while he exercised his authority no 
 way but in keeping them to their just duty, they 
 joyed as much in his commands as he in their 
 obedience. He was very liberal to them, but ever 
 chose just times and occasions to exercise it. I 
 cannot say whether he were more truly magnani¬ 
 mous or less proud ; he never disdained the 
 meanest person nor flattered the greatest; he had 
 a loving and sweet courtesy to the poorest, and 
 would often employ many spare hours with the 
 commonest soldiers and poorest labourers, but 
 still so ordering his familiarity as it never raised 
 them to a contempt, but entertained still at the 
 same time a reverence with love of him. He ever 
 preserved himself in his own rank, neither being 
 proud of it so as to despise any inferior, nor let¬ 
 ting fall that just decorum which his honour 
 obliged him to keep up. He was as far from 
 envy of superiors as from contemning them that 
 were under him : he was above the ambition of 
 vain titles, and so well contented with the even 
 ground of a gentleman, that no invitation could 
 have prevailed upon him to advance one step that 
 way ; he loved substantial not airy honour ; as he 
 was above seeking or delighting in empty titles 
 for himself, so he neither denied nor envied any 
 man’s due precedency, but pitied those that took 
 a glory in that which had no foundation of virtue. 
 As little did he seek after popular applause, or 
 pride himself in it, if at any time it cried up his 
 just deserts ; he more delighted to do well than 
 to be praised, and never set vulgar commenda¬ 
 tions at such a rate as to act contrary to his own 
 conscience or reason for the obtaining them, nor 
 would forbear a good action which he was bound 
 to, though all the world disliked it, for he ever 
 looked on things as they were in themselves, not 
 through the dim spectacles of vulgar estimation. 
 As he was far from a vain affectation of popu¬ 
 
 larity, so he never neglected that just care that 
 an honest man ought to have of his reputation, 
 and was as careful to avoid the appearances of 
 evil as evil itself; but if he were evil spoken of 
 for truth or righteousness’ sake, he rejoiced in 
 taking up the reproach, which all good men that 
 dare bear their testimony against an evil genera¬ 
 tion must suffer. Though his zeal for truth and | 
 virtue caused the wicked, with the sharp edges of 
 their malicious tongues, to attempt to shave off 
 the glories from his head, yet his honour spring¬ 
 ing from the fast root of virtue did but grow the 
 thicker and more beautiful for all their endea¬ 
 vours to cut it off *. He was as free from avarice 
 as from ambition and pride. Never had any man 
 a more contented and thankful heart for the 
 estate that God had given, but it was a very nar¬ 
 row compass for the exercise of his great heart. j 
 He loved hospitality as much as he hated riot; he j 
 could contentedly be without things beyond his 
 reach, though he took very much pleasure in all 
 those noble delights that exceeded not his facul¬ 
 ties. In those things that were of mere pleasure, 
 he loved not to aim at that he could not attain ; 
 he would rather wear clothes absolutely plain, 
 than pretending to gallantry, and would rather 
 choose to have none than mean jewels or pictures, 
 and such other things as were not of absolute 
 necessity: he would rather give nothing than a 
 base reward or present, and upon that score lived 
 very much retired, though his nature were very 
 sociable, and delighted in going into and receiving 
 company, because his fortune would not allow him 
 to do it in such a noble manner as suited with his 
 mind. He was so truly magnanimous, that pros¬ 
 perity could never lift him up in the least, nor 
 give him any tincture of pride or vain glory, nor 
 diminish a general affability, courtesy, and civility, 
 that he had always to all persons. When he was 
 most exalted, he was most merciful and compas¬ 
 sionate to those that were humbled. At the same 
 time that he vanquished any enemy, he cast away 
 all his ill-will to him, and entertained thoughts of 
 love and kindness as soon as he ceased to be in a 
 posture of opposition. He was as far from mean¬ 
 ness as from pride, as truly generous as humble, 
 and showed his noble spirit more in adversity than 
 in his prosperous condition. He vanquished all 
 the spite of his enemies by his manly suffering, 
 and all the contempts they could cast upon him 
 were their, not his, shame. 
 
 His whole life was the rule of temperance in 
 meat, drink, apparel, pleasure, and all those things 
 that may be lawfully enjoyed, and herein his tem¬ 
 perance was more excellent than in others,in whom 
 it is not so much a virtue, but proceeds from want 
 of appetite or gust of pleasure : in him it was a 
 true, wise, and religious government of the desire 
 and delight he took in the things he enjoyed. He 
 had a certain activity of spirit which could never 
 endure idleness either in himself or others, and 
 that made him eager for the time he indulged it 
 as well in pleasure as in business : indeed, though 1 
 in his youth he exercised innocent sports a little 
 while, yet, afterwards, his business was his plea¬ 
 sure ; but how intent soever he were in anything, 
 how much soever it delighted him, he could freely 
 and easily cast it away when God called him to 
 
 * Samson and Dalilah. 
 

 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 15 
 
 something else. He had as much modesty as 
 could consist with a true virtuous assurance, and 
 hated an impudent person. Neither in youth nor 
 riper age could the most fair or enticing women 
 ever draw him so much as into unnecessary fami¬ 
 liarity or vain converse or dalliance with them, 
 yet he despised nothing of the female sex but their 
 follies and vanities ; wise and virtuous women he 
 loved, and delighted in all pure, holy, and un- 
 blameable conversation with them, but so as never 
 
 to excite scandal or temptation. Scurrilous dis¬ 
 course even among men he abhorred, and though 
 he sometimes took pleasure in wit and mirth, yet 
 that which was mixed with impurity he never 
 would endure. The heat of his youth a little in¬ 
 clined him to the passion of anger, and the good¬ 
 ness of his nature to those of love and grief; but 
 reason was never dethroned by them, but con¬ 
 tinued governess and moderator in his soul*. 
 
 THE 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN HUTCHINSON. OF OWTHORP, 
 
 IN THE COUNTY OF NOTTINGHAM, ESQUIRE. 
 
 He was the eldest surviving son of Sir Thomas 
 Hutchinson, and the lady Margaret his first wife, 
 one of the daughters' of Sir John Biron, of New- 
 sted, in the same county, two persons so eminently 
 virtuous and pious in their generations, that to 
 descend from them was to set up in the world 
 upon a good stock of honour, which obliged their 
 posterity to improve it, as much as it was their 
 privilege to inherit their parents’ glories. Sir 
 Thomas was he that removed his dwelling to Ow- 
 thorpe ; his father, though he was possessor of 
 that lordship, having dwelt at Cropwell, another 
 town, within two miles wherein he had an inheri¬ 
 tance, which, if I mistake not, was the place where 
 those of the family that began to settle the name 
 in this county first fixed their habitation. The 
 family, for many generations past, have been of 
 good repute in Yorkshire, and there is yet a 
 gentleman in that county, descendant of the elder 
 house, that possesses a fair estate and reputation 
 in his father’s ancient inheritance.^ They have 
 been in Nottinghamshire for generations; wherein 
 I observe that, as if there had been an agrarian 
 law in the family, as soon as they arrived to any 
 considerable fortune beyond his who was first 
 transplanted hither, they began other houses, of 
 which one is soon decayed and worn out in an 
 unworthy branch (he of Basford), another begins 
 to flourish, and long may it prosper.^ It is fur¬ 
 ther observable in their descent, that though none 
 of them before Sir Thomas Hutchinson advanced 
 beyond an esquire, yet they successively matched 
 into all the most eminent and noble families in the 
 country, which shows that it was the unambitious 
 
 * In this place Mrs. Hutchinson has written, “ All this 
 and more is true, hut I so much dislike the manner of re¬ 
 lating it, that I will make another assay.” And accord¬ 
 ingly she proceeds to write his character over again, but 
 it has the appearance of being much more laboured, and 
 much less characteristic, and therefore the former is 
 preferred. 
 
 At the same place is written, “ This book was written 
 by Lucy, the widow and relict of Col. John Hutchinson, 
 of Owthorp.” j ji 
 
 (Julius Hutchinson, grandfather of the Editor.) 
 
 f At Wykeham Abbey, in the county of York, where it 
 is believed they still reside. 
 
 t It stood only two generations; the last possessor, who 
 was the great-grandson of Sir Thomas Hutchinson, direct¬ 
 ing by his will the estate to be sold, and the produce given 
 to strangers. 
 
 genius of the family, rather than their want of 
 merit, which made them keep upon so even a 
 ground, after their first achievements had set 
 them on a stage elevated enough from the vulgar, 
 to perform any honourable and virtuous actions. 
 I spoke with one old man who had known five 
 generations of them in these parts, where their 
 hospitality, their love to their country, their plain 
 and honest conversation with all men, their gene¬ 
 rous and unambitious inclinations, had made the 
 family continue as well beloved and reputed as any 
 of the prouder houses in the country.§ Although 
 they changed not their titles, yet every succession 
 increased the real honour of their house. One disad¬ 
 vantage they had, that few of them were so long lived 
 as to prevent their sons from the bondage of ward¬ 
 ship, whereby they fell into the hands of wicked 
 guardians, that defaced instead of cultivating their 
 seats, and made every heir a new planter. Sir 
 Thomas Hutchinson, as I have heard, was not 
 above eight years of age when his father died, and 
 his wardship fell into the hands of an unworthy 
 person, Sir Germaine Poole, who did him so many 
 injuries, that he was fain, after he came of age, to 
 have suits with him. This so raised the malice 
 of the wicked man, that he watched an opportunity 
 to assassinate him unawares, and as Sir Thomas 
 was landing out of a boat at the Temple-stairs, in 
 London, Poole, having on a private coat, with some 
 wicked assistants, before he was aware, gave him 
 some cuts on the head and his left hand that was 
 upon the boat; but he full of courage drew his 
 sword, ran at Poole and broke his weapon, which 
 could not enter his false armour, whereupon he 
 ran in to him, resolved not be murdered without 
 leaving some mark on the villain ; he bit off his 
 nose, and then, by the assistance God sent him, 
 of an honest waterman, being rescued, he was 
 carried away, so sorely wounded that his life was 
 in some danger : but the fact being made public, 
 his honourable carriage in it procured him a great 
 deal of glory, and his adversary carried the mark 
 of his shame to his grave.|| After this, returning into 
 
 § Sir Thomas Hutchinson’s son and grandson fell no way 
 short of him in this. 
 
 || This is a singular tale, and savours almost too much of 
 the ridiculous for the gravity of an historian: however 
 Rushworth recites a story of this same man not a little 
 resembling it. In the appendix to his second volume, 
 
 “ Sir German Poole vowed revenge against a Mr. Bright- 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 the country, he there lived with very much love, 
 honour, and repute ; but having been tossed up 
 and down in his youth, and interrupted in his 
 studies, he grew into such an excessive humour of 
 books, that he wholly addicted himself to them ; 
 and deeply engaging in school divinity, spent even 
 his hours of meat and sleep among his books, 
 with such eagerness, that though he himself at¬ 
 tained a high reputation of learning thereby, and 
 indeed a great improvement in wisdom and piety, 
 yet he too much deprived his dear friends and 
 relations of his conversation. When he was 
 entered into this studious life, God took from him 
 his dear wife, who left him only two weak children; 
 and then being extremely afflicted for so deplor¬ 
 able a loss, he entertained his melancholy among 
 the old fathers and schoolmen, instead of diverting 
 it, and having furnished himself with the choicest 
 library in that part of England, it drew to him all 
 the learned and religious men thereabouts, who 
 found better resolutions from him than from any 
 of his books. Living constantly in the country, he 
 could not be exempted from administering justice 
 among them, which he did with such equity and 
 wisdom, and was such a defender of the country’s 
 interest, that, without affecting it at all, he grew 
 the most popular and most beloved man in the 
 country, even to the envy of those prouder great 
 ones that despised the common interest. What 
 others sought, he could not shun, being still sought 
 by the whole county, to be their representative, 
 
 ' to which he was several times elected,* and ever 
 faithful to his trust and his country’s interest, 
 though never approving violence and faction. He 
 was a man of a most moderate and wise spirit, but 
 still so inclined to favour the oppressed saints and 
 honest people of those times, that, though he con¬ 
 formed to the government, the licentious and 
 profane encroachers upon common native rights 
 branded him with the reproach of the world, 
 though the glory of good men, Puritanism ; yet 
 notwithstanding he continued constant to the best 
 interest, and died at London, in the year 1643, a 
 sitting member of that glorious parliament that so 
 generously attempted, and had almost effected, 
 England’s perfect liberty. He was a person of 
 great beauty and comeliness in all ages,+ of a 
 bounteous and noble nature, of clear courage, 
 sweet and affable conversation, of a public spirit, 
 
 house, shot two pistols at him out of a window, set two 
 servants on him with swords, who ran him through the 
 cloak between the arm and body, but killed him not, he 
 defending himself effectually till Sir German came on, 
 who wounded him, and for which he and another were 
 committed to the Fleet, fined 1100J.” &c. This does not 
 seem to have cured him ; perhaps the mark set on him by 
 Sir Thomas H. succeeded better. 
 
 * He was omitted only in that parliament which was 
 chosen at a time when he and other patriots were impri¬ 
 soned to prevent their being re-elected. See note, page 18. 
 
 t His picture remained at Owt-horpe, and very well justi¬ 
 fied this description, and is now in the editor’s possession 
 in high preservation. For the bounty and nobleness of his 
 nature, take this instance from Thoroton’s History of 
 Notts. “ Henry Sacheverell, Esq., being dissatisfied with 
 his only daughter for an improper marriage, left his whole 
 estate at Ratcliff upon Soar, to Sir Thomas Hutchinson, 
 his sister’s son, who willingly divided it with the disin¬ 
 herited lady.” His moiety came afterwards to Alderman 
 Ireton, being sacrificed to him through necessity by Col. 
 Hutchinson, as will hereafter be shown. 
 
 of great prudence and reputation, a true lover of 
 all pious learned persons, and no less of honest 
 plain people, of a most tender conscience, and 
 therefore declaring much for and endeavouring 
 moderation, if it had been possible in the begin¬ 
 ning of our wars that the greatest wisdom could 
 have cast on any drops of healing counsel, to have 
 allayed the furious rage of both parties. Though 
 never man was a deeper nor truer mourner than he 
 for his first wife, yet that long dropping grief did 
 but soften his heart for the impression of a second 
 love, which he conceived for a very honourable and 
 beautiful lady, who was Katherine, the youngest 
 daughter of Sir John Stanhope, of Elvaston, a 
 noble family in Derbyshire, by whom he had a 
 son and two daughters surviving him, not un¬ 
 worthy of their family. 
 
 Mr. John Hutchinson, the eldest of his sur¬ 
 viving sons, by his first wife, was born at Not¬ 
 tingham in the month of September, in the year 
 1616. That year there had been a great drought, 
 by reason of which the country would not afford 
 his father any provision for his stables, so that he 
 was forced to remove from Owthorpe, to winter in 
 the town of Nottingham, somewhat before his 
 lady’s time of account. She being in the coach on 
 her way thither, and seeing her husband in some 
 danger by reason of a mettled horse he rode upon, 
 took a fright, and was brought to bed the next 
 day, as they imagined some three weeks before her 
 time, and they were confirmed in that opinion by 
 the weakness of the child, which continued all his 
 infancy. When he was born there was an elder 
 brother in the family, but he died a child. Two 
 years and a half after this was Mr. George Hut¬ 
 chinson, his younger brother, born at Owthorpe, 
 and half a year after his birth the two children 
 lost their mother, who died of a cold she had taken, 
 and was buried at Owthorpe. She was a lady of 
 a noble family as any in the county, of an incom¬ 
 parable shape and beauty, embellished with the 
 best education those days afforded, and above all 
 had such a generous virtue joined with attractive 
 sweetness, that she captivated the hearts of all 
 that knew her: she was pious, liberal, courteous, 
 patient, kind above an ordinary degree, ingenious 
 in all things she would apply herself to, and not¬ 
 withstanding she had had her education at court, 
 was delighted in her own country habitation, and 
 managed all her family affairs better than any of 
 the homespun housewifes, that had been brought I 
 up to nothing else: she was a most affectionate ! 
 wife, a great lover of her father’s house, showing 
 that true honour to parents is the leading virtue, 
 which seldom wants the concomitancy of all the 
 rest of honour’s train. She was a wise and 
 bountiful mistress in her family, a blessing to her 
 tenants and neighbourhood, and had an indulgent 
 tenderness to her infants ; but death veiled all her 
 mortal glories in the 26th year of her age. The 
 stories I have received of her have been but scanty 
 epitaphs of those things which were worthy a large 
 chronicle, and a better recorder than I can be ; I 
 shall therefore draw again the sable curtain before 
 that image which I have ventured to look at a 
 little, but dare not undertake to discover to others* 
 One that was present at her death told me that she 
 had an admirable voice, and skill to manage it, 
 and that she went away singing a psalm, which 
 this maid apprehended she sung with so much 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 more than usual sweetness, as if her soul had been 
 already ascended into the celestial quire. 
 
 There is a story of her father and mother so 
 memorable, that though it be not altogether per¬ 
 tinent to their grandchild’s affairs, which I only 
 intend, yet I shall here put it in, since the third 
 generation, for whom I make this collection, is 
 , not altogether unconcerned in the great-grand¬ 
 father. He (the great-grandfather) was not the 
 eldest son of his father Sir John Biron, but had 
 an elder brother that had married a private gen¬ 
 tleman’s daughter in the country, and so displeased 
 his father in that match, that he intended an 
 equal part of his estate to this Sir John Biron, his 
 younger son, and thereupon married him to a 
 young lady who was one of the daughters of my 
 lord Fitzwilliam, that had been deputy of Ireland 
 in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and lived as a 
 prince in that country*. This daughter of his 
 having an honourable aspiring to all things excel¬ 
 lent, and being assisted by the great education 
 her father gave her, attained to a high degree of 
 learning and language, to such an excellency in 
 music and poetry that she made rare compositions 
 in both kinds ; and there was not any of those 
 extraordinary qualities, which are therefore more 
 glorious, because more rare in the female sex, but 
 she was excellent in them; and besides all these 
 ornaments of soul, she had a body of as admirable 
 form and beauty, which justly made her husband 
 so infinitely enamoured of her as never man was 
 more. She could not set too high a value on 
 herself if she compared herself with other women 
 of those times, yet it was an alloy to her glories 
 that she was a little grieved that a less woman, 
 the elder brother’s wife, was superior to her in 
 regard of her husband, though inferior in regard 
 of her birth and person ; but that grief was soon 
 removed by a sad accident. That marriage, 
 wherein the father had not been obeyed, was fruit¬ 
 less, and the young gentleman himself being given 
 to youthful vanity, as he was one day to go out 
 hunting with his father, had commanded some¬ 
 thing should be put under the saddle of a young 
 serving-man, that was to go out with them, to 
 make sport at his affright, when his horse should 
 prove unquiet. The thing succeeded as it was 
 designed, and made them such sport, that the 
 young gentleman, in the passion of laughter, died, 
 and turned their mirth into mourning : leaving a 
 sad caveat by his example, to take heed of hazard¬ 
 ing men’s precious lives for a little sport. The 
 younger brother by this means became the heir 
 of the family, and was father of a numerous and 
 hopeful issue. But while the incomparable 
 mother shined in all the human glory she wished, 
 and had the crown of all outward felicity to the 
 full, in the enjoyment of the mutual love of her 
 most beloved husband, God in one moment took it 
 away, and alienated her most excellent under¬ 
 standing in a difficult childbirth, wherein she 
 
 * By mistake Mrs. Hutchinson calls him lord.' The 
 person here meant was Sir William Fitzwilliam, appointed 
 governor of Ireland seven times, with the different titles 
 of Lord Justice and Lord Deputy, by that distinguishing 
 and judicious princess. A sufficient eulogy ! From him 
 descends in a direct line the present Earl Fitzwilliam. 
 Fortes creantur fortibus et bonis. The reader will most 
 likely find this episode too beautiful and affecting to 
 think it needs the apology the writer makes. 
 
 li 
 
 brought forth two daughters, which lived to be 
 married, and one more, that died, I think, as soon or 
 before it was bornf: but after that, all the art of 
 the best physicians in England could never restore 
 her understanding : yet she was not frantic, but 
 had such a pretty deliration, that her ravings 
 were more delightful than other women’s most 
 rational conversations. Upon this occasion her 
 husband gave himself up to live retired with her, 
 as became her condition, and made haste to 
 marry his son, which he did so young, that I have 
 heard say when the first child was born, the 
 father, mother, and child, could not make one-and- 
 thirty years old. The daughters and the rest of 
 the children, as soon as they grew up, were mar¬ 
 ried and dispersed. I think I have heard she had 
 some children after that childbirth which dis¬ 
 tempered her, and then my lady Hutchinson must 
 have been one of them, for she was the youngest 
 daughter, and at nine years old so taking, and 
 of such an amiable conversation, that the lady 
 Arabella + would needs take her from her parents 
 along with her to the court, where she minded 
 nothing but her lady, and grew up so intimate 
 in all her counsels, that the princess was more 
 delighted in her than in any of the women about 
 her, but when she (the princess) was carried away 
 from them to prison, my lady’s brother fetched 
 her home to his house ; and there, although his 
 wife, a most prudent and virtuous lady, laboured 
 to comfort her with all imaginable kindness, yet 
 so constant was her friendship to the unfortunate 
 princess, I have heard her servants say, even 
 after her marriage, she would steal many melan¬ 
 choly hours to sit and weep in remembrance of 
 her. Meanwhile her parents were driving on 
 their age, in no less constancy of love to each 
 other, when even that distemper which had 
 estranged her mind in all things else, had left her 
 love and obedience entire to her husband, and he 
 retained the same fondness and respect for her 
 after she was distempered, as when she was the 
 glory of her age. He had two beds in one cham¬ 
 ber, and she being a little sick, two women 
 watched by her some time before she died. It 
 was his custom, as soon as ever he unclosed his 
 eyes, to ask how she did ; but one night, he being 
 as they thought in a deep sleep, she quietly 
 departed towards the morning. He was that day 
 to have gone hunting, his usual exercise for his 
 health, and it was his custom to have his chaplain 
 pray with him before he went out : the women, 
 fearful to surprise him with the ill news, knowing 
 his dear affection to her, had stolen out and 
 acquainted the chaplain, desiring him to inform 
 him of it. Sir John waking, did not on that day, 
 as was his custom, ask for her, but called the 
 chaplain to prayers, and joining with him, in the 
 midst of the prayer, expired, and both of them J 
 were buried together in the same grave. Whether 
 
 t The twins, here mentioned as daughters, are said by 
 Thoroton to have been sons, viz. Sir John, presently herein 
 spoken of as the brother-in-law of Sir Thomas Hutchinson, 
 and Sir Nicholas, who served Charles the First with the 
 same zeal as the rest of that family. 
 
 J By the lady Arabella is here meant the lady Arabella 
 Stuart, whose romantic and melancholy story is told by 
 Rapin, vol. ii. p. 161 and 189, in the reign of James the 
 First. That mean-souled tyrant shut her up in the Tower, 
 where she died, not without suspicion of poison. 
 
 c 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 he perceived her death, and would not take notice, 
 or whether some strange sympathy in love or 
 nature, tied up their lives in one, or whether God 
 was pleased to exercise an unusual providence 
 towards them, preventing them both from that 
 bitter sorrow which such separations cause, it 
 can be but conjectured ; but the thing being not 
 ordinary, and having received it from the relation 
 of one of his daughters and his grandchild, I 
 thought it not impertinent here to insert. I shall 
 now proceed to our own story. 
 
 As soon as my lady Hutchinson was dead, her 
 brother, Sir John Biron, came over, and found 
 the most desolate afflicted widower that ever was 
 beheld, and one of his sisters, the lady Radcliffe, 
 who was the dear sister of the dead lady, scarce 
 alive for sorrow ; and indeed such a universal 
 lamentation in the house and neighbourhood, that 
 the protraction of their griefs for such a funeral 
 as was intended her, might possibly have made them 
 all as she : Sir John therefore, the next morning, 
 privately, unknown to her husband, with only her 
 own family, carried her to the church, which was 
 but the next door, and interred her without further 
 ceremony. It booted not Sir Thomas to be angry at 
 her friend’s care of him, who pursued it so far, 
 that the next day he carried away Sir Thomas, 
 lady Radcliffe, and Mr. John Hutchinson, towards 
 his own house at Bulwell, leaving Mr. George at 
 his nurse’s. But the horses of the coach being 
 mettled, in the halfway between Owthorpe and 
 Nottingham, ran away, overthrew it, and slightly 
 hurt all that were in the coach ; who all got 
 out, one by one, except the maid that had the 
 child in her arms, and she stayed as long as there 
 was any hope of preventing the coach from being 
 torn to pieces ; but when she saw no stop could 
 be given to the mad horses, she lapped him as 
 close as she could in the mantle, and flung him as 
 far as she could frtfm the coach into the ploughed 
 lands, whose furrows were at that time very soft, 
 and by the good providence of God, the child, 
 reserved to a more glorious death, had no apparent 
 hurt. He was taken up and carried to Bulwell, 
 where his aunt had such a motherly tenderness 
 for him that he grew and prospered in her care. 
 As the fresh memory and excessive love they bore 
 the mother endeared the young child to all her 
 relations at the first, so as he grew, he discovered 
 so much growing wisdom, agility, and pretty sprite- 
 fulness, had such a natural gravity without sullen¬ 
 ness, and such sweet innocence, that every child 
 of the family loved him better than their own 
 brothers and sisters, and Sir John Biron and my 
 lady were not half so fond of any of their own. 
 When it was time for them to go to school, both 
 the brothers were sent to board with Mr. Theo¬ 
 balds, the master of the free-school at Nottingham, 
 who was an excellent scholar, but having no 
 children, some wealth, and a little living that 
 kept his house, first grew lazy, and after left off 
 his school. Sir Thomas then removed his sons to 
 the free school at Lincoln, where there was a 
 master very famous for learning and piety, Mr. 
 Clark, but he was such a supercilious pedant, and 
 so conceited of his own pedantic forms, that he 
 gave Mr. Hutchinson a disgust of him, and he 
 profited very little there. At this place it was 
 that God began early to exercise him with afflic¬ 
 tion and temptation ; he was deprived of the 
 
 attendance and care he had been used to, and met 
 with many inconveniences, unsuitable to his tender 
 and nice constitution ; but this was little, for he 
 had such discretion in his childhood that he under¬ 
 stood what was fit for him to require, and governed 
 wherever he lived ; for he would not be denied 
 reasonable, and would not ask other things. He 
 was as a father over his brother, and having some 
 advantage of years, took upon him to be the guide 
 °f his youth, yet with such love, that never were 
 children more commendable and happy in mutual 
 affections : but it pleased God to strike his brother 
 with a sad disease, the falling sickness, wherein 
 Mr. Hutchinson most carefully attended him 
 while he continued at Lincoln, which his father 
 permitted him to do, for the opportunity of Dr. 
 Pridgeon, one of the best physicians in those parts! 
 When he had in vain exercised all his art on the 
 young gentleman, and that he found no success in 
 it, he advised he should return to his father’s 
 house, and be entertained with all the sports that 
 could be found to delight his mind or exercise his 
 body. Accordingly he was carried home, and had 
 a pack of hounds, huntsmen, and horses, kept for 
 him, and was something recreated, but not cured 
 thereby, till afterward it pleased God to effect 
 that cure by a young practitioner, which the ablest 
 physicians of the country could not work. The 
 separation from his brother to whom he had such 
 an entire affection, considered with the sad occa¬ 
 sion of it, was a great affliction to the elder brother, 
 who remained in a place where he had little to 
 delight him, having an aversion to his austere 
 pedantic master, and that increased by an opinion 
 that his severity had been the cause of his dear 
 brother’s distemper. 
 
 The great encouragement Sir Thomas had to 
 trust his sons in this town, was because, at that 
 time, a gentleman inhabited there who had mar¬ 
 ried his uncle’s widow, and had been his fellow- 
 sufferer in a confinement in Kent, when King 
 Charles the First had broken up a parliament to 
 the disgust of the people, and durst not trust those 
 gentlemen that had been most faithful defenders 
 of their country’s interests, to return for some 
 time to their own countries, for which they served *. 
 Of these worthy patriots Sir Thomas Hutchinson 
 and Sir Thomas Grantham, the gentleman of whom 
 I am speaking, were confined from Nottingham 
 and Lincolnshire to the house of one Sir Adam 
 Newton in Kent: the good father little thinking 
 then, that in that fatal country his son should 
 suffer an imprisonment, upon the same account, 
 to the destruction of his life and family. Sir 
 Thomas Grantham was a gentleman of great 
 repute in his country, and kept up all his life the 
 old hospitality of England, having a great retinue 
 and a noble table, and a resort of all the nobility 
 and gentry in those parts. He had only two sons, 
 whereof the eldest was a fine gentleman, bred 
 beyond the seas, according to the best education 
 
 * This piece of history is mentioned by Rapin; Sir 
 Thomas Grantham is named, but Sir Thomas Hutchinson 
 and many others not named. It appears, in Thoroton’s 
 History of Nottingham, edited by Throsby, that this con¬ 
 finement so far answered the purpose of Charles the First, 
 that it caused another to be chosen instead of Sir Thomas 
 Hutchinson, Knight of the Shire; but as soon as Sir 
 Thomas got free he was again chosen, and continued to 
 represent the county till his death. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 19 
 
 of those times ; the other was a foolish youth, 
 schoolfellow with Mr. Hutchinson, who every 
 Saturday night was fetched from school to Sir 
 Thomas Grantham’s, and returned again the 
 Monday morning. Upon the intimate friendship 
 between Sir Thomas Hutchinson and this gentle¬ 
 man, Sir Thomas Hutchinson had a lodging always 
 kept for him at Lincoln, and was very often there. 
 My Lady Grantham had with her a very pretty 
 young gentlewoman, whom she brought with her 
 out of Kent, the daughter of Sir Adam Newton ; 
 my lady’s design was to begin an early acquaint¬ 
 ance, which might after draw on a marriage 
 between her and Mr. Hutchinson, and it took 
 such effect that there was a great inclination in 
 the young gentlewoman to him ; and so much 
 good-nature on his side, as amounted to a mutual 
 respect, and such a friendship as their youth was 
 capable of, which the parents and others that 
 wished so, interpreted to be a passion of love ; 
 but if it were, death quenched the flame, and 
 ravished the young lady from him in the sweet 
 blooming of her youth. That night she died, he 
 lay in his father’s chamber, and by accident being 
 very sick, it was imputed to that cause, but he 
 himself least perceived he had any more of love 
 for her than gratitude for her kindness to him, 
 upon which account her death was an affliction to 
 him, and made that house which had been his 
 relief from his hated school less pleasant to him: 
 especially when he met there continual solicitations 
 to sin by the travelled gentleman, who living in 
 all seeming sobriety before his father, was in his 
 own chamber not only vicious himself, but full of 
 endeavour to corrupt Mr. Hutchinson, who by 
 the grace of God resisted and detested his frequent 
 temptations of all kinds. The advantage he had 
 at this school, there being very many gentlemen’s 
 sons there, an old Low-country soldier was enter¬ 
 tained to train them in arms, and they all bought 
 themselves weapons, and instead of childish sports, 
 when they were not at their books, were exercised 
 in all their military postures, and in assaults and 
 defences; which instruction was not useless, in a 
 few years after, to some of them: Col. Thornhagh, 
 who was now trained in this sportive militia, with 
 Col. Hutchinson, afterwards was his fellow-soldier 
 in earnest, when the great cause of God’s and 
 England’s rights came to be disputed with swords 
 against encroaching princes. Sir Thomas Gran¬ 
 tham dying, Mr. Hutchinson was removed from 
 Lincoln to the free-school at Nottingham, where 
 his father married a second wife, and for a while 
 went up to London with her, leaving his son at 
 board in a very religious house, where new 
 superstitious and pharisaical holiness, straining 
 at gnats and swallowing camels, gave him a little 
 disgust, and was awhile a stumbling-block in 
 his way of purer profession, when he saw among 
 professors such unsuitable miscarriages. There 
 was now a change in the condition and content¬ 
 ment of his life ; he was old enough to be sen¬ 
 sible that his father’s second love and marriage 
 to a person of such quality, as required a settle¬ 
 ment for her son, must needs be a lessening to 
 his expectation, but he was so affectionate to his 
 father that he received it very contentedly, and' 
 rejoiced in his remove, coming from a super¬ 
 cilious pedant to a very honest man, who using 
 him with respect, advanced him more in one 
 
 month than the other did in a year. This tied 
 him to no observation, nor restrained him from 
 no pleasure, nor needed not, for he was so mode¬ 
 rate when he was left at his liberty that he needed 
 no regulation. The familiar kindness of his mas¬ 
 ter made him now begin to love that which the 
 other’s austerity made him loath ; and in a year’s 
 time he advanced exceedingly in learning, and 
 was sent to Cambridge. He was made a fellow- 
 commoner of Peter House, under the tuition of 
 one Mr. Norwich, an admirable scholar, who by 
 his civil demeanour to him won so much upon his 
 good-nature, that he loved and reverenced him as 
 a father, and betook himself with such delight to 
 his studies that he attained to a great height of 
 learning, perfonned public exercises in his college 
 with much applause, and upon their importunity 
 took a degree in the university, whereof he was at 
 that time the grace, there not being any gentleman 
 in the town that lived with such regularity in him¬ 
 self, and such general love and good esteem of all 
 persons, as he did. He kept not company with 
 any of the vain young persons, but with the graver 
 men, and those by whose conversation he might 
 gain improvement. He was constant at their 
 chapel, where he began to take notice of their 
 stretching superstition to idolatry; and was courted 
 much into a more solemn practice of it than he 
 could admit, though yet he considered not the 
 emptiness and carnality, to say no more, of that 
 public service which was then in use. For his 
 exercise he practised tennis, and played admirably 
 well at it; for his diversion, he chose music, and 
 got a very good hand, which afterwards he im¬ 
 proved to a great mastery on the viol; there were 
 masters that taught to dance and vault, whom he 
 practised with, being very agile and apt for all 
 such becoming exercises: his father stinted not 
 his expense, which the bounty of his mind made 
 pretty large, for he was very liberal to his tutors 
 and servitors, and to the meaner officers of the 
 house. He was enticed to bow to their great idol, 
 learning, and had a higher veneration for it a long 
 time than can strictly be allowed, yet he then 
 looked upon it as a handmaid to devotion, and as 
 the great improver of natural reason. His tutor, 
 and the masters that governed the college while 
 he was there, were of Arminian principles, and 
 that college was noted above all for popish super¬ 
 stitious practices, yet through the grace of God, 
 notwithstanding the mutual kindness the whole 
 household had for him and he for them, he came 
 away, after five years’ study there, untainted with 
 those principles or practices, though not yet en¬ 
 lightened to discern the spring of them in the 
 rites and usages of the English church. 
 
 When he came from the university, he was 
 about twenty years of age, and returned to his 
 father’s house, who had now settled his habita¬ 
 tion at Nottingham; but he there enjoyed no great 
 delight, another brood of children springing up 
 in the house, and the servants endeavouring with 
 tales and flatteries to sow dissension on both sides. 
 Therefore, having a great reverence for his father, 
 and being not willing to disturb him with com¬ 
 plaints, as soon as he could obtain his leave he 
 went to London. In the mean time, the best 
 company the town afforded him, was a gentleman 
 of as exquisite breeding and parts as England’s 
 court ever enjoyed, one that was now married, 
 
20 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 and retired into this town, one of such admirable 
 power of language and persuasion as was not any¬ 
 where else to he found ; hut after all this, discon¬ 
 tents, or the debaucheries of the times, had so 
 infected him, that he would not only debauch him¬ 
 self, but make a delight to corrupt others for his 
 sport: some he would commend into such a vain¬ 
 glorious humour, that they became pleasantly ridi¬ 
 culous ; some he would teach apish postures and 
 make them believe themselves rare men, some he 
 would encourage to he poets and laugh at their 
 ridiculous rhymes, some young preachers he would 
 make stage-players in their pulpits, and several 
 ways sported himself with the follies of most of the 
 young men that he conversed with. There was 
 not any way which he left unpractised upon Mr. 
 Hutchinson ; but when, with all his art and indus¬ 
 try, he found he could not prevail, then he turned 
 seriously to give him such excellent advice and 
 instructions for living in the world, as were not 
 afterward unuseful to him*. There was, besides 
 this gentleman, a young physician, who was a good 
 scholar and had a great deal of wit, but withal a 
 professed atheist, and so proud, insolent, scurrilous 
 a fellow, daring to abuse all persons how much 
 soever above him, that he was thrown out of fami¬ 
 liarity with the great people of the country, though 
 his excellency in his profession made him to be 
 taken in again. There was also an old man, who 
 had been Mr. Hutchinson’s first schoolmaster, a 
 person once of great learning, but afterwards 
 becoming a cynic, yet so pleasantly maintaining 
 that kind of humour, that his conversation was 
 j sometimes a good diversion. These were Mr. 
 Hutchinson’s companions, yet, through the grace 
 of God, had not power to infect him, who, like a 
 bee, sucked a great deal of honey from these 
 hitter flowers. At that time, there was in the 
 town a young maid, beautiful, and esteemed to 
 be very rich, hut of base parentage and penurious 
 education, though else ingenuous enough : she was 
 the grandchild of an old physician, and from her 
 childhood, having been acquainted with Mr. Hut¬ 
 chinson, who used to visit her grandmother, she 
 had conceived a kindness for him, which though 
 he civilly resented +, his great heart could never 
 stoop to think of marrying into so mean a stock ; 
 yet by reason of some liking he shewed of her 
 company, and the melancholy he had, with some 
 discontents at home, she was willing to flatter 
 herself that it was love for her, wherein, when she 
 discovered her mistake, it was a great grief. How¬ 
 ever, she was, without much love on either side, 
 married to an earl’s son, and both of them, want-, 
 ing the ground of happiness in marriage, mutual 
 love, enjoyed hut little felicity, either in their 
 great fortunes or in one another J. 
 
 * Who the first gentleman was does nowhere appear. 
 
 1 he physician here meant, is Dr. Plumptre, of whom much 
 more will be said in this work. 
 
 t Resent, in English, seldom used but in a bad sense; 
 in French, ressentir is used to signify a reciprocal senti¬ 
 ment of kindness as well as unkindness. 
 
 $ It is written in the margin by Julius Hutchinson, Esq., 
 probably from the information given him by Lady Ca¬ 
 tharine Hutchinson, that this lady’s name was Martin, 
 and the gentleman who married her Mr. Pierrepont. It 
 would not have been thought worth while to inform the 
 reader of these minute particulars in a note, but for the 
 sake of pointing out the accuracy with which Mr. Julius 
 
 In the house with Mr. Hutchinson, there was 
 a young gentlewoman, of such admirable tempting 
 beauty, and such excellent good-nature, as would 
 have thawed a rock of ice, yet even she could 
 never get an acquaintance with him: wealth and 
 beauty thus in vain tempted him, for it was not 
 yet his time of love: but it was not far off. He 
 was now sent to London, and admitted of Lincoln’s 
 Inn, where he was soon coveted into the a cquaint¬ 
 ance of some gentlemen of the house, but found 
 them so frothy and so vain, and could so ill centre 
 with them in their delights, that the town began 
 to he tedious to him, who was-neither taken with 
 wine, nor game, nor the converse of wicked or 
 vain women, to all which he wanted not powerful 
 tempters, had not the power of God’s grace in 
 him been above them. He tried a little the study 
 of the law, hut finding it unpleasant and contrary 
 to his genius, and the plague that spring beginning 
 to drive people out of the town, he began to think 
 of leaving it, but had no inclination to return 
 home, finding his father’s heart so set upon his 
 second family, that his presence was hut disturb¬ 
 ance : yet his father was wonderfully free and 
 noble to him in allowance, at all places, as large 
 as any of his quality had made to them, and it 
 was very well bestowed on him, who consumed 
 nothing in vain expense, but lived to the honour 
 of his friends and family. For his diversion, he 
 exercised himself in those qualities he had not 
 had so good opportunities for in the country, as 
 dancing, fencing, and music, wherein he had great 
 aptness and address, and entertaining the best 
 tutors, was at some expense that way, and loth 
 to leave them off before he had perfected himself. 
 However, many things putting him into the 
 thoughts of quitting the town, while he was in 
 deliberation how to dispose of himself, and had 
 some reflections upon travel, a cousin-german of 
 his, a French merchant, came to visit him one 
 morning, and told him, he was immediately going 
 into France, and understanding Mr. Hutchinson 
 had some such inclination, had almost persuaded 
 him to go along with him. The only obstacle in 
 the way was, that his father could not be ac¬ 
 quainted with it time enough to receive his answer 
 before they went. While he was in this deliber¬ 
 ation, his music-master came in, to whom he 
 communicated his thoughts, and the man told him 
 it was better to go into France at the latter end 
 than the. beginning of summer, and that if he 
 pleased, in the mean time, to go to Richmond, 
 where the prince’s court was, he had a house 
 there, where he might be accommodated, and 
 there was very good company and recreations, 
 the king’s hawks being kept near the place, and 
 several other conveniences. Mr. Hutchinson con¬ 
 sidering this, resolved to accept his offer ; and 
 that day telling a gentleman of the house whither 
 he was going, the gentleman bid him take heed 
 of the place, for it was so fatal for love, that 
 never any young disengaged person went thither, 
 who returned again free. Mr. Hutchinson laughed 
 at him, but he, to confirm it, told him a very true 
 story of a gentleman, who not long before had 
 come for some time to lodge there, and found all 
 
 Hutchinson read and remarked upon this history, and the 
 full knowledge he had of all the circumstances of Col. 
 Hutchinson’s life. 
 

 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 21 
 
 the people he came in company with bewailing 
 the death of a gentlewoman that had lived there. 
 Hearing her so much deplored he made inquiry 
 after her, and grew so in love with the description, 
 that no other discourse could at first please him, 
 nor could he at last endure any other; he grew 
 desperately melancholy, and would go to a mount 
 where the print of her foot was cut, and lie there 
 pining and kissing of it all the day long, till at 
 length death in some months’ space concluded his 
 languishment. This story was very true; but 
 Mr. Hutchinson was neither easy to believe it, 
 nor frighted at the example; thinking himself 
 not likely to make another. He therefore went 
 to Richmond, where he found a great deal of good 
 young company, and many ingenuous persons, 
 that by reason of the court, where the young 
 princes were bred, entertained themselves in that 
 place, and had frequent resort to the house where 
 Mr. Hutchinson tabled: the man being a skilful 
 composer in music, the rest of the king’s musi¬ 
 cians often met at his house to practise new airs, 
 and prepare them for the king; and divers of the 
 gentlemen and ladies that were affected with 
 music came thither to hear; others, that were 
 not, took that pretence to entertain themselves 
 with the company. Mr. Hutchinson was soon 
 courted into their acquaintance and invited to 
 their houses, where he was nobly treated, with all 
 the attractive arts that young women and their 
 parents use to procure them lovers, but though 
 some of them were very handsome, others wealthy, 
 witty, well qualified, all of them set out with all 
 the gaiety and bravery that vain women put on 
 to set themselves off, yet Mr. Hutchinson could 
 not be entangled in any of their fine snares, but 
 without any taint of incivility, in such a way of 
 handsome raillery reproved their pride and vanity 
 as made them ashamed of their glory, and vexed 
 that he alone, of all the young gentlemen that 
 belonged to the court or neighbourhood, should 
 be insensible of their charms. In the same house 
 with him, there was a younger daughter of Sir 
 Allen Apsley, late lieutenant of the Tower, tabled 
 for the practice of her lute, till the return of her 
 mother, who was gone into Wiltshire, for the 
 accomplishment of a treaty that had been made 
 some progress in, about the marriage of her elder 
 daughter with a gentleman of that country, out 
 of which my lady herself came, and where her 
 brothers, Sir John St. John, and Sir Edward 
 Hungerford, living in great honour and reputa¬ 
 tion, had invited her to a visit of them. This 
 gentlewoman, that was left in the house with Mr. 
 Hutchinson, was a very child, her elder sister 
 being at that time scarcely past it, but a child of 
 such pleasantness, and vivacity of spirit, and 
 ingenuity in the quality she practised, that Mr. 
 Hutchinson took pleasure in hearing her practise, 
 and would fall in discourse with her. She having 
 the keys of her mother’s house, some half a mile 
 distant, would sometimes ask Mr. Hutchinson, 
 when she went over, to walk along with her: one 
 day when he was there, looking upon an odd by¬ 
 shelf, in her sister’s closet, he found a few Latin 
 books; asking whose they were, he was told they 
 were her elder sister’s, whereupon inquiring more 
 after her, he began first to be sorry she was gone 
 before he had seen her, and gone upon such an 
 account that he was not likely to see her; then 
 
 he grew to love to hear mention of her, and the 
 other gentlewomen who had been her compa¬ 
 nions used to talk much to him of her, telling 
 him how reserved and studious she was, and other 
 things which they esteemed no advantage ; but it 
 so much inflamed Mr. Hutchinson’s desire of 
 seeing her, that he began to wonder at himself 
 that his heart, which had ever had such an indif- 
 ferency for the most excellent of womenkind, 
 should have so strong impulses towards a stranger 
 he never saw; and certainly it was of the Lord, 
 (though he perceived it not,) who had ordained 
 him, through so many various providences, to be 
 yoked with her in whom he found so much satis¬ 
 faction. There scarcely passed any day but some 
 accident or some discourse still kept alive his 
 desire of seeing this gentlewoman, although the 
 mention of her, for the most part, was inquiries 
 whether she had yet accomplished the marriage 
 that was in treaty. One day there was a great 
 deal of company met at Mr. Coleman’s, the gen¬ 
 tleman’s house where he tabled, to hear the 
 music, and a certain song was sung, which had 
 been lately set, and gave occasion to some of the 
 company to mention an answer to it, which was 
 in the house, and, upon some of their desires, 
 read: a gentleman saying it was believed that a 
 woman in the neighbourhood had made it, it was 
 presently inquired who 1 whereupon a gentleman, 
 then present, who had made the first song, said 
 there were but two women that could be guilty of 
 it, whereof one was a lady then among them, the 
 other Mrs. Apsley. Mr. Hutchinson, fancying 
 something of rationality in the sonnet beyond the 
 customary reach of a she-wit, although, to speak 
 truth, it signified very little, addressed himself to 
 the gentleman, and told him, he could scarcely 
 believe it was a woman’s ; whereupon this gentle¬ 
 man, who was a man of good understanding and 
 expression, and inspired with some passion for 
 her himself, which made him regard all her per¬ 
 fections through a multiplying glass, told Mr. 
 Hutchinson that though, for civility to the rest, 
 he entitled another lady to the song, yet he was 
 confident it was Mrs. Apsley’s only, for she had 
 sense above all the rest; and fell into such high 
 praises of her, as might well have begotten those 
 vehement desires of her acquaintance, which a 
 strange sympathy in nature had before produced: 
 another gentleman, that sat by, seconded this 
 commendation, with such additions of praise as 
 he would not have given if he had known her. 
 Mr. Hutchinson hearing all this, said to the first 
 gentleman, I cannot be at rest till this lady’s re¬ 
 turn, that I may be acquainted with her ; the 
 gentleman replied, “ Sir, you must not expect 
 that, for she is of a humour she will not be ac¬ 
 quainted with any of mankind, and however this 
 song is stolen forth, she is the nicest creature in 
 the world of suffering her perfections to be known; 
 she shuns the converse of men as the plague, she 
 only lives in the enjoyment of herself, and has 
 not the humanity to communicate that happiness 
 to any of our sex.” “ Well,” said Mr. Hutchin¬ 
 son, “ but I will be acquainted with her ; ” and 
 indeed the information of this reserved humour 
 pleased him more than all else he had heard, and j 
 filled him now with thoughts how he should attain 
 the sight and knowledge of her; While he was | 
 exercised in this, many days passed not, but a i 
 
22 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE 
 
 OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 
 footbov of my lady her mother’s came to young 
 Mrs. Apsley as they were at dinner, bringing 
 news that her mother and sister would in a few 
 days return ; and when they inquired of him, 
 whether Mrs. Apsley was married, having before 
 been instructed to make them believe it, he smiled, 
 and pulled out some bride laces, which were given 
 at a wedding in the house where she was, and 
 gave them to the young gentlewoman and the 
 gentleman’s daughter of the house, and told them 
 Mrs. Apsley bade him tell no news, but give them 
 those tokens; and carried the matter so, that all 
 the company believed she had been married. Mr. 
 Hutchinson immediately turned pale as ashes, and 
 felt a fainting to seize his spirits in that extra¬ 
 ordinary manner, that finding himself ready to 
 sink at table, he was fain to pretend something 
 had offended his stomach, and to retire from the 
 table into the garden, where the gentleman of the 
 house going with him, it was not necessary for 
 him to feign sickness, for the distemper of his 
 mind had infected his body with a cold sweat, and 
 such a dispersion of spirit, that all the courage he 
 could at present recollect was little enough to 
 keep him alive. His host was very troublesome 
 to him, and to be quit of him he went to his 
 chamber, saying he would lie down. Little did 
 any of the company suspect the true cause of his 
 sudden qualm, and they were all so troubled at it, 
 tliat the boy then passed without further exam- 
 [ ination. When Mr. Hutchinson was alone, he 
 began to recollect his wisdom and his reason, and 
 to wonder at himself, why he should be so con¬ 
 cerned in an unknown person ; he then remem¬ 
 bered the story was told him when he came down, 
 and began to believe there was some magic in 
 the place, which enchanted men out of their 
 right senses; but it booted him not to be angry 
 at himself, nor to set wisdom in her reproving 
 chair, nor reason in her throne of council, the 
 sick heart could not be chid nor advised into 
 health; this anxiety of mind affected him so, that 
 it sent him to his bed that afternoon, which indeed 
 he took to entertain his thoughts alone that night, 
 and having fortified himself with resolution, he 
 ; got up the next day, but yet could not quit him¬ 
 self of an extravagant perplexity of soul, concern¬ 
 ing this unknown gentlewoman, which had not 
 been admirable in another light person, but in 
 him, who was from his childhood so serious and 
 so rational in all his considerations, it was the 
 effect of a miraculous power of Providence, leading 
 him to her that was destined to make his future 
 joy. While she so ran in his thoughts, meeting 
 the boy again, he found out, upon a little stricter 
 examination of him, that she was not married, 
 and pleased himself in the hopes of her speedy 
 return, when one day, having been invited by one 
 of the ladies of that neighbourhood to a noble 
 treatment at Sion Garden, which a courtier, that 
 was her servant, had made for her and whom 
 she would bring, Mr. Hutchinson, Mrs. Apsley, 
 and Mr. Coleman’s daughter, were of the party, 
 and having spent the day in several pleasant 
 divertisements, at evening they were at supper, 
 when a messenger came to tell Mrs. Apsley her 
 mother was come. She would immediately have 
 gone, but Mr. Hutchinson, pretending civility to 
 conduct her home, made her stay till the supper 
 j was ended, of which he ate no more, now only 
 
 longing for that sight, which he had with such 
 perplexity expected. This at length he obtained; 
 but his heart, being prepossessed with his own 
 fancy, was not free to discern how little there 
 was in her to answer so great an expectation. 
 She was not ugly, in a careless riding-habit, she 
 had a melancholy negligence both of herself and 
 others, as if she neither affected to please others, 
 nor took notice of anything before her ; yet, spite 
 of all her indifference, she was surprised with 
 some unusual liking in her soul, when she saw 
 this gentleman, who had hair, eyes, shape, and 
 countenance enough to beget love in any one at 
 the first, and these set off* with a graceful- and 
 generous mien, which promised an extraordinary- 
 person ; he was at that time, and indeed always, 
 very neatly habited, for he wore good and rich 
 clothes, and had variety of them, and had them 
 well suited, and every way answerable, in that 
 little thing showing both good judgment and 
 great generosity, he equally becoming them, and 
 they him, which he wore with such unaffectedness 
 and such neatness as do not often meet in one. 
 Although he had but an evening sight of her he 
 had so long desired, and that at disadvantage 
 enough for her, yet the prevailing sympathy of 
 his soul made him think all his pains well paid, 
 and this first did whet his desire to a second 
 sight, which he had by accident the next day, and 
 to his joy found she was wholly disengaged from 
 that treaty which he so much feared had been 
 accomplished ; he found withal, that though she 
 was modest, she was accostable and willing to 
 entertain his acquaintance. This soon passed into 
 a mutual friendship between them, and though 
 she innocently thought nothing of love, yet was 
 she glad to have acquired such a friend, who had 
 wisdom and virtue enough to be trusted with her 
 counsels, for she was then much perplexed in 
 mind ; her mother and friends had a great desire 
 she should marry, and were displeased that she 
 refused many offers which they thought advan¬ 
 tageous enough; she was obedient, loath to dis¬ 
 please them, but more herself, in marrying such as 
 she could find no inclination to. The troublesome 
 pretensions of some of the courtiers, had made 
 her willing to try whether she could bring her 
 heart to her mother’s desire, but being by a secret 
 working, which she then understood not, averted, 
 she was troubled to return, lest some might believe 
 it was a secret liking of them which had caused 
 her dislike of others, and being a little disturbed 
 with these things and melancholy, Mr. Hutchin¬ 
 son, appearing, as he was, a person of virtue and 
 honour, who might be safely and advantageablv 
 conversed with, she thought God had sent her a 
 happy relief. Mr. Hutchinson, on the other side, 
 having been told, and seeing how she shunned all 
 other men, and how civilly she entertained him, 
 believed that a secret power had wrought a mutual 
 inclination between them, and daily frequented 
 her mother’s house, and had the opportunity of 
 conversing with her in those pleasant walks which, 
 at that sweet season of the spring, invited all the 
 neighbouring inhabitants to seek their joys; where, 
 though they were never alone, yet they "had every 
 day opportunity for converse with each other, 
 which the rest shared not in, while every one 
 minded their own delights. 
 
 They had not six weeks enjoyed this peace, but 
 
 
 
 
f 
 
 the young men and women, who saw them allow 
 each other that kindness which they did not afford 
 commonly to others, first began to grow 'jealous 
 and envious at it, and after to use all the malicious 
 practices they could invent to break the friendship. 
 Among the rest, that gentleman who at the first 
 had so highly commended her to Mr. Hutchinson, 
 now began to caution him against her, and to dis¬ 
 parage her, with such subtle insinuations, as would 
 have ruined any love, less constant and honour¬ 
 able than his. The women, with witty spite, re¬ 
 presented all her faults to him, which chiefly ter¬ 
 minated in the negligence of her dress and habit, 
 and all womanish ornaments, giving herself wholly 
 up to study and writing. Mr. Hutchinson, who 
 had a very sharp and pleasant wit, retorted all 
 their malice with such just reproofs of their idle¬ 
 ness and vanity, as made them hate her who, 
 without affecting it, had so engaged such a person 
 in her protection, as they with all their arts could 
 not catch. He in the meanwhile prosecuted his 
 love, with so much discretion, duty, and honour, 
 that at the length, through many difficulties, he 
 accomplished his design. I shall pass by all the 
 little amorous relations, which if I would take the 
 I pains to relate, would make a true history of a 
 more handsome management of love than the best 
 romances describe : for these are to be forgotten 
 as the vanities of youth, not worthy mention among 
 the greater transactions of his life. There is this 
 only to be recorded, that never was there a passion 
 more ardent and less idolatrous; he loved her 
 better than his life, with inexpressible tenderness 
 and kindness, had a most high obliging esteem of 
 her, yet still considered honour, religion, and duty, 
 
 I above her, nor ever suffered the intrusion of such 
 
 I a dotage as should blind him from marking her 
 
 imperfections : these he looked upon with such an 
 indulgent eye, as did not abate his love and esteem 
 of her, while it augmented his care to blot out all 
 those spots which might make her appear less 
 worthy of that respect he paid her; and thus in¬ 
 deed he soon made her more equal to him than he 
 found her ; for she was a very faithful mirror, 
 j reflecting truly, though but dimly, his own glories 
 | upon him, so long as he was present; but she, 
 that was nothing before his inspection gave her a 
 fair figure, when he was removed, was only filled 
 with a dark mist, and never could again take in 
 any delightful object, nor return any shining re¬ 
 presentation. The greatest excellency she had was 
 j the power of apprehending and the virtue of 
 loving his : so as his shadow, she waited on him 
 everywhere, till he was taken into that region of 
 light, which admits of none, and then she vanished 
 into nothing. ’Twas not her face he loved, her 
 honour and her virtue were his mistresses, and 
 these (like Pygmalion’s) images of his own making, 
 for he polished and gave form to what he found 
 i with all the roughness of the quarry about it ; 
 but meeting with a compliant subject for his own 
 wise government, he found as much satisfaction as 
 he gave, and never had occasion to number his 
 marriage among his infelicities. That day that 
 | the friends on both sides met to conclude the mar- 
 riage, she fell sick of the small-pox, which was 
 many ways a great trial upon him; first her life 
 was almost in desperate hazard, and then the 
 disease, for the present, made her the most de¬ 
 formed person that could be seen, for a great 
 
 while after she recovered; yet he was nothing 
 troubled at it, but married her as soon as she was 
 able to quit the chamber, when the priest and all 
 that saw her were affrighted to look on her: but 
 God recompensed his justice and constancy, by 
 restoring her, though she was longer than ordinary 
 before she recovered, as well as before. One thing 
 is very observable, and worthy imitation in him ; 
 although he had as strong and violent affections 
 for her as ever any man had, yet he declared it 
 not to her till he had acquainted first his father, and 
 after never would make any engagement but what 
 his love and honour bound him in, wherein he was 
 more firm and just than all the promissory oaths 
 and ties in the world could have made him, not¬ 
 withstanding many powerful temptations of wealth 
 and beauty, and other interests, that were laid 
 before him ; for his father had concluded another 
 treaty, before he knew his son’s inclinations were 
 this way fixed, with a party in many things much 
 more advantageable for his family, and more wor¬ 
 thy of his liking: but his father was no less honour¬ 
 ably indulgent to his son’s affection, than the son 
 was strict in the observance of his duty, and at 
 length, to the full content of all, the thing was 
 accomplished, and on the third day of July, in the 
 year 1638, he was married to Mrs. Lucy Apsley, 
 the second daughter of Sir Allen Apsley, late 
 lieutenant of the Tower of London, at St. Andrew’s 
 church in Holborn. He lived some time in this 
 neighbourhood with her mother, but four months 
 were scarce past after their marriage, before he 
 was in great danger to have lost her, when she 
 lost two children she had conceived by him. Soon 
 after conceiving again, she grew so sickly, that her 
 indulgent mother and husband, for the advantage 
 of her health, removed their dwelling out of the 
 city, to a house they took in Enfield chace, called 
 the Blew House, where, upon the third of Sep¬ 
 tember, 1G39, she was brought to bed of two sons, 
 whereof the elder he named after his own father, 
 Thomas, the younger was called Edward, who both 
 survived him. September 1641, she brought him 
 another son, called by his own .name, John, who 
 lived scarce six years, and was a very hopeful 
 child, full of his father’s vigour and spirit, but 
 death soon nipped that blossom. 
 
 Mr. Hutchinson, after about fourteen months’ 
 various exercise of his mind, in the pursuit of his 
 love, being now at rest in the enjoyment of his 
 wife, his next design was to draw her into his own 
 country, but he would not set upon it too roughly, 
 and therefore let her rest awhile, when he had 
 drawn her ten miles nearer it, out of the city 
 where she had had her birth and education, and 
 where all her relations were most conversant, and 
 which she could not suddenly resolve to quit for 
 altogether, to betake herself to the north, which 
 was a formidable name among the London ladies. 
 While she was weaning from the friends and 
 places she had so long conversed in, Mr. Hutchin¬ 
 son employed his time in making an entrance upon 
 the study of school divinity, wherein his father 
 was the most eminent scholar of any gentleman 
 in England, and had a most choice library*, valued 
 
 * This is spoken of in the preface, and did in fact remain 
 at Owthorpe, but probably was placed there by Charles, 
 the son of Sir Thomas Hutchinson by his second wife : it 
 was of excessively small value when taken possession of in 
 the year 1776. It is apparent, from Sir Thomas Hutchinson 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 at a thousand pounds ; which Mr. Hutchinson 
 mistakingly expecting to be part of his inherit¬ 
 ance, thought it would be very inglorious for him 
 not to understand how to make use of his father’s 
 books. _ Having therefore gotten into the house 
 with him an excellent scholar in that kind of 
 learning, he for two years made it the whole em¬ 
 ployment of his time. The gentleman that as¬ 
 sisted him he converted to a right belief in that 
 great point of predestination, he having been before 
 of the Arminian judgment, till, upon the serious 
 examination of both principles, and comparing 
 them with the Scriptures, Mr. Hutchinson con¬ 
 vinced him of the truth, and grew so well in¬ 
 structed in this principle, that he was able to main¬ 
 tain it against any man. At that time, this great 
 doctrine grew much out of fashion with the prelates, 
 but was generally embraced by all religious and 
 holy persons in the land. Mr. Hutchinson, being 
 desirous to inform himself thoroughly of it, when 
 he was able to manage the question, offered it to 
 his father, but Sir Thomas would not declare him¬ 
 self in the point to him, nor indeed in any other, 
 as we conceived, lest a father’s authority should 
 sway against his children’s light, who he thought 
 ought to discern things with their own eyes, and 
 not with his. Mr. Hutchinson, taking delight in 
 the study of divinity, presently left off all foolish nice 
 points that tended to nothing but vain brangling, 
 and employed his whole study in laying a founda¬ 
 tion of sound and necessary principles, among 
 which he gave the first place to this of God’s abso¬ 
 lute decrees. This was so far from producing a 
 carelessness of life in him, a thing generally ob¬ 
 jected against this faith, that, on the other side, it 
 excited him to a more strict and holy walking in 
 thankfulness to God, who had been pleased to 
 choose him out of the corrupted mass of lost man¬ 
 kind, to fix his love upon him, and give him the 
 knowledge of himself by his ever-blessed Son. 
 ihis principle of love and life in God, which had 
 been given him when he discerned not what it was 
 in himself, had from a child preserved him from 
 wallowing in the mire of sin and wickedness, 
 wherein most of the gentry of those times were 
 miserably plunged, except a few, that were there¬ 
 fore the scorn of mankind ; and but few of those 
 few, that had not natural and superstitious follies, 
 that were in some kind justly ridiculous and con¬ 
 temptible. It was a remarkable providence of 
 God in his life, that must not be passed over without 
 special notice, that he gave him these two years’ 
 leisure, and a heart so to employ it, before the 
 noise of war and tumult came upon him. Yet 
 about the year 1639, the thunder was heard afar 
 off, rattling in the troubled air, and even the most 
 obscured woods were penetrated with some flashes, 
 the forerunners of the dreadful storm which the 
 next year was more apparent; but Mr. Hutchinson 
 was not yet awakened till it pleased God to de¬ 
 liver him from a danger into which he had run 
 himself, had not mercy prevented him. His wife 
 already two sons, and being again with 
 c n , considered that it would be necessary to 
 seek an augmentation of revenue, or retire into a 
 cheaper country ; and more inclining to the first, 
 
 being upon all the committees for religion, as may be seen 
 in Rushworth’s collection, that he was in repute for this 
 kind of knowledge, 
 
 than to leave at once her mother, and all the rest 
 of her dear relations, had propounded to him to 
 buy an office, which he was not of himself very 
 inclinable to, but, to give her and her mother 
 satisfaction, he hearkened to a motion that was 
 made him in that kind. Sir William Penny- 
 man, who had married his cousin-german, a very 
 worthy gentleman, who had great respect both for 
 and from his father, had purchased the chief 
 office in the Star-chamber; the gentleman who 
 held the next to him was careless and debauched 
 and thereby a great hindrance of Sir William’s 
 profits, who apprehended if he could get an honest 
 man into that place, that they might mutually much j 
 advantage each other: whereupon he persuaded I 
 Mr. Hutchinson to buy the place, and offered him I 
 any terms, to go any share with him, or any way 
 he could desire. Mr. Hutchinson treated with the j 
 gentleman, came to a conclusion, went down into | 
 the country, provided the money, and came up 
 again, thinking presently to enter into the office ; 
 but the gentleman that should have sold it, bein" ! 
 of an uncertain humour, thought to make the 
 benefit of another term, before he sold his place ; 
 and it pleased God in the mean time that arbitrary 
 court was, by the parliament then sitting, taken 
 away. Mr. Hutchinson was very sensible of a 
 peculiar providence to him herein, and resolved to 
 adventure no more such hazards, but to retire to j 
 that place whither God seemed to have called him I 
 by giving him so good an interest there, and to I 
 study how he was to improve that talent. His 
 wife, convinced by this kind check which God had 
 given to her desires, that she ought to follow her 
 husband where the Lord seemed to call him, went 
 along with him, and about October, 1641, they 
 came to their house at Owthorpe. Here Mr. 
 George Hutchinson (Sir Thomas being then chosen 
 knight for Nottinghamshire, and sitting in the 
 parliament at London) came and gave a glad 
 entertainment of his brother and sister into the 
 country, by his good company, and they were for j 
 a few months peaceful and happy in their own I 
 house, till the kingdom began to blaze out with i 
 the long-conceived flame of civil war. But here |. 
 
 I must make a short digression from our particular i 
 actions, to sum up the state of the kingdom at j 
 that time, which though I cannot do exactly, yet j 
 I can truly relate what I was then able to take 
 notice of, and if any one have a desire of more ' 
 particular information, there were so many books ! 
 then written, as will sufficiently give it them : and 
 although those of our enemies are all fraught with j 
 abominable lies, yet if all ours were suppressed, j 
 even their own writings impartially considered j 
 would be a sufficient chronicle of their injustice j 
 and oppression ; but I shall only mention what is 
 necessary to be remembered, for the better carry- ! 
 ing on of my purpose. 
 
 When the dawn of the gospel began to break I 
 upon this isle, after the dark midnight of papacy, 
 the morning was more cloudy here than in other 
 places by reason of the state interest, which was 
 mixing and working itself into the interest of re¬ 
 ligion, and which, in the end, quite wrought it out. 
 King Henry the Eighth, who, by his royal autho¬ 
 rity, cast out the pope, did not intend the people 
 of the land should have any ease of oppression, 
 but only change their foreign yoke for homebred | 
 fetters, dividing the pope’s spoils between himself 
 
t -1 -;- 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 25 
 
 and his bishops, who cared not for their father at 
 Rome, so long as they enjoyed their patrimony and 
 their honours here under another head : so that I 
 cannot subscribe to those who entitle that king to 
 the honour of the reformation. But even then 
 I there wanted not- many who discerned the corrup¬ 
 tions that were retained in the church, and eagerly 
 applied their endeavours to obtain a purer reforma¬ 
 tion, against whom those who saw no need of further 
 reformation, through excess of joy for that which 
 was already brought forth, or else through a secret 
 love of superstition rooted in their hearts, thought 
 this too much, were bitterly incensed, and hating 
 that light which reproved their darkness, every¬ 
 where stirred up spirits of envy and persecution 
 against them. Upon .the great revolution which 
 ! took place at the accession of Queen Elizabeth to 
 | the crown, the nation became divided into three 
 ! great factions, the papist, the state protestant, and 
 I the more religious zealots, who afterward were 
 branded with the name of Puritan. In vain it was 
 i for these to address to the queen and the parlia- 
 ! ment; for the bishops, under the specious pre¬ 
 tences of uniformity and obedience, procured 
 ! severe punishments to be inflicted on such as 
 durst gainsay their determinations in all things 
 concerning worship, whereupon some, even in 
 those godly days, lost their lives. 
 
 The papists had a most inveterate hatred to all 
 | the protestants, but especially to those who were 
 godly, and they again, many of them, suffered their 
 I zeal to run out into bitter personal hate. Between 
 I these two extremes, the common protestant was in 
 I the middle, though I cannot reckon them as a 
 virtuous medium ; for of them the more profane 
 and ignorant only left popery because it grew out 
 of fashion, but in their hearts inclined that way ; 
 those who were peaceable, conscientious, or moral 
 persons, inclined to the puritan ; of whom there 
 were many that unwillingly bore the burden of' 
 the ceremonies, for quietness’ sake, and through 
 false doctrine of their unfaithful teachers, as well 
 as some that discerned the base and carnal minds 
 of those seducers, and would not be persuaded by 
 them to defile their consciences : the former sort 
 of these, in zeal to reduce the whole land from 
 their idolatrous practices, procured laws and in¬ 
 vented oaths to suppress popery, which they little 
 thought, but we now sadly find, are the bitterest 
 engines to batter down the pure worship and 
 destroy the pure worshippers of God ; which I 
 have often looked upon as an evidence that God is 
 not pleased with the conversions that are enforced 
 by men’s laws. We have spiritual weapons given 
 us for spiritual combats, and those who go about 
 to conquer subjects for Christ with swords of steel, 
 shall find the base metal break to shivers when 
 it is used, and hurtfully fly in their own faces. 
 
 About the time of the reformation, there was a 
 great change in the civil interest of all that part 
 of the world which had long lain under the bondage 
 of the Roman prelate and his tyrannical clergy. 
 These had by degrees so encroached upon all the 
 secular princes, that they were nothing but vassals 
 and hangmen to the proud insolent priest. Obtain¬ 
 ing his empire by fraud, false doctrine, lies, and 
 hypocrisy, he maintained it by blood and rapine, 
 till it pleased God to cause that light to break forth 
 about Luther’s time, which hath ever since been 
 increasing, and, notwithstanding all the attempts 
 
 of Satan and his ministers, will, in the end, grow 
 up to a glorious flame, and quite devour that bloody 
 city. When the wrath of princes and priests was 
 in vain at first blown up against the professors of 
 the gospel, and their blood and ashes became 
 fruitful seed in God’s field, then the old fox comes 
 into the fold as a lamb, and seduces some of them 
 that saw the approach of Christ’s kingdom, to set 
 it up irregularly, and indeed (though I know not 
 whether they perceived their own delusion) to set 
 up themselves in Christ’s throne, casting down the 
 thrones of all other magistrates, and destroying the 
 properties of men, and ruling by their own arbitrary 
 lust, which they brought forth in the name of God’s 
 law *. This example was so threatening to all 
 mankind, that the gospel itself, by the adversaries j 
 thereof, suffered much reproach upon this mis- : 
 carriage ; whereupon the protestants, in all places, 1 
 to clear themselves from the just aspersions, which 
 the Munster anabaptists and others had occasioned, j 
 fell into an error on the other hand, not much less 
 hurtful in the consequence ; for to flatter the 
 princes of the world, whether popish or protest¬ 
 ant, they invested them with God’s prerogative, 
 and preached to them and the people such doctrines 
 as only changed the idol, but left the idolatry still 
 in practice. 
 
 The popes of Rome had for many ages chal¬ 
 lenged and practised a power to disthrone princes, 
 to give away their realms, to interdict whole king¬ 
 doms and provinces and devote them to slaughter, 
 to loose subjects from all bonds and oaths of alle¬ 
 giance to their sovereigns, and to stir up both 
 princes and people to the mutual murder of each 
 other, which abominable courses had been justly 
 cast upon them as reproach, they pretending to 
 do all these things for the propagation of the true 
 worship and the advance of God’s glory. This 
 reproach they retorted when some protestants, 
 upon the same pretence, did maintain that idola¬ 
 trous princes were to be removed, and such magis¬ 
 trates set up as feared God, who were guardians of 
 both tables, and bound to compel all their people 
 to the right religion. This confusion was there 
 among the sons of darkness at the first appearance 
 of gospel light. 
 
 About this time in the kingdom of Scotland 
 there was a wicked queen, daughter of a mother 
 that came out of the bloody house of Guise f, and 
 brought up in the popish religion, which she 
 zealously persevered in, as most suitable to her 
 bloody lustful temper ; she being guilty of mur¬ 
 ders and adulteries, and hateful for them to the 
 honestest of the people, was deposed, imprisoned, 
 and forced to fly for her life ; but her son was 
 received into the throne, and educated after the 
 strictest way of the protestant religion, according 
 to Calvin’s form. Those who were chiefly active 
 and instrumental in the justice executed on this 
 wicked queen, were the reformers of religion in 
 Scotland, which made the neighbouring idolatrous 
 princes to fear them of the same faith. About the 
 same time, likewise, the provinces of the Nether¬ 
 lands united themselves in a resistance of the King 
 
 * A description of the principles of the most extravagant 
 of those whom in history they call Fifth-Monarchy men, 
 from their affecting to set up the empire of Christ as the 
 fifth ; the Assyrian, Persian, Grecian, and Roman, being 
 the first four. 
 
 t Mary, Queen of Scots. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 of Spain, and cast off that yoke wherewith he had 
 most barbarously galled them. The King of 
 France, persecuting his protestant subjects with 
 much inhuman violence, forced them to defend 
 themselves against his unsanctified league, and 
 much blood was shed in those civil wars, till at 
 length those who had had so much experience of 
 God’s providence in delivering them from their 
 cruel princes, were persuaded to make up an 
 alliance with the enemies of God and religion, and 
 by the treacherous foe drawn into his snares, 
 where they were most wickedly and barbarously 
 massacred*. Now, although religion were the 
 main ground of those bloody quarrels, yet there 
 were, in all these countries, many disputes of civil 
 right, which, for the most part, bore the face of 
 the wars, whereat I have only hinted in this 
 survey of the condition of other states, and their 
 interests in those days and since, which is some¬ 
 thing necessary to be known for the better under¬ 
 standing of our own, with which I shall now 
 proceed. 
 
 The civil government of England, from the time 
 called the Conquest, had been administered by a 
 King, Lords, and Commons, in a way of Parlia¬ 
 ments ; the Parliament entrusted with the legis¬ 
 lative, and the King with the executive power j 
 but several.of the kings, not satisfied with their 
 bounded monarchy, made attempts to convert it 
 into an absolute sovereignty—attempts fatal both 
 to themselves and their people, and ever unsuc¬ 
 cessful ; for the generous people of England, as 
 they were the most free and obsequious subjects 
 in the world to those princes that managed them 
 with a kind and tender hand, commanding them 
 as freemen, not as slaves, so were they the most 
 untameable, invincible people, in defence of their 
 freedoms against all those usurping lords, that 
 scorned to allow them liberty. The nobility of 
 the realm, having at first the great balance of the 
 lands, and retaining some of that free honourable 
 virtue, for which they were exalted above the 
 vulgar, ever stood up in the people’s defence, and 
 curbed the wild ambition of the tyrants, whom 
 they sometimes reduced to moderation, and some¬ 
 times deposed for their mis-governments, till at 
 length the kings, eager to break this yoke, had 
 insensibly worn out the interest of the nobility, 
 by drawing them to their courts, where luxuries 
 melted away the great estates of some, others 
 were destroyed by confiscations in divers civil 
 wars, and others otherways mouldered with time. 
 While the kings were glad to see the abatement of 
 that power, which had been such a check to their 
 exorbitances, they perceived not the growing of 
 another more dangerous to them, and that when 
 the nobility shrunk into empty names, the throne 
 lost its supporters, and had no more but a little 
 puff of wind to bear it up, when the full body of 
 the people came rolling in upon it. The interest 
 of the people, which had been many years grow¬ 
 ing, made an extraordinary progress in the days 
 of King Henry the Eighth, who returning the vast 
 revenues of the church into the body of the people, 
 cast the balance clear on their side, and left them 
 now only to expect f a n opportunity to resume 
 
 * The famous massacre on St. Bartholomew’s _ day~at 
 Paris. 
 
 t Expect, a Latinism; expectare, to wait for; or Italian, 
 aspettare, id. 
 
 their power into their own hands, and had not 
 differences in religion divided them among them¬ 
 selves, and thereby prolonged the last gasps of 
 expiring monarchy, they had long since exercised 
 it in a free commonwealth. 
 
 England was not an idle spectator of the great 
 contest between the papist and protestant, in which 
 all Christendom seemed to be engaged. During 
 the reign of' Queen Elizabeth, the protestant in¬ 
 terest, being her peculiar interest, that princess 
 became not only glorious in the defence of her 
 own realm, but in the protection she gave to the 
 whole protestant cause, in all the neighbouring 
 kingdoms ; wherefore, as if it had been devolved 
 upon her person, the pope shot all his arrows at 
 her head, and set on many desperate assassinations 
 against her, which, by the good providence of 
 God, were all frustrated, and she not only miracu¬ 
 lously delivered from those wretches, but renowned 
 at home and abroad for successes against her re¬ 
 bellious subjects in England and Ireland, and for 
 the assistance of her distressed neighbours : but 
 above all for the mercy which it pleased God to 
 afford her and this realm in the year 1588, when 
 the invading Spaniard had devoured us in his 
 proud hopes, and by the mighty hand of God was 
 scattered as a mist before the morning beams. 
 That which kept alive the hopes of the papists, 
 most part of her reign, was the expectation of the 
 Queen of Scots, who, entering into confederacy 
 with them, lost her head for the forfeit, wherein 
 the Duke of Norfolk suffered also for her the loss 
 of his. The Queen of England was very loath to 
 execute this necessary justice ; but the true¬ 
 hearted protestants of her council, foreseeing the 
 s ad effects that might be expected, if ever she 
 arrived to the crown, urged it on +, and after the 
 death of Queen Elizabeth, the wiser of them much 
 opposed the admission of her son : but he, dissem¬ 
 bling the resentment of his mother’s death, by bribes 
 and greater promises, managed a faction in the 
 court of the declining queen, which prevailed on her 
 dotage to destroy the Earl of Essex, who only had 
 courage to have kept out him they thought dan¬ 
 gerous to let in §. So subtilely brought they their 
 purpose about, that wise counsel was in vain to a 
 blinded and betrayed people. The antiprelatical 
 party, hoping that, with a king bred up among the 
 Calvinists, they should now be freed from the epis¬ 
 copal yoke, were greedy of entertaining him, but 
 soon cured of their mistake, when immediately 
 after his entry into the kingdom, himself being 
 moderator at a dispute between b oth parties, the 
 
 t The signing and expediting the warrant for the execu¬ 
 tion of Mary Queen of Scots is an enigma which has em¬ 
 ployed the wits of many to solve—perhaps this may be the 
 true solution of it; it is at least clear that it thus appeared 
 to well-informed persons, living in times when the thing 
 was recent, and accounts for it more naturally than the 
 mean jealousy attributed to Queen Elizabeth, which would 
 in fact have been a better reason for putting her to death 
 many years sooner. 
 
 § In Heylin’s History of the Presbyterians, it is said that 
 the Earl of Essex was much courted by the puritans, and 
 in return caressed them; that a title to the crown was 
 drawn out for him and he began to look up to it; that 
 he encouraged an opinion, that inferior magistrates might 
 curb and control their sovereign; that he was outwitted 
 and brought to the scaffold by Cecil and Raleigh, very op¬ 
 portunely for King James, whose entrance might have been 
 opposed and his title questioned. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 27 
 
 non-conformists were cast out of doors, the offen¬ 
 sive ceremonies, instead of being removed, were 
 more strictly imposed, the penalties against papists 
 relaxed, many of them taken into favour, those 
 families who suffered for his mother graced and 
 restored as far as the times would bear, and those 
 who consented any way to the justice done upon 
 her disfavoured. A progress was made suitable to 
 this beginning, the protestant interest abroad was 
 deserted and beti’ayed, the prelates at home daily 
 exalted in pride and pomp, and declining in virtue 
 and godliness. Arminianism * crept in, to the cor¬ 
 ruption of sound doctrine, till at length they had 
 the impudence to forbid preaching of those great 
 and necessary truths, concerning the decrees of God; 
 secret treaties were entertained with the court of 
 Rome ’f, and notwithstanding that hellish powder 
 plot, the papists lost not their credit at court, 
 where they now wrought no longer by open and 
 direct ways, but humouring the king and queen in 
 their lusts and excesses, found the most ready way 
 to destroy the doctrine of the gospel, was to de¬ 
 bauch the professors. The court of this king was 
 a nursery of lust and intemperance ; he had 
 brought in with him a company of poor Scots, who, 
 coming into this plentiful kingdom, surfeited with 
 riot and debaucheries, and got all the riches of the 
 land only to cast away. The honour, wealth, and 
 glory of the nation, wherein Queen Elizabeth left 
 it, were soon prodigally wasted by this thriftless 
 heir, the nobility of the land utterly debased by 
 setting honours to public sale, and conferring them 
 on pei’sons that had neither blood nor merit fit to 
 wear, nor estates to bear up their titles, but were 
 fain to invent projects to pill J. the people, and pick 
 their purses for the maintenance of vice and lewd¬ 
 ness. The generality of the gentry of the land 
 soon learned the court fashion, and every great 
 house in the country became a sty of uncleanness. 
 To keep the people in their deplorable security, 
 till vengeance overtook them, they were enter¬ 
 tained with masks, stage plays, and sorts of ruder 
 sports. Then began murder, incest, adultery, 
 drunkenness, swearing, fornication, and all sort of 
 ribaldry, to be no concealed, but countenanced, 
 vices ; because they held such conformity with 
 the court example. Next to this, a great cause of 
 these abominations was the mixed marriages of 
 papist and protestant families, which, no question, 
 was a design of the popish party to compass and 
 procure, and so successful that I have observed 
 that there was not one house of ten, where such 
 a marriage was made, but the better party was 
 corrupted, the children’s souls were sacrificed to 
 devils, the worship of God was laid aside in that 
 family, for fear of distasting the idolater ; the 
 kindred, tenants, and neighbours, either quite 
 turned from it, or cooled in their zeal for re¬ 
 ligion. As the fire is most fervent in a frosty 
 season, so the general apostacy from holiness, if I 
 may so call it, and defection to lewdness, stirred 
 up sorrow, indignation, and fear, in all that re¬ 
 tained any love of God in the land, whether minis¬ 
 ters or people : the ministers warned the people 
 of the approaching judgments of God, which could 
 not be expected but to follow such high provoca¬ 
 
 * James, however, professed himself a great enemy to it. 
 t The first volume of Clarendon’s State Papers is half 
 filled with them. % Pill—pillage, plunder. 
 
 tions ; God, in his mercy, sent his prophets into 
 all corners of the land to preach repentance and 
 cry out against the ingratitude of England, who 
 thus requited so many rich mercies as no nation 
 could ever boast of more ; and by these a few 
 were everywhere converted and established in 
 faith and holiness ; but at court these were hated, 
 disgraced, and reviled, and in scorn had the 
 name of Puritan fixed upon them. And now the 
 ready way to preferment there, was to declare 
 an opposition to the power of godliness, under 
 that name ; so that their pulpits might justly be 
 called the scorner’s chair, those sermons only 
 pleasing that flattered them in their vices and told 
 the poor king that he was Solomon, that his sloth 
 and cowardice, by which he betrayed the cause of 
 God and honour of the nation, was gospel meek¬ 
 ness and peaceableness, for which they raised him 
 up above the heavens, while he lay wallowing like 
 a swine in the mire of his lust. He had a little 
 learning, and this they called the spirit of wisdom, 
 and so magnified him, so falsely flattered him, 
 that he could not endure the words of truth and 
 soundness, but rewarded these base, wicked, un¬ 
 faithful fawners with rich preferments, attended 
 with pomps and titles, which heaved them up 
 above a human height: with their pride their 
 envy swelled against the people of God, whom 
 they began to project how they might root out of 
 the land ; and when they had once given them a 
 name, whatever was odious or dreadful to the king 
 that they fixed upon the puritan, which, accord¬ 
 ing to their character, was nothing but a factious 
 hypocrite. 
 
 The king had upon his heart the dealings both 
 of England and Scotland with his mother, and 
 harboured a secret desire of revenge upon the 
 godly in both nations, yet had not courage enough 
 to assert his resentment like a prince, but employed 
 a wicked cunning he was master of, and called 
 king-craft, to undermine what he durst not openly 
 oppose, the true religion ; this was fenced with 
 the liberty of the people, and so linked together, 
 that ’twas impossible to make them slaves, till 
 they were brought to be idolaters of royalty and 
 glorious lust, and as impossible to make them adore 
 these gods while they continued loyal to the gov¬ 
 ernment of Jesus Christ. The payment of civil 
 obedience to the king and the laws of the land 
 satisfied not ; if any durst dispute his impositions 
 in the worship of God, he was presently reckoned 
 among the seditious and disturbers of the public 
 peace, and accordingly persecuted : if any were 
 grieved at the dishonour of the kingdom, or the 
 griping of the poor, or the unjust oppressions of the 
 subject by a thousand ways, invented to maintain 
 the riots of the courtiers and the swarms of needy 
 Scots the king had brought in, to devour like 
 locusts the plenty of this land, he was a puritan : 
 if any, out of mere morality and civil honesty, dis¬ 
 countenanced the abominations of those days, he 
 was a puritan, however he conformed to their 
 superstitious worship : if any showed favour to 
 any godly honest person, kept them company, 
 relieved them in want, or protected them against 
 violent or unj ust oppression, he was a puritan : if 
 any gentleman in his country maintained the good 
 laws of the land, or stood up for any public 
 interest, for good order or government, he was a 
 puritan : in short, all that crossed the views of the 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 needy courtiers, the proud encroaching priests, the 
 thievish projectors, the lewd nobility and gentry, 
 whoever was zealous for God’s glory or worship, 
 could not endure blasphemous oaths, ribald con¬ 
 versation, profane scoffs, sabbath breach, derision 
 of the word of God, and the like ; whoever could 
 endure a sermon, modest habit or conversation, or 
 anything good, all these were puritans ; and if 
 | puritans, then enemies to the king and his govern- 
 | rnent, seditious factious hypocrites, ambitious 
 disturbers of the public peace, and finally, the 
 I pest of the kingdom ; such false logic did the chil¬ 
 dren of darkness use to argue with against the 
 | hated children of light, whom they branded besides 
 as an illiterate, morose, melancholy, discontented, 
 crazed sort of men, not fit for human conversation*; 
 as such, they made them not only the sport of the 
 J pulpit, which was become but a more solemn sort 
 | of sta g e > but every stage, and every table, and 
 I every puppet-play, belched forth profane scoffs 
 j upon them, the drunkards made them their songs, 
 
 | all fiddlers and mimics learned to abuse them, as 
 finding it the most gameful way of fooling. Thus 
 the two factions in those days grew up to great 
 heights and enmities, one against the other, while 
 the papist wanted not industry and subtilty to 
 blow the coals between them, and was so successful 
 that, unless the mercy of God confound them by 
 their own imaginations, we may justly fear they 
 will at last obtain their full wish. 
 
 But to deal impartially, we must, with sadness 
 enough confess, that the wolf came into the fold 
 in a sheep’s clothing, and wrought more slaughter 
 that way among the lambs, than he could have 
 done in his own skin ; for it is true that many of 
 wit and parts, discontented, when they could not 
 obtain the preferments their ambition gaped at, 
 would declare themselves of the puritan party, 
 and such were either bought off, or, if the adver¬ 
 sary would not give their price, seduced their 
 devout hearers, sometimes into indiscreet oppo¬ 
 sition, to work out their own revenge ; others that 
 had neither learning, nor friends, nor opportuni¬ 
 ties to arrive to any preferments, would put on a 
 form of godliness, finding devout people that way 
 so liberal to them, that they could not hope to 
 enrich themselves so much any other way. Some 
 that had greater art and parts, finding there was 
 no inconsiderable gain to be made of the simple 
 devotion of men and women, applied their wits to 
 it, and collected great sums for the advancement 
 of the religious interest, of which they converted 
 much to their own private uses. Such as these 
 tempted the people of God to endeavour to shelter 
 themselves in human policies, and found out ways 
 by bribes, and other not less indirect courses, to 
 procure patrons at court, and to set up against 
 the prelates with countermines and other engines, 
 which being of man’s framing, were all at last 
 broken. 
 
 The puritan party, being weak and oppressed, 
 had not faith enough to disown all that adhered to 
 
 * Such is the idea entertained of them in general even at 
 this day; whoever shall read these memoirs will he well 
 convinced that not one of these qualities needs or does by 
 any natural consequence accompany the character. It is 
 a great misfortune that many of the zealous professors of 
 piety should give it so austere an aspect, and this can 
 never be better contrasted than by the cheerful and ami¬ 
 able one this professed puritan gives it. 
 
 them for worldly interests, and indeed it required 
 more than human wisdom to discern at the least 
 all of them, wherefore they, in their low condition, 
 gladly accepted any that would come over to them, 
 or incline towards them; and their enemies through 
 envy at them augmented much their party, while, 
 with injuries and reproaches, they drove many, 
 that never intended it, to take that party ; which 
 in the end got nothing but confusion by those 
 additions. While these parties were thus counter¬ 
 working, the treasure of the kingdom being wasted 
 by court-caterpillars, and parliaments called to re- 
 supply the royal coffers, therein there wanted not 
 some, that retained so much of the English spirit, 
 as to represent the public grievances, and desire 
 to call the corrupt ministers of state to an ac¬ 
 count ; but the lung, grudging that his people 
 should dare to gainsay his pleasure, and correct 
 his misgovernment, in his favourites, broke up 
 parliaments, violated their privileges, imprisoned 
 their members for things spoken in the House, and 
 grew disaffected to them, and entertained projects 
 of supply by other grievances of the people. The 
 prelates, in the mean time, finding they lost ground, 
 meditated reunion with the popish faction, who 
 began to be at a pretty agreement with themf; 
 and now there was no more endeavour in their 
 public sermons, to confute the errors of that 
 church, but to reduce our doctrines and theirs to 
 an accommodation: the king, to bring it about, was 
 deluded into the treaty of a match for his son with 
 the Infanta of Spain ; and the prince, with the 
 Duke of Buckingham, privately sent into Spain, 
 from whence he difficultly came back, but to the 
 great rejoicing of the whole people in general, who 
 were much afflicted at his going thither. During 
 this treaty, the papists got many advantages of the 
 king, to the prejudice of the protestant interest at 
 home and abroad, and the hearts of all but the 
 papists were very much saddened, and the people, I 
 loath to lay the miscarriages of things at the king’s I 
 own door, began to entertain a universal hatred i 
 of the Duke of Buckingham, raised from a knight’s 
 fourth son to that pitch of glory, and enjoying great 
 possessions,acquired by the favour of the king, upon 
 no merit but that of his beauty and his prostitution. 
 
 The parliament had drawn up a charge against 
 him, and though the king seemed to protect him, 
 yet knowing the fearfulness of his nature, and 
 doubting his constancy, it was believed he added 
 some help to an ague that killed that king ; how- I 
 
 ever, the king died, and the duke continued as I 
 
 high in the favour of the next succeeding as of 
 the deceased prince : whereupon one, not unaptly, 
 says of him, “ he seemed as an unhappy exhalation, 
 drawn up from the earth, not only to cloud the 
 setting, but the rising sun.” 
 
 The face of the court was much changed in the 
 change of the king ; for King Charles was tempe¬ 
 rate, chaste, and serious ; so that the fools and 
 bawds, mimics and catamites, of the former court, 
 grew out of fashion; and the nobility and cour¬ 
 tiers, who did not quite abandon their debauch¬ 
 eries, had yet that reverence to the king, to retire 
 into corners to practise them : men of learning 
 and ingenuity in all arts were in esteem, and re¬ 
 ceived encouragement from the king ; who was a 
 most excellent judge, and a great lover of paint- 
 
 t The first volume of Clarendon’s State Papers abounds 
 with instances. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 29 
 
 ings, carvings, gravings, and many other in¬ 
 genuities, less offensive than the bawdry and pro¬ 
 fane abusive wit, which was the only exercise of 
 the other court. But as in the primitive times, 
 
 S it is observed that the best emperors were some 
 of them stirred up by Satan to be the bitterest 
 persecutors of the church, so this king was a worse 
 encroacher upon the civil and spiritual liberties of 
 his people, by far, than his father. He married a 
 papist, a French lady, of a haughty spirit, and a 
 great wit and beauty, to whom he became a most 
 uxorious husband. By this means the court was 
 replenished with papists, and many, who hoped to 
 advance themselves by the change, turned to that 
 religion; all the papists in the kingdom were 
 favoured, and, by the king’s example, matched into 
 the best families ; the puritans more than ever 
 
 I discountenanced and persecuted, insomuch that 
 many of them chose to abandon their native 
 country, and leave their dearest relations, to retire 
 into any foreign soil or plantation, where they 
 might, amidst all outward inconveniences, enjoy 
 the free exercise of God’s worship ; such as could 
 not flee were tormented in the bishops’ courts, 
 fined, whipped, pilloried, imprisoned, and suffered 
 to enjoy no rest, so that death was better than life 
 to them; and notwithstanding their patient suf¬ 
 ferance of all these things, yet was not the king 
 satisfied till the whole land were reduced to per¬ 
 fect slavery. The example of the French king 
 was propounded to him, and he thought himself 
 no monarch, so long as his will was confined to the 
 . bounds of any law; but knowing that the people 
 ) of England were not pliable to an arbitrary rule, 
 he plotted to subdue them to his yoke by a foreign 
 force, and till he could effect it, made no conscience 
 of granting anything to the people, which he 
 resolved should not oblige him longer than it 
 served his turn ; for he was a prince that had 
 nothing of faith or truth, justice or generosity, in 
 him; he was the most obstinate person in his self- 
 will that ever was, and so bent upon being an 
 absolute uncontrollable sovereign, that he was re- 
 I solved either to be such a king or none. His firm 
 adherence to prelacy was not for conscience of one 
 religion more than another, for it was his principle 
 that an honest man might be saved in any profes¬ 
 sion ; but he had a mistaken principle that kingly 
 government in the state could not stand without 
 episcopal government in the church, and therefore 
 as the bishops flattered him with preaching up his 
 sovereign prerogative, and inveighing against the 
 puritans as factious and disloyal, so he protected 
 them in their pomp and pride, and insolent prac¬ 
 tices, against all the godly and sober people of the 
 land. In the first parliament after he came to 
 the crown,the Duke of Buckingham was impeached 
 concerning the death of King James, and other 
 j misdemeanours, but the present king, who had 
 received him into the same degree of favour that 
 he was with the former, would not endure the 
 question of his favourite, and, to deliver him from 
 it, broke up the parliament, which gave too just a 
 
 I suspicion that he favoured the practice ; for it is 
 I true that the duke’s mother, without the consent 
 of the physicians, had made an application to the 
 wrists of the king for his ague, after which he died 
 in his next fit. Some other parliaments there 
 ! were, but still abruptly broken up, when they put 
 forth any endeavour to redress grievances. The 
 
 protestants abroad were all looked upon as puritans, j 
 and their interest, instead of being protected, sadly 
 betrayed ; ships let out to the French king to 
 serve against them ; all the flower of the English 
 gentry lost in an ill-managed expedition to the 
 Isle of Rhee, under pretence of helping them, but 
 so ordered that it proved the loss of Rochelle, the 
 strong fort and best defence of all the protestants 
 in France. Those in Germany were no less 
 neglected in all treaties, although his own sister 
 and her children were so highly concerned. The 
 whole people were sadly grieved at these misgo- 
 vernments, and, loth to impute them to the king, 
 cast all the odium upon the Duke of Buckingham, 
 whom at length a discontented person stabbed, be¬ 
 lieving he did God and his country good service 
 by it. All the kingdom, except the duke’s own 
 dependents and kindred, rejoiced in the death of 
 this duke, but they found little cause, for after it 
 the king still persisted in his design of enslaving 
 them, and found other ministers, ready to serve 
 his self-willed ambition, such as were Noy his 
 attorney-general, who set on foot that hateful tax 
 of ship-money, and many more illegal exactions ; 
 and ten of the judges who perverted judgment in 
 the cause of those who refused the illegal imposi¬ 
 tion ; although there were even in that time found 
 two honest judges, who durst judge rightly against 
 the king, although he had changed the words 
 usual in their commissions, which were Quamdiu 
 bene se gesserint,* into another form, Durante 
 bene placito. Besides these, and a great rascally 
 company of flatterers and projectors, there were 
 all the corrupted tottering bishops and others of 
 the proud profane clergy of the land, who, by 
 their insolencies, grown odious to the people, bent 
 their strong endeavours to disaffect the prince to 
 his honest godly subjects, and to get a pretence of 
 power from him, to afflict those who would not 
 submit to their insolent dominion. But there 
 were two above all the rest, who led the van of the 
 king’s evil counsellors, and these were Laud, arch¬ 
 bishop of Canterbury, a fellow of mean extraction 
 and arrogant pride, and the Earl of Strafford, who 
 as much outstripped all the rest in favour as he 
 did in abilities, being a man of deep policy, stern 
 resolution, and ambitious zeal to keep up the glory 
 of his own greatness. In the beginning of this 
 king’s reign, this man had been a strong asserter 
 of the liberties of the people, among whom he had 
 gained himself an honourable reputation, and was 
 dreadful to the court party, who thereupon strewed 
 snares in his way, and when they found a breach 
 at his ambition, his soul was that way entered and 
 captivated. He was advanced first to be lord 
 president of the council in the north, to be a baron, 
 after an earl, then deputy of Ireland ; the nearest 
 to a favourite of any man since the death of the 
 Duke of Buckingham, who was raised by his first 
 master, and kept up by the second, upon no ac¬ 
 count of personal worth or any deserving abilities 
 in him, but only upon violent and private inclina¬ 
 tions of the princes ; but the Earl of Strafford 
 wanted not any accomplishment that could be 
 desired in the most serviceable minister of state : 
 besides, he having made himself odious to the 
 people, by his revolt from their interest to that of 
 
 * “ Quamdih bene se gesserint,” during good behaviour, 
 as long as they act right. “ Durante bene placito,” durin; 
 the king’s good pleasure. ' | 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 the oppressive court, he was now obliged to keep 
 up his own interest with his new party, by all the 
 malicious practices that pride and revenge could 
 inspire him with. But above all these the kino- 
 had another instigator of his own violent purpose! 
 more powerful than all the rest, and that was the 
 queen, who, grown out of her childhood, began 
 to turn her mind from those vain extravagancies 
 she lived in at first, to that which did less become 
 her, and was more fatal to the kingdom, which never 
 is in any place happy, where the hands which were 
 made only for distaffs affect the management of 
 sceptres.—-If any one object the fresh example of 
 Queen Elizabeth, let them remember that the 
 felicity of her reign was the effect of her submis¬ 
 sion to her masculine and wise councillors ; but 
 wherever male princes are so effeminate as to 
 suffer women of foreign birth and different reli¬ 
 gions to intermeddle with the affairs of state, it is 
 always found to produce sad desolations ; and it 
 hath been observed that a French queen never 
 brought any happiness to England : some kind of 
 fatality, too, the English imagined to be in her name 
 of Marie, which, ’tis said, the king rather chose to 
 have her called by than her other, Henrietta, be¬ 
 cause the land should find a blessing in that name, 
 which had been more unfortunate ; but it was not 
 in his power, though a great prince, to control 
 destiny. This lady being by her priests affected 
 with the meritoriousness of advancing her own 
 religion, whose principle it is to subvert all other, 
 applied that way her great wit and parts, and the 
 power her haughty spirit kept over her husband, 
 who was enslaved in his affection only to her, 
 though she had no more passion for him than what 
 served to promote her designs. Those brought 
 her into a very good correspondency with the arch¬ 
 bishop and his prelatical crew, both joining in the 
 cruel design of rooting the godly out of the land. 
 The foolish protestants were meditating recon¬ 
 ciliations with the church of Rome, who embraced 
 them as far as they would go, carrying them in 
 hand, as if there had been a possibility of bringing 
 such a thing to pass : meanwhile they carried on 
 their design by them, and had so ripened it, that 
 nothing but the mercy of God prevented the utter 
 subversion of protestantism in the three kingdoms. 
 
 7 how muc h soever their designs were framed 
 in the dark, God revealed them to his servants, 
 and most miraculously ordered providences for 
 their preservation. About the year 1639, the 
 Scots, having the English service-book obtruded 
 upon them violently, refused it, and took a national 
 covenant against it, and entered England with a 
 great army, to bring their complaints to the king, 
 which his unfaithful ministers did much, as they 
 supposed, misreport. The king himself levied an 
 army against them, wherein he was assisted by 
 the nobility and gentry, but most of all by the pre¬ 
 lates, insomuch that the war got the name of bellum 
 episcopale*; but the commonalty of the nation, 
 being themselves under grievous bondage, were 
 loth to oppose a people that came only to claim 
 their just liberties. When the king was at York, 
 the chief of the Scotch covenanters came, under a 
 pretence of treating with the king, but their chief 
 intent was to disabuse the nobility of England, and 
 to take off their edge against them by remonstrating 
 those grievanc es and oppressions from the pre- 
 * The bishops’ war. 
 
 latical innovators, which had forced them thus to 
 defend their religion and liberties. This they did 
 so effectually, that the hearts of the English were 
 much moved towards them, and the king per¬ 
 ceiving it, by their mediations, consented to a dis¬ 
 sembled peace for that time, and returned home. 
 But the Scots, unsatisfied in the performance of 
 their articles, made preparation for a second re¬ 
 turn into England; whereupon the king, in his 
 anger and necessity, was forced to have recourse 
 to the long-neglected remedy of parliaments, and 
 assembled one at Westminster, the 13th of April, 
 1640, which he suffered to sit but twenty-one days’ 
 and broke it up again, apprehending that if he had’ 
 suffered them to sit a day longer, they would have 
 voted against the war with Scotland, which he 
 was violently bent to prosecute. 
 
 The bishops at that time devised, as an anti¬ 
 covenant, in their convocation house, that execra¬ 
 ble oatn known by the name of th eet caster a , wherein 
 all ministers were required to swear to uphold the 
 government of the church of England by arch¬ 
 bishops, deans, archdeacons, &c. After this the 
 Scots enter England, the king makes a second ex¬ 
 pedition into the north against them, and sends part 
 of his army to keep the passes upon the river 
 Tyne : but the soldiers being raw and heartless to 
 this war, and the commanders themselves inex¬ 
 perienced, they were vanquished, and the Scots 
 forced their way, after they had been refused to 
 pass quietly by, with their petitions in their hands, 
 and thus possessed themselves of Newcastle and 
 Durham. At that time the Scots had put forth 
 a declaration, wherein they had affirmed their in¬ 
 tentions not to laydown arms till the reformed 
 religion were settled in both nations upon sure 
 grounds, and the causers of these present troubles 
 brought to public justice, and that in a parliament. 
 This was so plausible to the English, that the kino-, 
 finding both the hearts and hands of his people 
 fail him on this occasion, was induced to grant 
 the petition of twelve noble lords, who at that 
 time interposed, and calling together all his lords 
 at York, agreed upon a parliament at London, to 
 convene the third of November following. In the 
 mean time there was a treaty condescended to of 
 sixteen lords of each side, Scotch and English, 
 who agreed upon a cessation between both armies 
 for the present, in order to a peace, to be concluded 
 at London with the parliament, who met as 
 appointed in November. 
 
 They began with throwing down monopolies, 
 and then impeached the Earl of Strafford of high 
 treason, who, after a solemn trial and hot disputes 
 on both sides, was at length attainted of treason, 
 and the king, against his own mind, to serve his 
 ends, gave him up to death f. The archbishop of 
 Canterbury was also made prisoner upon an 
 accusation of high treason, for which he after 
 suffered ; Wren, bishop of Norwich , was likewise 
 
 t Whoever has read the propositions delivered to his 
 majesty by the Earl of Strafford, for bridlingof parliaments 
 and increase of his revenue, which is preserved in the 
 third volume of Ludlow’s Memoirs, p. 322, ingenious, bold, 
 and dangerous beyond example, will think him richly to 
 have deserved his fate, but not at the hand of Charles, who 
 herein acted so treacherously by his friends, that their 
 very adversaries are shocked at it, and fixed on his repu¬ 
 tation a deep and indelible stain; accordingly he seems all 
 his life long to have borne in mind an incessant regret of 
 this crime. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 31 
 
 committed to the Tower ; several other prelatical 
 preachers were questioned for popish and treason¬ 
 able doctrines ; the Star-chamber, an unjust and 
 arbitrary court, was taken away, and the high- 
 commission court ; an act was procured for a 
 triennial parliament, and another for the continu¬ 
 ation of this, that it should not be broken up 
 without their own consent. There were great 
 necessities for money, by reason of the two armies 
 that were then maintained in England, and the 
 people would give the king no money without some 
 I ease of grievances, which forced him against his 
 inclination to grant those bills, which, after he had 
 granted, he found he had bound up his own hands*, 
 and therefore privately encouraged plots that were 
 \ in those times contrived against the parliament. 
 One of them was to have rescued the Earl of 
 Strafford out of prison, and put him at the head 
 of eight thousand Irish, which the king would not 
 consent to disband, when the parliament had some 
 ! time before moved him to it ; then the English 
 army in the north should have been brought up 
 j and engaged against the parliament itself upon a 
 pretence of maintaining the king’s prerogative, 
 i episcopacy, and some other such things. This 
 plot was managed by Percy, Germyn, Goring, 
 Wilmot, Ashburnham, Pollard, Suckling, O’Neale, 
 and others, of whom some confessed and impeached 
 their fellows, others fled, others were put in prison. 
 While this parliament was sitting, the king would 
 needs, contrary to their desires, take a journey to 
 Scotland, and passed by the two disbanding armies 
 in his journey, where some report that he secretly 
 attempted to urge the Scotch army against the 
 parliament, which then succeeded not. The 
 houses had rejourned for some time, and left a 
 standing committee of fifty to prepare businesses. 
 About that time a plot was discovered to them 
 ! from Scotland, against the lives of some of the 
 greatest peers of that kingdom ; the committee, 
 fearing the like attempts from the same spring, 
 
 . placed strong guards in divers parts of the city of 
 London. The king’s design in going to Scotland 
 was variously conjectured, but this was a certain 
 effect of it, that it retarded all the affairs of the 
 government of England, which the king had put 
 into such disorder that it was not an easy task 
 to reform what was amiss, and redress the real 
 l’ grievances of the people ; but yet the parliament 
 shewed such a wonderful respect to the king, that 
 they never mentioned him, as he was, the sole 
 author of all those miscarriages, but imputed them 
 to evil councillors, and gave him all the submissive 
 L language that could have been used to a good 
 ; prince, fixing all the guilt upon his evil councillors 
 | and ministers of state, which flattery I fear they 
 j have to answer for ; I am sure they have thereby 
 : exposed themselves to much scandal f. While 
 
 ; * This act for perpetuating the parliament was in fact 
 
 j that which gave them a clear ascendancy over the king. 
 
 The proposing this, as it showed the ingenuity and judg- 
 I ment of Mr. Pierrepont, to whom Mrs. Hutchinson attri- 
 ! hutes it, so does it the weakness of the king and his coun- 
 j sellors, who having granted this, had no longer any power 
 J of refusal left.—For extraordinary evils, extraordinary 
 r rem edies are often sought, but this, as it soon proved too 
 | strong for the king, so was it at last thought too strong for 
 j the people. The omnipotence of parliament would be 
 indeed dreadful alike to both if, instead of being amov- 
 able, it was permanent. 
 
 t This is an oversight of Mrs. Hutchinson’s, of which she 
 
 the king was in Scotland, that cursed rebellion in 
 Ireland broke out, wherein above two hundred 
 thousand were massacred in two months’ space, 
 being surprised, and many of them most inhumanly 
 butchered and tormented; and besides the slain, 
 abundance of poor families stripped and sent 
 naked away, out of all their possessions ; and had 
 not the providence of God miraculously prevented 
 the surprise of Dublin castle, the night it should 
 have been seized, there had not been any remnant 
 of the protestant name left in that country. As 
 soon as this sad news came to the parliament, they 
 vigorously set themselves to the work of relieving 
 them, but then the king returned from Scotland, 
 and being sumptuously welcomed home by the 
 city, took courage thereby against the parliament, 
 and obstructed all their proceedings for the effec¬ 
 tual relief of Ireland. Long was he before he 
 could be drawn to proclaim these murderers 
 rebels, and when he did, by special command, 
 there were but forty proclamations planted, and 
 care taken that they should not be much dispersed ; 
 which courses afflicted all the good protestants in 
 England, and confirmed that the rebellion in Ire¬ 
 land received countenance from the king and 
 queen of England. The parliament, beset with 
 so many difficulties, were forced for their own 
 vindication to present the king with a petition and 
 a remonstrance of the state of the kingdom, 
 wherein they spared him as much as truth would 
 bear, and complained only of his ill counsellors 
 and ministers ; but this, instead of admonishing, 
 exasperated him, and was answered with another 
 declaration of his ; and upon several occasions the 
 parliament being enforced to justify their proceed¬ 
 ings publicly, and the king setting forth replies, 
 these open debates were but the prologue to the 
 ensuing tragedy. The city declaring their good 
 affections to the parliament by a petition, gave the 
 king distrust, and he was observed to entertain an 
 extraordinary guard of cavaliers, who killed and 
 wounded some of the poor unarmed men that 
 passed by his house at Whitehall, and the parlia¬ 
 ment, conceiving themselves not safe, desired a 
 guard might be allowed them under the command 
 of the Earl of Essex ; but he refused it, with an 
 assurance that he would command such a guard 
 to wait upon them as he would be reponsible to 
 Almighty God for, and that the safety of all and 
 every one of them was as dear to him as that of his 
 own person and children. Yet the very next day 
 after this false message he came to the house of 
 commons, attended with his extraordinary guard 
 of about four hundred gentlemen and soldiers, 
 armed with swords and pistols, and there demanded 
 five of their members, whom not finding there (for 
 a great lady at court had before informed one of 
 them of his coming, and the house ordered them 
 to retire) he returned, leaving the house under a 
 high sense of this breach of their privilege. At 
 this time the people began in great numbers to 
 bring petitions to the king and parliament, to beg 
 a more cheerful concurrence between them for 
 the relief of Ireland, and to encourage the parlia¬ 
 ment in their honourable endeavours for the relief 
 
 is seldom guilty. Good policy required then, as it does now, 
 that the king should be held incapable of wrong, and the 
 criminality fixed on ministers, who are amenable to the 
 law. If the patriots of that day were the inventors of this 
 maxim, we are highly obliged to them. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 of both kingdoms. The king was offended at this, 
 and retired first to Hampton-court, then went 
 with the queen to Canterbury, whom he sent from 
 thence into Holland with her daughter, lately 
 married to the prince of Orange, under pretence 
 of conducting her to her own court, but really to 
 manage his business abroad, and procure arms to 
 be employed against the parliament, by the sale of 
 the crown jewels, which she carried over with her. 
 After her departure, the king, taking the prince 
 and the duke of York with him, went to Theo¬ 
 balds, whither the parliament sent a petition to 
 him to return to his parliament and abide near 
 London, and that he would not carry the prince 
 away with him, and that he would grant the 
 militia of the kingdom to be put into such hands 
 as the parliament should recommend, and might 
 confide in ; all which he denied, and went imme¬ 
 diately to Newmarket, and from thence to York ; 
 all this while, by many false pretences, really 
 obstructing the relief of bleeding Ireland, and 
 seducing many of the poor people of England into 
 blood and ruin. 
 
 In conducting the state of England in those 
 days, wherein he, whose actions I am tracing, 
 began to enter into his part in this great tragedy, 
 I have been too long for that I intended, and too 
 short to give a clear understanding of the righteous¬ 
 ness of the parliament’s cause * ; which I shall 
 desire you to inform yourselves better of by their 
 own printed papers, and Mr. May’s history, 
 which I find to be impartially true, so far as he 
 hath carried it on, saving some little mistakes in 
 his own judgment, and misinformations which 
 some vain people gave of the state, and more 
 indulgence to the king’s guilt than can justly be 
 allowed. 
 
 To take up my discourse of Mr. Hutchinson 
 where I left it, he was now come to his own house 
 at Owthorpe, about the time when the Irish mas¬ 
 sacre was acted, and finding humours begin to be 
 very stirring, he applied himself to understand 
 the things then in dispute, and read all the public 
 papers that came forth between the king and par- 
 | liament, besides many other private treatises, 
 
 I both concerning the present and foregoing times. 
 Hereby he became abundantly informed in his 
 understanding, and convinced in conscience, of the 
 righteousness of the parliament’s cause, in point 
 of civil right; and though he was satisfied of the 
 endeavours to reduce + popery, and subvert the 
 true protestant religion, which indeed was appa¬ 
 rent to every one that impartially considered it, 
 yet he did not think that so clear a ground of the 
 war, as the defence of the just English liberties ; 
 and although he was clearly swayed by his own 
 judgment and reason to the parliament, he, think¬ 
 ing he had no warrantable call at that time to do 
 anything more, contented himself with praying for 
 peace. At that time Mr. Henry Ireton was in 
 the country, and being a kinsman of Mr. Hutchin¬ 
 son’s, and one that had received so much advan- 
 
 * Probably few people will think Mrs. Hutchinson has been 
 too prolix, many will that she has been too concise. Mr. 
 May’s history comes down only to September, 1643, which is 
 much to be regretted, as he may justly be called an impar¬ 
 tial and clear historian, but is little read, probably because 
 his history finishes before that period which was the most 
 interesting. 
 
 1 Reduce, Latin reducere, to bring back, restore, revive. 
 
 tage to himself and his family in the country, by 
 Sir Thomas Hutchinson’s countenance and pro¬ 
 tection, that he seemed a kind of dependant upon 
 him, being besides a very grave, serious, religious 
 person, there was a great league of kindness and 
 good-will between themj. Mr. Ireton, being very 
 active in promoting the parliament, and the godly 
 interest in the country, found great opposition by 
 some projectors and others of corrupt interest ! 
 that were in commission of the peace, whereupon | 
 making complaint at the parliament, he procured j 
 some of them to be put out of the commission, 
 and others, better affected, to be put into their 
 rooms, of which Mr. Hutchinson was one ; but he 
 then forbore to take his oath, as not willing to 
 launch out rashly into public employments while 
 such a storm hung threatening over-head ; yet his 
 good affections to godliness and the interest of his 
 country being a glory that could not be concealed, 
 many of his honest neighbours made applications 
 to him, and endeavoured to gain his conduct, 
 which he at first in modesty and prudence would 
 not too hastily rush into§. The parliament had 
 made orders to deface the images in all churches: 
 within two miles of his house there was a church, i 
 
 ■ i ^ s h will be seen in the sequel that Mr. Hutchinson 
 reposed a very great confidence in Ireton, and even allowed 
 to the information he received from him such weight in 
 forming his judgment as he did to that of no one else, it 
 may be well to examine how far the one was deserving, 
 and the other discerning, in this. 
 
 The question will be probably decided to general satis¬ 
 faction upon the testimony of Whitelock and Ludlow, men 
 of very different dispositions, but both of great good sense 
 and knowledge of their subject. Whitelock, in speaking 
 of some reforms proposed in the election and composition 
 of the House of Commons, says, “ Ireton was chiefly em¬ 
 ployed in them, having learned some grounds of law, and 
 having a laborious and working brain and fancy.” When he 
 comes to speak of the reforms of the law which Ireton like¬ 
 wise meditated, he says, “ he was a man full of invention 
 and industry, who had a little knowledge of the law, which 
 led him into the more errors.” But when by his death the 
 jealousy lest he should bring about those reforms which ] 
 Whitelock and most of the lawyers were averse to, had 
 ceased, he says of him, page 516, “ this gentleman was a 
 person very active, industrious, and stiff in his ways and 
 purposes; he was of good abilities for council as well as 
 action, made much use of his pen, and was very forward 
 to reform the proceedings in law, wherein his having been | 
 bred a lawyer was a great help to him. He was stout in 
 the field, and wary and prudent in councils; exceedingly 
 forward as to the business of a commonwealth. Cromwell 
 had a great opinion of him, and no man could prevail so 
 much, nor order him so far, as Ireton could.” But Lud¬ 
 low, who viewed him more constantly and closely in a 
 post of great power and temptation, that of deputy of ; 
 Ireland, being himself next in command to him, gives the 
 following account of his conduct in one instance, which 
 will render all others superfluous: “ The parliament also I 
 ordered an act to be brought in for settling two thousand 
 per annum on the lord-deputy Ireton, the news of which 
 being brought over was so unacceptable to him, that he 
 said, they had many just debts, which he desired they 
 would pay before they made any such presents; that he 
 had no need of their land, and would not have it; and 
 that he should be more contented to see them doing the 
 service of the nation, than so liberal in disposing of the 
 public treasure.” 
 
 § Mr. Hutchinson, being born in the latter end of the 
 year 1616, was only about three-and-twenty years old at 
 this period, when some may think this modesty became 
 him. It was not the fashion of those times to arrive at 
 the perfection of wisdom and judgment so early as in our 
 days. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 33 
 
 I —-- 
 
 where Christ upon the cross, the Virgin,and John, 
 had been fairly set up in a window over the altar, 
 and sundry other superstitious paintings of the 
 priest’s own ordering were drawn upon the walls. 
 When the order for razing out those reliques of 
 superstition came, the priest only took down the 
 heads of the images, and laid them carefully up in 
 his closet, and would have had the church officers 
 ;o have certified that the thing was done according 
 to order ; whereupon they came to Mr. Hutchin¬ 
 son, and desired him that he would take the pains 
 to come and view their church, which he did, and 
 upon discourse with the parson, persuaded him to 
 I blot out all the superstitious paintings, and break 
 j the images in the glass, which he consented to ; 
 but being ill-affected, was one of those who began 
 to brand Mr. Hutchinson with the name of 
 Puritan. 
 
 At that time most of the gentry of the country, 
 were disaffected to the parliament ; most of the 
 middle sort, the able substantial freeholders, and 
 the other commons, who had not their dependence 
 upon the malignant nobility and gentry, adhered 
 to the parliament. These, when the king was at 
 York, made a petition to him to return to the 
 parliament, which, upon their earnest entreaty, 
 Mr. Hutchinson went, with some others, and pre¬ 
 sented at* York, where, meeting his cousins the 
 Birons, they were extremely'troubled to see him 
 there, on that account. After his return, Sir 
 John Biron being likewise come to his house at 
 Newsted, Mr. Hutchinson went to visit him there, 
 and not finding him, returned to Nottingham, five 
 miles short of his own house. There, going to 
 the mayor to hear some news, he met with such 
 as he expected not, for as soon as he came in, the 
 mayor’s wife told him, that the sheriff of the 
 county was come to fetch away the magazine that 
 belonged to the trained bands of the county, which 
 was left in her husband’s trust, and that her hus¬ 
 band had sent for the country to acquaint them, 
 
 * Persons of the description which now bears the name 
 of Yeomanry, seem to have been passed over by Charles 
 and his advisers as of little consequence, and perhaps 
 this was the real ground of the grand error they were 
 in of supposing they had all or most of the strength of the 
 i nation with them, because they had most of the nobility 
 and richer gentry: whereas it was found, when a general 
 i movement took place, that the great bulk of the people 
 j was against them, and, like an overwhelming tide, bore 
 down all before it. Yet he and they had abundant warn¬ 
 ings by this and such-like petitions, and by associations 
 1 which began very early to be entered into ; or still earlier 
 I in the expedition against the Scots, wherein the averseness 
 
 I of the common soldiers to the war was so evident, that it 
 compelled the patching up a peace. «• And, astonishing 
 as it might be, (says May, p. 64,) it was seen that the com¬ 
 mon people were sensible of public interest and religion, 
 when lords and gentlemen seemed not to be." It is true 
 that the mass of the people, having little time for contem¬ 
 plation, are content to let those to whom affluence gives 
 leisure, think for them ; but when they do think for them¬ 
 selves, and strongly adopt a sentiment, he is a bold man, 
 and ought to have astonishing resources, who contravenes 
 / it- That will be generally, if not always, found the wiser 
 government which informs itself well as to the real bent 
 of the public mind : and, if it is misled by a faction, takes 
 I, the way of candour and frankness to dispel the mist of 
 error or prejudice, but avoids to do violence to the general 
 opinion. The editor of this work is proud of being the first 
 person who, two years before its adoption, suggested an 
 appeal to the sense and spirit of the nation by the associa¬ 
 tion of armed volunteers. 
 
 but she feared it would be gone before they could 
 come in, whereupon Mr. Hutchinson, taking his 
 brother from his lodgings along with him, pre¬ 
 sently went to the town’s-hall, and going up to my 
 Lord Newarkf, lord lieutenant, told him, that 
 
 f Eldest son of the Earl of Kingston, and brother of two 
 Mr. Pierreponts mentioned in this work; this nobleman 
 was afterwards created Marquis of Dorchester, and will 
 be spoken of under that title in the sequel.—In the diary 
 mentioned in the first page of the preface, the dialogue 
 between Lord Newark and Mr. Hutchinson is set down 
 at full length, and as it may be an object of curiosity to 
 some of our readers it is here inserted in a smaller type. 
 
 Mr. Hutchinson asking who were above, he was told 
 that the lord lieutenant, my Lord Newark, was there, to 
 whom he sent his name and desired to speak with him : 
 and being come up, found in the room, where the powder 
 was weighing, my Lord Newark, the sheriff Sir John 
 Digby, and two or three captains: Mr. Hutchinson, address¬ 
 ing himself to my lord only, spoke to him— 
 
 II. My lord, hearing that there was some question, con¬ 
 cerning the county’s powder, I am come to kiss your lord¬ 
 ship’s hands, and to beseech you that I may know what 
 your desires and intents are concerning it ? 
 
 N. Cousin, the king desires to borrow it of the country 
 to supply his great necessities. 
 
 II. I beseech your lordship, what commission have you 
 to demand this ? 
 
 N. Upon my honour, I have a commission from his 
 Majesty, but it is left behind me : but I will engage my 
 honour it shall be repaid the country. 
 
 II. Your lordship’s honour is an engagement, would be 
 accepted for more than I am worth; but in such an occa¬ 
 sion as this, the greatest man’s engagement in the kingdom, 
 cannot be a satisfaction to the country. 
 
 N. The king’s intents are only to borrow it, and if the 
 country will not lend it, he will pay for it. 
 
 H. My Lord, ’tis not the value of the powder we endea¬ 
 vour to preserve, but in times of danger, as these are, those 
 things which serve for our defence are not valuable at 
 any price, should you give us as many barrels of gold as you 
 take barrels of powder. 
 
 N. Upon my faith and honour, cousin, it shall be restored 
 in ten days. 
 
 II. My lord, such is the danger of the times, that for 
 aught we know, we may in less than four days be ruined 
 for want of it; and I beseech your lordship to consider, 
 how sad a thing it is, in these times of Avar, to leave a poor 
 country and the people in it, naked and open to the injury 
 of every passenger; for if you take our powder, you may 
 as well take our arms, without which we are unable to 
 make use of them, and I hope your lordship Avill not dis¬ 
 arm the country. 
 
 N. Why, who should the country fear ? I am their lord 
 lieutenant and engaged Avith my life and honour to defend 
 them ! Avhat danger are they in ? 
 
 H. Danger, yes, my lord, great danger ; there is a troop 
 of horse noAV in the toAvn, and it hath often happened so 
 that they have committed great outrages and insolencies, 
 calling divers honest men puritans and rogues, with divers 
 other provoking terms and carriages ; I myself was abused 
 by some of them, as I passed on the road: I chanced to 
 meet some of these gentlemen, Avho, as soon as I was past, 
 inquired my name, and being told it, gave me another, 
 saying among themselves, that I Avas a puritan and a 
 traitor; as two or three honest men that came behind 
 told me. Besides your lordship may be far of, and we 
 ruined before you can come to us, being unarmed and not 
 able to defend ourselves from any body, and this country 
 being a road through which, under the name of soldiers, 
 rude people daily pass from the north to south, and terrify 
 the country ; which if they knew to be naked and unarmed, 
 they would thereby be encouraged to greater insolencies 
 and mischiefs. 
 
 N. The king’s occasions are such and so urgent as I 
 cannot dispense with it for any reasons, but must needs 
 have it. 
 
34 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 bearing some dispute concerning the country’s 
 powder, he was come to wait on his Lordship, to 
 
 know kis desires and intents concerning it. My 
 Lord answered him, that the king, having great 
 
 H. I hope your lordship will not deny that the country 
 i hath a right, interest, and property in it. 
 
 N. I do not deny it. 
 
 H. Then, my lord, I hope his Majesty will not command 
 it from them. 
 
 2V. No, he doth but desire to borrow it. 
 
 H. Then, I hope, if he do but desire to borrow it, his 
 Majesty hath signified his request to those that h ave in terest 
 j in it, under his hand. 
 
 | N. Upon my honour he hath, hut I left it behind me. 
 
 H. I beseech your lordship then, that you would not take 
 it away, till you have acquainted the country with it, who 
 only have power to lend it; and if your loidship be pleased 
 to do this, I will engage myself that by to-morrow at twelve 
 of the clock, that part of the country who have intorest in 
 the powder, shall all wait on your lordship and give you 
 their resolutions. 
 
 N. The king’s occasions cannot admit of that delay. 
 
 H. I beseech of your lordship, yet be pleased to consider 
 the dangerous consequence of taking it without the coun¬ 
 try’s consent, and be pleased but to stay ’till they can 
 come in. 
 
 N. That time is more than his Majesty’s necessities can 
 dispense withal. 
 
 With that Mr. Hutchinson went down stairs, where by 
 that time a good, company of the country were gathered 
 together, to whom Mr. Hutchinson told what my lord had 
 said to him, and they desired him that he would but stand 
 to them, and they would part with every drop of blood out of 
 their bodies before he should have it; and said besides, 
 that they would go up and break my lord’s neck and the 
 sheriff’s out of the windows; but Mr. Hutchinson desired 
 them to stay below, till he had once more spoken to my 
 lord, and then, taking only one or two more with him, 
 went up and spoke to my lord. 
 
 II. My lord, I am again, at the request of the country, 
 that are below, come to your lordship, and do once more 
 humbly beseech you, to consider the business you are about, 
 before you proceed further in it, for it may prove of dan¬ 
 gerous consequence if you go on. 
 
 N. Cousin, I am confident it cannot, for the country will 
 not deny this to the king. 
 
 H. IBs very probable they will not, if your lordship 
 please to have patience, till they can be called in, that they 
 may be acquainted with his Majesty’s desires. 
 
 N. His Majesty is very well assured of the willingness 
 and cheerfulness of the greater part of the country to it. 
 
 II. My lord, I do not know what assurance his Majesty 
 hath of it, but if you please to look out of this window, 
 (pointing to the countrymen below in the streets,) you will 
 see no inconsiderable number gathered, who I fear will not 
 | be willing to part with it. 
 
 N. Those are but some few factious men, not to he con¬ 
 sidered.— 
 
 II. My lord, we have been happy yet, in these unhappy 
 differences, to have had no blood shed, and I am confident 
 your lordship is so noble and tender of your country, that 
 it would very much trouble you, to have a hand in the first 
 man’s blood that should be spent in this quarrel. 
 
 A. Cousin, it cannot come to that, fear it not, (this was 
 spoken very slightly and contemptuously,) his Majesty’s 
 occasions are urgent and must be served. 
 
 (With that, the country came very fast up, which when 
 the cavalier captains saw, they slunk down). 
 
 II. Why then, my lord, I must plainly tell you, not one 
 here but will lose every drop of blood in his body, before 
 he will part with one corn of it, without your lordship can 
 show either a command or a request for it under his 
 Majesty’s hand and seal, or that the country be called toge¬ 
 ther to give their free consent to it, for we have all property 
 and interest in it, being members of this county, and it 
 being bought with our money, for the particular defence 
 and safety of the same. 
 
 My lord desired to borrow part of it, but that being denied, 
 
 | he turned to Sir John Digby and took him to the window, 
 
 where, after he had whispered with him a while, Sir John 
 Digby laid down his pen, ink, and paper, with which he 
 had been taking an account of the powder, match, and 
 bullet. The countrymen desired my lord aloud, that he 
 would not take away their powder, out of the country; 
 upon which, turning to them, he thus spoke— 
 
 “ Gentlemen, his Majesty was assured by some of the 
 cheerfulness of this country’s affections to him, which I am 
 very sorry to see so much failing in, and that the country 
 should come so much short of this town, which hath cheer¬ 
 fully lent his Majesty one barrel of powder, but it seems 
 he can have none from you ; I pray God you do not repent 
 this carriage of yours towards his Majesty, which he must 
 be acquainted withal.” 
 
 A countryman, standing forth, asked his lordship this 
 question, “ Whether, if he were to take a journey into a 
 place where probably he might be set upon by thieves and 
 robbers, and having a charge about him, if any friend 
 should ask him to lend his sword, he would part with it 
 and go himself without ? ” My lord, the case is ours, our 
 wives, children, and estates, all depend upon this coun¬ 
 try’s safety: and how can it be safe in these dangerous 
 times, when so many troops and companies pass through 
 and commit outrages and abuses among us, if we have not 
 arms and powder wherewith to defend us ? 
 
 My lord made no reply, but bade the men whom he had 
 employed to weigh up the powder desist; and so went down 
 the stairs. Mr. Hutchinson followed him, and as he went, 
 an ancient gentleman, who was with my lord, whose face 
 and name were both unknown to him, came to him and 
 said these words:—“ Stand to it, I’ll warrandyou, gentle¬ 
 men, it is well done.” And as they passed through a low 
 room, my lord took Mr. Hutchinson aside and said, 
 
 N. Cousin, I must acquaint the king with this ! 
 
 H. My lord, it’s very likely you must, being employod 
 upon his Majesty's service, give him an account. 
 
 N. Nay cousin, (smiling,) I mean not so, but I must ac¬ 
 quaint him, and I am sorry I must, that you are the head 
 and ringleader of a faction, whereby youhinder his Majesty’s 
 service. 
 
 II. My lord, I do not conceive how this can be a faction, 
 
 I speaking only out of the noble respect and honour I bear 
 your lordship, in private to you, to prevent a mischief, the 
 sense of these men, who I perceived w r ere come to know by 
 what authority, and why, their powder, which is their 
 proper goods, and only means of safety, in these times of 
 danger, should be taken from them; and if it were a fac¬ 
 tion, I am not the head of it: I, accidentally coming to town 
 from Sir John Biron’s last night, and neither knowing nor 
 imagining anyof this business, was this morning importuned 
 to wait on your lordship, at the town’s hall, by many coun¬ 
 trymen, who informed me you were taking away their 
 powder out of the country. 
 
 N. Cousin, if you can answer it, I shall be glad of it: but 
 
 I’ll assure you I must let his Majesty know. 
 
 II. If his Majesty must know it, I am very happy I spoke 
 to none but your lordship ; who, I am confident, is so noble 
 that you will neither add nor diminish anything to my 
 prejudice, and then I am confident the justness and reason¬ 
 ableness of what I have said, with my own innocency in 
 speaking it, will bear me out. 
 
 N. Aye, cousin, but your name is up already. 
 
 H. It may be so, my lord ; and I believe those that set 
 it up had no good wishes to me, and as it rose, so, in the 
 name of God, let it fall; for I know my own clearness 
 and innocency in any thing that can be objected against 
 me. 
 
 N. Well, cousin, well; I am glad of your good resolution. 
 
 And so my lord left him. The gentlemen of the country 
 that were there, upon consideration, what they should do 
 with their powder, determined to return my lord thanks 
 for sparing it, and to lock it up with two locks, whereof 
 the sheriff should have one key, and the mayor another : 
 which accordingly was done; hut Mr. Hutchinson came 
 no more at my lord. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON 
 
 if 
 
 li 
 
 Jj necessities, desired to borrow it of the country. 
 
 I Mr. Hutchinson asked my lord what commission 
 i he had from his Majesty. My lord told him he 
 ; had one, but he had left it behind. Mr. Hutchin- 
 | son replied, that my lord’s affirmation was satis- 
 j factory to him, but the country would not be 
 j willing to part with their powder in so dangerous 
 a time, without an absolute command: my lord 
 ! urged that he would restore it in ten days, Mr. 
 j Hutchinson replied, they might have need of it 
 ! sooner, and he hoped my lord would not disarm his 
 j country in such a time of danger : my lord con- 
 ! temned the mention of danger, and asked what 
 | they could fear while he was their lord lieutenant 
 and ready to serve them with his life : Mr. Hut¬ 
 chinson told him of some grounds to apprehend 
 danger by reason of the daily passing of armed 
 men through the country, whereof there was now 
 one troop in the town, and that before they could 
 repair to my lord they might be destroyed in his 
 absence^ and withal urged to him examples of 
 their insolence; but my lord replied to all the 
 urgency of the king’s occasions for it, which were 
 such that he could not dispense with it. It was 
 in vain to argue with him the property the country 
 had in it, being bought with their money, and 
 therefore not to be taken without their consent : 
 my lord declared himself positively resolved to 
 j take it,whereupon Mr. Hutchinson left him. There 
 were in the room with him Sir John Digby, the 
 high sheriff of the county, who was setting down 
 the weight of the powder and match, and two or 
 three captains and others, that were busy weighing 
 the powder. By that time Mr. Hutchinson came 
 down, a good company of the country were 
 gathered together; whom Mr. Hutchinson ac¬ 
 quainted what had passed between him and my 
 lord, and they desired him that he would but 
 I please to stand to them, and they would part with 
 all their blood before he should have a corn of 
 it, and said moreover they would go up and tumble 
 my lord and the sheriff out of the windows. Mr. 
 Hutchinson, seeing them so resolved, desired them 
 to stay below while he went yet once again up to 
 my lord, which they did, and he told my lord 
 some of the country were come in, at whose 
 ! request he was again come to beseech his lordship 
 to desist from his design, which pursued might 
 be of dangerous consequence. My lord replied, 
 it could not be, for the king was very well assured 
 of the cheerful compliance of the greatest part of 
 the country with his service. Mr. Hutchinson 
 < told him, whatever assurance his Majesty might 
 j have, if his lordship pleased to look out, he might 
 | see no inconsiderable number below that would 
 | not willingly part with it. My lord replied they 
 | were but a few factious men, whereupon Mr. 
 I tutchinson told him, since it was yet the happi¬ 
 ness of these unhappy times that no blood had 
 been spilt, he should be sorry the first should 
 be shed upon my lord’s occasion in his own 
 country. My lord scornfully replied, Fear it not, 
 it cannot come to that, the king’s occasions are 
 urgent and must be served. Whereupon Mr. 
 Hutchinson looking out at the countrymen, they 
 came very fast up the stairs, and Mr. Hutchinson 
 told him however he slighted it, not one there 
 but would part with every drop of their blood 
 before they would part with it, except he could 
 show a command or request for it under the 
 
 king’s hand, or would stay till the country were 
 called in to give their consents, for it was their 
 property, and all had interest in it, as bought with 
 their money for the particular defence of the 
 county. Then my lord fell to entreaties to borrow 
 part of it, but that being also denied, he took the 
 sheriff aside, and, after a little conference, they 
 put up their books and left the powder, when my 
 lord, turning to the people, said to them, u Gentle¬ 
 men, his Majesty was by some assured of the 
 cheerfulness of this country’s affections to him, 
 whereof I am sorry to see so much failing, and 
 that the county should fall so much short of the 
 town, who have cheerfully lent his Majesty one 
 barrel of powder, but it seems he can have none 
 from you ; I pray God you do not repent this 
 carriage of yours towards his Majesty, which he 
 must be acquainted withal.” A bold countryman 
 then stepping forth, by way of reply asked my 
 lord, whether if he were to take a journey with 
 a charge into a place where probably he should 
 be set upon by thieves, if any friend should ask to 
 borrow a sword, he would part with it: my lord, 
 said he, the case is ours, our lives, wives, children, 
 and estates, all depend upon this country’s safety, 
 and how can it be safe in these dangerous times, 
 when so many rude armed people pass daily through 
 it, if we be altogether disarmed ? My lord made 
 no reply, but bade the men who were weighing 
 the powder desist, and went down. Mr. Hutchin¬ 
 son followed him down the stairs, when an ancient 
 gentleman that was sitting with my lord, came, 
 and whispering him commended his and the 
 country’s zeal, and bade them stand to it and 
 they would not be foiled. As they passed through 
 a long room below, my lord told Mr. Hutchinson 
 he was sorry to find him in the head of a faction : 
 Mr. Hutchinson replied, he could not tell how his 
 lordship could call that a faction which was so 
 accidental as his being at that time in the town, 
 where hearing what was in hand, out of respect 
 to his lordship, he only came to prevent mischief 
 and danger, which he saw likely to ensue. My 
 lord replied he must inform the king, and told 
 him his name was already up, to which Mr. 
 Hutchinson answered that he was glad, if the 
 king must receive an information of him, it must 
 be from so honourable a person ; and for his 
 name, as it rose, so in the name of God let it fall: 
 and so took his leave and went home. The rest 
 of the country that were there determined to 
 give my lord thanks for sparing their ammunition, 
 and locked it up with two locks, whereof the key 
 of the one was entrusted with the mayor of 
 Nottingham, the other with the sheriff of the 
 county, which accordingly was done *. . 
 
 In the mean time, at York, the king had sent 
 the parliament a message, that he intended to go 
 in person to Ireland, and to raise a guard for his 
 own person, about West Chester, which he would 
 arm out of his magazine at Hull. But the parlia¬ 
 ment, having before intercepted a letter of the Lord 
 i Digby’s, sent to the queen* from Middleburg in 
 
 * How my lord may have reported this matter to the 
 king signifies little; hut he probably remembered as a 
 kindness Mr. Hutchinson's interposition between him and 
 the more rough arguments of the countrymen ; for there 
 appears to have existed, on all suitable occasions, an 
 intercourse of friendship during the remainder of their 
 lives. 
 
 d 2 
 
36 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 Zealand, wherein he intimated, that, if the king 
 would retire to.some safe place, and declare him¬ 
 self, he should be able to wait upon him from 
 thence, &c. Upon this letter and other presump¬ 
 tions, they suspected that the chief end of the 
 king’s going northward, was to seize the magazine 
 at Hull, and arm himself from thence, against 
 them ; wherefore they sent a petition, for leave to 
 remove that magazine to the tower of London, and 
 accordingly had sent Sir John Hotham thither to 
 do it. Sir John prevented the Earl of Newcastle, 
 whom the king had sent for the same purpose, to 
 seize the magazine, and kept him out; at which 
 the king was much incensed, and on the 23rd of 
 April, 1642, went himself to Hull, attended with 
 some noblemen, gentlemen, and soldiers, and de¬ 
 manded entrance; but the gates were shut, and 
 Hotham, kneeling upon the wall, intreated the 
 king not to command that, which, without breach 
 of trust, he could not obey. 
 
 In conclusion, the king not getting entrance, 
 proclaimed Hotham traitor, and sent a complaint 
 of the affront to the parliament. The parliament 
 justified Hotham, many declarations about it were 
 published on both sides, many cross-commands, 
 the parliament authorizing Hotham to issue out 
 warrants to constables and other officers, to come 
 in armed, to the defence of Hull, the king for¬ 
 bidding it. The king meanwhile in the north, 
 summoned divers of the nobility and gentry to 
 attend him, and made speeches to them, to desire 
 a guard for his person, pretending danger from 
 the parliament. He then began to entertain sol¬ 
 diers, and was much encouraged by the defection 
 of divers lords and many of the commons’ house, 
 who forsook their trust and came to him at York 
 whereupon he called those w r ho remained only a 
 faction, a pretended parliament, and such names; 
 but they continued still petitioning to him, and the 
 well-affected and godly, in all countries, did the 
 like, that he would return to his parliament. The 
 papists all over England were high partakers with 
 him and promoters of his designs, and all the 
 debauched nobility and gentry, and their depen¬ 
 dents, and the lewder rout of people ; yet even of 
 these some there were, that had English hearts, 
 who came in to the parliament; but finding after¬ 
 wards that the advance of liberty and righteous¬ 
 ness could not consist with riot and ungodliness, 
 they forsook their party, and were content to be 
 the king’s slaves, rather than divorce themselves 
 from those lusts which found countenance from 
 both priests and princes on one side; and on the 
 other were preached down by the ministers, and 
 punished by the magistrates*. 
 
 Towards the end of May, the parliament sent 
 the king word, that if he would not disband his 
 forces, and rely upon the laws and affections of 
 his people, for his security, as all good princes 
 before him had done, they held themselves bound 
 
 * Whatever may be said at this day of the hypocrisy of 
 the religionists of those times, the most that can possibly 
 be allowed, is that their professions might somewhat outgo 
 their practice; hut this must in some degree befal every 
 Christian. No one can deny that, instead of captivating 
 vulgar minds by breaking the bonds of morality, as modern 
 demagogues have done, the forefathers of our liberties set 
 the pattern of a religious and decent conduct, and caused 
 the same to be observed in their armies with an exact¬ 
 ness that surprises us, and of which rigour many striking 
 examples are to be found in Whiteloek’s Memorials. 
 
 in duty to God and the people’s trust reposed in 
 them, and by the fundamental laws, to employ their 
 I utmost care and power, for securing the parlia¬ 
 ment and preserving the kingdom’s peace. Where¬ 
 upon they voted 1 , “ That it seems the king, seduced 
 by wicked counsel, intends a war against the par¬ 
 liament, &c. 
 
 “ That whensoever the king makes war upon 
 the parliament, it is a breach of the trust reposed 
 in him by the people, contrary to his oath, and 
 tending to the dissolution of this government. 
 
 “ That whosoever shall assist him in such wars, 
 are traitors, by the fundamental laws of this king¬ 
 dom, and have been so adjudged, in two acts of 
 parliament, 11 Richard II., and ] Henry IV.; 
 and that such persons ought to suffer as traitors.” 
 
 Hereupon nine of the lords, that first went to 
 the king, were summoned to return; who sending a 
 letter of denial, were, by the whole house of peers, 
 sentenced to be incapable of ever sitting again 
 as members of that house, or of benefit or privilege 
 of parliament, and to suffer imprisonment during 
 pleasure. Then the lord keeper, who had appeared 
 firm to the parliament, and voted with them, for 
 settling the militia by ordinance of parliament, ran 
 away to the king, after he had delivered up his 
 seal, the day before, to one the king sent for it. 
 
 The king, having this, issued out many proclama¬ 
 tions, and among the rest, one that no man should 
 obey the parliament’s warrants, about settling the 
 militia. The parliament on the other side, made 
 ordinances forbidding all men to raise arms, by 
 warrant from the king, without authority of par¬ 
 liament. And now they began to settle the king¬ 
 dom’s militia, both by land and sea, and made the 
 Earl of Warwick admiral, which place the king 
 had conferred upon Sir John Pennington, in the 
 room of the Earl of Northumberland, and com¬ 
 manded my lord of Warwick to resign ; but he 
 chose to obey the parliament, and got the fleet at I 
 length wholly into his hands, and took a ship with 
 ammunition coming to the king out of Holland. 
 
 The parliament now, despairing of the king’s 
 return, made an ordinance for money and plate to 
 be brought in, for raising arms for the cause; 
 which came in, in great abundance, upon public | 
 faith, and likewise horses and arms for the service. 
 
 The king, who had received money, arms, and I 
 ammunition, which the queen had procured in 
 Holland, by pawning the crown jewels, sent out 
 commissions of array, to arm the people in all coun¬ 
 ties, and mocked the parliament, using their own I 
 words, wherein they invited men to arm for the 
 defence of the protestant religion, the king’s person, 
 dignity, and authority, the laws of the land, the 
 peace of the kingdom, and privilege of parliament; 
 and thus deceived many people, and got contri¬ 
 butions of plate, money, and arms, in the country. 
 While these things were in transaction, the king 
 made a solemn protestation before the lords, as in 
 the presence of God, declaring that he would not 
 engage them in any war, against the parliament, 
 but only for his necessary defence ; that his desire 
 was to maintain the protestant religion, the liber- ' 
 ties of the subject, and privilege of parliament; 
 but the next day, he did some action, so contrary 
 to this protestation, that two of the lords durst 
 not stay with him, but returned to the parliament; 
 and one of them coming back through Notting- I 
 hamshire, acquainted Mr. Hutchinson with the 
 
37 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 sad sense he had, discovering that falsehood in the 
 king. 
 
 Now had the king raised an army of three 
 thousand foot, and one thousand horse, with 
 which he went to Beverley, in order to besiege 
 Hull. When he was within two hours’ march of 
 the place, Sir John Hotham floated the country 
 about it, and Sir John Mel drum, sallying out of 
 the town, with five hundred townsmen, made the 
 king’s party retreat to Beverley : but however 
 they beleagured the town, into which the parlia¬ 
 ment sent a relief of five hundred men by water, 
 with whom Meldrum made another sally, routed 
 the leaguer-soldiers, killed some, made others 
 prisoners, took the magazine of arms and ammu¬ 
 nition, which was in a barn, with their fire-balls, 
 and fired the barn. Hereupon the king’s counsel 
 of war broke up the siege, from whence the king 
 went back to York, and about the middle of 
 August came to Nottingham, where he set up his 
 standard royal, and hither his two nephews, Prince 
 Rupert and Prince Maurice, came to him, and 
 were put into commands. The king, marching 
 through Nottingham, Derby, and Leicester, called 
 together the trained bands as to attend him, dis¬ 
 armed those counties, and marched to Shrews¬ 
 bury, and there set up a mint, and coined the 
 plate that had been brought in to him. Here a 
 great many men came in to him, with whom, 
 marching into Warwickshire, he there fought his 
 first battle at a village called Keynton*; it not 
 being yet agreed who gained the victory that 
 day. 
 
 As the king on his part, made this progress, so 
 the parliament, on theirs, upon the twelfth of 
 July, voted an army to be raised, and the Earl of 
 Essex to be general of it. Divers of the lords, 
 and several members of the house of commons, 
 took commissions, and raised regiments and com¬ 
 panies under his command, who marched with 
 his army of about fourteen thousand horse and 
 foot to his rendezvous at Northampton, whither 
 the parliament sent a petition to him, to be de¬ 
 livered to the king, in a safe and honourable way ; 
 the sum of which was, to beseech him to forsake 
 those wicked people with whom he was, and not 
 to mix his danger with theirs, but to return to his 
 parliament, &c. The king, intending to make 
 Worcester a garrison, sent Prince Rupert thither ; 
 the Earl of Essex, to prevent him, sent other 
 forces, between whom there was some skirmish, 
 but the prince left the town at their approach. 
 My lord of Essex left a garrison in Northampton, 
 put others into Coventry and Warwick, and went 
 to Worcester. Here he made some stay, till the 
 king, marching from Shrewsbury,' there was 
 some apprehension of his going up to London, for 
 which cause my lord left part of h-is artillery 
 behind him, and followed the king’s motions, which 
 the king perceiving, took an opportunity, before 
 his artillery and the foot left with it were come 
 up to him, and resolved to give him battle; which 
 was not declined on the other side, but fought 
 with doubtful success, the circumstances whereof 
 may be read at large in the stories of those things. 
 
 * Commonly called Edge-hill fight. Both king and 
 parliament claimed the victory, hut our authoress shows 
 rather more candour than either. The king’s main design 
 of marching to London was however frustrated, and there¬ 
 fore the parliament might be most properly termed gainers. 
 
 The king’s general was slain, his standard was 
 taken, though not kept; but on the other side 
 also there were many brave men slain and pri¬ 
 soners. My lord of Essex marched to Coventry ; 
 the king to take up his winter quarters at Oxford, 
 from whence Prince Rupert flew about the coun¬ 
 tries with his body of horse, plundered and did 
 many barbarous things ; insomuch that London, 
 growing into apprehensions of the king’s army, 
 the parliament called back the Earl of Essex to 
 quarter about London; and he being returned 
 thither, the king was advanced as far as Cole- 
 brook, where he was presented with a petition 
 from the parliament for accommodation, to which 
 he answered, with a protestation to God, how much 
 he was grieved for his subjects’ sufferings, and, 
 in order to peace, was willing to reside near 
 London, to receive their propositions, and to 
 treat with them. As soon as ever the commis¬ 
 sioners were gone, the king advanced with his 
 horse and artillery towards London, and, taking 
 the advantage of a great mist, fell upon a broken 
 regiment of Col. Hollis’s quartered at Brainford, 
 and killed many of them, and had destroyed them 
 all, but that Brooke’s and Hampden’s regiments, 
 by Providence, came seasonably to their rescue ; 
 and then so many forces flocked with the general, 
 out of London, that the king was enclosed, and 
 the war had been ended, but that, I know not how, 
 three thousand of the parliament’s forces were 
 called away by their procurement who designed 
 the continuance of the war ; and so the king had 
 a way of retreat left open, by which he got back 
 to Oxford, and the parliament’s general was sent 
 out again with their army; whose proceedings I 
 shall take up again in their due places, so far as 
 is necessary to be remembered, for the story I 
 most particularly intend. 
 
 Before the flame of the war broke out in the 
 top of the cliimnies, the smoke ascended in every 
 country; the king had sent forth commissions of 
 array, and the parliament had given out commis¬ 
 sions for their militia, and sent off their members 
 into all counties to put them in execution. Be¬ 
 tween these in many places there were fierce con¬ 
 tests and disputes, almost to blood, even at the 
 first ; for in the progress every county had the 
 civil war, more or less, within itself. Some coun¬ 
 ties were in the beginning so wholly for the par¬ 
 liament, that the king’s interest appeared not in 
 them ; some so wholly for the king, that the godly, 
 for those generally were the parliament’s friends, 
 were forced to forsake their habitations, and seek 
 other shelters : of this sort was Nottinghamshire. 
 All the nobility and gentry, and their dependents, 
 were generally for the king, the chief of whose 
 names I shall sum up here, because I shall often 
 have occasion to mention them. The greatest 
 family was the Earl of Newcastle’sf,a lord so much 
 once beloved in his country that, when the first 
 expedition was against the Scots, the gentlemen 
 of the country set him forth two troops, one all of 
 gentlemen, the other of their men, who waited on 
 him into the north at their own charges. He had 
 indeed, through his great estate, his liberal hospi¬ 
 tality, and constant residence in his country, so 
 endeared them to him, that no man was a greater 
 
 t This title was at that time in the family of Cavendish, 
 of which this line ceased with the nobleman here men¬ 
 tioned. 
 
38 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 prince than he in all that northern quarter, till a 
 foolish ambition of glorious slavery carried him 
 to court, where he ran himself much in debt, to 
 purchase neglects of the king and queen, and 
 scorns of the proud courtiers. Next to him was 
 the Earl of Kingston, a man of vast estate, and 
 not less covetousness, who divided his sons be¬ 
 tween both parties, and concealed himself, till at 
 length his fate drew him to declare himself abso¬ 
 lutely on the king’s side, wherein he behaved him¬ 
 self honourably, and died remarkably. His eldest 
 son* was lord lieutenant of the county, and at that 
 time no nobleman had a greater reputation in the 
 court for learning and generosity than he, who 
 was so high of the king’s party, that the parlia¬ 
 ment was very much incensed against him. Lord 
 Chesterfield and all his family were highly of the 
 royal party : so was the Lord Chawortli; and the 
 Earl of Clare was very often of both parties, and 
 I think never advantaged either. All the popish 
 gentry were wholly for the king, whereof one 
 Mr. Golding, next neighbour to Mr. Hutchinson, 
 had been a private collector of the catholics’ con- 
 I tributions to the Irish rebellion, and for that was 
 j by the queen’s procurement made a knight and 
 baronet. Sir John Biron, afterwards Lord Biron, 
 and all his brothers bred up in arms, and valiant 
 men in their own persons, were all passionately 
 the king’s. Sir John Savill, a man of vast estate, 
 was the like: so were Sir Gervas Eyre, Sir John 
 Digby, Sir Matthew Palmer, Sir Thomas William- 
 j son, Sir Roger Cowper, Sir W. Hickman, Sir 
 Hugh Cartwright, Sir. T. Willoughby, Sir Thomas 
 ! Smith, Sir Thomas Blackwell, Markham, Perkins, 
 j Tevery, Pearce, Palme, Wood, Sanderson, Moore, 
 Mellish, Butler, with divers others.—Of the parlia- 
 j ment men, Mr. Sutton, afterwards Lord Lexington, 
 i andSir Gervas Clifton,forsook the parliament, went 
 i to the king, and executed his commission of array. 
 Mr. William Stanhope left the parliament, and 
 came home disaffected to them, whose eldest son 
 was after slain in the king’s service. Mr. Wil¬ 
 liam Pierrepont’}', second son of the Earl of King- 
 | ston, was of the parliament, though he served not 
 for his own country, to which notwithstanding he 
 
 * Lord Newark, before spoken of. In Collins’s Peerage, 
 j under the title of Duke of Kingston, there are cited sin¬ 
 gular proofs of this nobleman’s learning. 
 
 t Fi’om this gentleman the late Duke of Kingston and the 
 present Earl Manvers are lineally descended. His wisdom 
 as a politician is sufficiently evinced by this masterly 
 stroke, which decided the fate of the king and the parlia¬ 
 ment : of his moderation Whitelock speaks repeatedly: 
 of his eloquence there are preserved by Rushworth some 
 specimens, from one of which is extracted this, as a sin¬ 
 gular trait of candour and delicacy. “ It is pleasing to the 
 nature of man that others should'obey his will, and well- 
 i framed dispositions of. princes may easily be persuaded 
 | their power is unlimited, when they are also put in mind 
 I! that they have therefore more cause to do well, and for 
 | doing well are more renowned: for the most oppressive 
 
 i designs we have suffered under, the pretences to his 
 Majesty have been the good of his subjects: his is the sin, 
 who is to judge by the laws, who knows the laws are to 
 the contrary, yet puts and confirms such thoughts in his 
 prince. He that incites another to arbitrary government 
 | usually doth it for self-ends, and when they are com- 
 I passed, hates him for taking that power he himself per¬ 
 suaded him unto.” This will be found an elegant solution 
 i of the paradox which appears in the character given by 
 Mrs. Hutchinson of Charles the First, “ that so good a 
 1 man should make so bad a prince.” 
 
 was an ornament, being one of the wisest coun- | 
 sellors and excellent speakers in the house, and ! 
 by him was that bill promoted and carried on j 
 which passed for the continuation of this parlia- j 
 ment. He had a younger brother living at Not- J 
 tingham, who coldly owned the parliament. Sir j 
 Thomas Hutchinson continued with the parlia¬ 
 ment, was firm to their cause, but infinitely desi¬ 
 rous the difference might rather have been com¬ 
 posed by accommodation, than ended by conquest; 
 and therefore did not improve his interest to 
 engage the country in the quarrel, which, if he 
 could have prevented, he would not have had i 
 come to a war. He was, however, clearly on the j 
 parliament side, and never discouraged his two 
 sons, who thought this prudential tardiness in ! 
 their father was the declension of that vigour 
 which they derived from him, and which better 
 became their youth. It is true they were the j 
 foremost in point of time and in degree, except a j 
 piece of a nobleman that was after drawn in, who 
 owned the parliament’s interest in their country. 
 Mr. Henry Ireton, their cousin, was elder than ; 
 they, and having had an education in the strictest j 
 way of godliness, and being a very grave and j 
 solid person, a man of good learning, great under- I 
 standing, and other abilities, to which was joined j 
 a willing and zealous heart to the cause and' his * 1 
 country; he was the chief promoter of the parlia- j 
 ment’s interest in the country; but finding it gene- j 
 rally disaffected, all he could do, when the king ap- j 
 proached it, was to gather a troop of those godly j 
 people which the cavaliers drove out, and with them | 
 lie went into my lord of Essex his army ; which he, ! 
 being a single person, might the better do: Mr. 
 Hutchinson was not willing so soon to quit his house, 
 to which he was so lately come, if he could have 
 been suffered to live quietly in it, but his affec¬ 
 tions to the parliament being taken notice of, he , 
 became an object of envy to the other party. 
 
 Sir Thomas Hutchinson, a little before the 
 standard was set up, was come to Nottingham, 
 where his house was, to see his children and re¬ 
 fresh himself, when, hearing of the king’s inten¬ 
 tions to come to the town, he, some days before 
 his coming, went over to Owthorpe, his son’s 
 house, to remain there till he could fit himself to 
 return to the parliament. One day, as Mr. Hut¬ 
 chinson was at dinner, the mayor of Nottingham 
 sent him word that the high sheriff had broken ; 
 open the lock of the country’s ammunition, which 
 was left in his trust, and was about to take it 
 away. Mr. Hutchinson immediately went in all I 
 haste to prevent it, but before he came to the 
 town it was gone, and some of the king’s soldiers j 
 were already come to town, and were plundering ! 
 all the honest men of their arms. As one of them 
 had taken a musket, seeing Mr. Hutchinson go j 
 by, he wished it loaded for his sake, and said he 
 hoped the day would shortly come when all such 
 roundheads would be fair marks for them. This 
 $ name of roundhead coming so opportunely in, I 
 shall make a little digression to tell how it came 
 up. When puritanism grew into a faction, the 
 zealots distinguished themselves, both men and 
 Avomen, by several affectations of habit, looks, and 
 words, Avhich, had it been a real declension of 
 vanity, and embracing of sobriety in all those 
 things, had been most commendable in them; j 
 but their quick forsaking of those things, when ll 
 
Hi ~~ 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 38 
 
 they were where they Avould he, showed that 
 they either never took them up for conscience, 
 or were corrupted by their prosperity to take 
 up those vain things they durst not practise 
 under persecution. Among other affected habits, 
 few of the puritans, what degree soever they were 
 of, wore their hair long enough to cover their 
 ears, and the ministers and many others cut^ it 
 close round their heads, with so many little peaks, 
 as was something ridiculous to behold; whereupon 
 Cleaveland, -in his Hue and Cry after them, begins, 
 With hair in characters and luggs in text, &c. 
 
 From this custom of wearing their hair, that 
 name of roundhead became the scornful term 
 given to the whole parliament party ; whose army 
 indeed marched out so, but as if they had been 
 sent out only till their hair was grown : two or 
 three years after, any stranger that had seen 
 them, would have inquired the reason of that 
 name. It was very ill applied to Mr. Hutchinson, 
 who, having naturally a very fine thickset head of 
 hair, kept it clean and handsome, so that it was a 
 great ornament to him, although the godly of 
 those days, when he embraced their party, would 
 not allow him' to be religious because his hair was 
 not in their cut, nor his words in their phrase, 
 nor such little formalities altogether fitted to their 
 humour, who were, many of them, so weak as to 
 esteem rather for such insignificant circumstances, 
 than for solid wisdom, piety, and courage, which 
 brought real aid and honour to their party: but 
 as Mr. Hutchinson chose not them, but the God 
 they served, and the truth and righteousness they 
 defended, so did not their weaknesses, censures, 
 ingratitude, and discouraging behaviour, with 
 which he was abundantly exercised all his life, 
 make him forsake them in any thing wherein they 
 adhered to just and honourable principles or 
 practices, but when they apostatized from these, 
 none cast them off with greater indignation, how 
 shining soever the profession were that gilt, not 
 a temple of living grace, but a tomb, Avhich only 
 held the carcass of religion. Instead of digress- 
 ! ing, I shall ramble into an inextricable wilder¬ 
 ness, if I pui’sue this sad remembrance : to return 
 therefore to his actions at that time. 
 
 When he found the powder gone, and saw the 
 soldiers taking up quarters in the town, and 
 heard their threats and revilings, he went to 
 ! his father’s house in the town, where he had not 
 t been long but an uncivil fellow stepped into the 
 house, with a carbine in his hand: Mr. Hutchin- 
 j son asked what he would have ; the man replied, 
 ji he came to take possession of the house ; Mr. 
 
 I Hutchinson told him, he had the possession of it, 
 j and would know on what right it was demanded 
 1 j from him ; the man said, he came to quarter the 
 general there ; Mr. Hutchinson told him, except 
 j his father and mother, and their children, were 
 ! turned out of doors, there Avas no room: the 
 | quarter-master, upon this, growing insolent, Mr. 
 Hutchinson thrust him out of the house, and shut 
 the doors upon him. Immediately my lord of 
 Lindsey came himself, in a great chafe, and asked 
 ' who it Avas that denied him quarter ? Mr. Hut¬ 
 chinson told him, he that came to take it up for 
 him deserved the usage he had, for his uncivil 
 ' demeanour, and those who had quartered his 
 lordship there had much abused him, the house 
 being no ways fit to receive a person of his 
 
 quality, which, if he pleased to take a view of it, 
 he would soon perceive ; whereupon my lord, 
 having seen the rooms, A\ r as very angry they had 
 made no better provision for him, and would not 
 have lain in the house, but they told him the 
 toAvn was so full that it was impossible to get him 
 room any where else. Hereupon he told Mr. 
 Hutchinson, if they Avould only allow him one 
 room, he would have no more ; and when he came 
 upon terms of civility, Mr. Hutchinson was as 
 civil to him, and my lord only employed one room ; 
 staying there Avith all civility to those that Avere 
 in the house. As soon as my lord Avas gone, Mr. 
 Hutchinson Avas informed by a friend, that the 
 man he had turned out of doors Avas the quarter¬ 
 master-general, who, upon his complaint, had 
 procured a warrant to seize his person; where¬ 
 upon Mr. Hutchinson, with his brother, went im¬ 
 mediately home to his own house at Owthorpe. 
 About four or five days after, a troop of cavaliers, 
 under the command of Sr. Lewis Dives, came to 
 Stanton, near Owthorpe, and searched Mr. Need¬ 
 ham’s house, who Avas a noted puritan in those 
 days, and a colonel in the parliament’s service, 
 and governor of Leicester : they found not him, 
 for he hid himself in the gorse, and so escaped 
 them; his house being lightly plundered, they 
 Avent to Hickling and plundered another puritan 
 house there, and were coming to Owthorpe, of 
 which Mr. Hutchinson having notice, Avent aAvay 
 to Leicestershire; but they, though they had 
 orders to seize Mr. Hutchinson, came not at that 
 time because the night grew on; but some days 
 after he was gone another company came and 
 searched for him, and for arms and plate, of Avhich 
 finding none, they took nothing else. 
 
 Two days after Mr. Hutchinson Avas in Leices¬ 
 tershire he sent for his wife, Avho Avas then big 
 with child, to come thither to him, where she had 
 not been a day, but a letter Avas brought him from | 
 Nottingham, to give him notice that there A\ T as a j 
 warrant sent to the sheriff of Leicestershire to seize j 
 his person. Upon this he determined to go the i 
 next day into Northamptonshire, but at five of 
 the clock that evening the sound of their trum¬ 
 pets told him a troop Avas coming into the town ; 
 he stayed not to see them, but went out at the 
 other end as they came in, Avho, by a good provi¬ 
 dence for his Avife, (somewhat afflicted to be so 
 left alone in a strange place,) proved to be com¬ 
 manded by her own brother, Sir Allen Apsley, 
 who quartered in the next house to that AA'here 
 she Avas, till about two or three days before all 
 the king’s horse that were thereabouts marched 
 away, being commanded upon some service to go 
 before the rest. 
 
 Mr. Hutchinson in the mean time, Avas carried 
 by a servant that waited on him to the house of a 
 substantial honest yeoman, Avho was bailiff to the 
 lord of the town* of Kelmarsh, in Northampton¬ 
 shire ; this man and his Avife, being godly, gave 
 Mr. Hutchinson very kind entertainment, and 
 prevailed with him to be acquainted with their 
 master, Avho had just then made ready plate and 
 horses to go in to the king, that had now set up 
 his standard at Nottingham ; but Mr. Hutchinson 
 diverted him, and persuaded him and another 
 gentleman of quality, to car ry in those aids, they 
 
 * It is customary, in Nottinghamshire, to call every 
 village of any size a town. 
 
40 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 had provided for the king, to my lord general 
 Essex, who was then at Northampton, where Mr. 
 Hutchinson visited him, and could gladly at that 
 time have engaged with him, hut that he did not 
 then find a clear call from the Lord; and there¬ 
 fore, intelligence being brought of the king’s re¬ 
 move, he was now returning to his wife, when 
 unawares he came into a town where one of 
 prince Rupert’s troops was, which he narrowly 
 escaped, and returning to his former honest host> 
 sent a letter to his wife, to acquaint her what 
 hazard he was in, by attempting to come to her, 
 but that as soon as the horse were marched away, 
 he would be with her. This letter was inter¬ 
 cepted, at Prince Rupert’s quarters, and opened 
 and sent her. There was with prince Rupert, at 
 that time, one captain Welch, who, having used to 
 come to captain Apsley, and seen Mrs. Hutchin¬ 
 son with him, made a pretence of civility to visit 
 her, that day that all the prince’s horse marched 
 away. They marched by the door of the house 
 where she was, and all the household were gone 
 out to see them, and had left her alone in the 
 house, with Mr. George Hutchinson, who was in 
 her chamber, when captain Welch came in, and 
 she went down into the parlour to receive him. 
 He taking occasion to tell her of her husband’s 
 letter, by way of compliment, said it was a pity 
 she should have a husband so unworthy of her, 
 as to enter into any faction, which should make 
 him not dare to be seen with her; whereat she 
 being piqued, and thinking they were all marched 
 away, told him he was mistaken, she had not a 
 husband that would at any time hide himself from 
 him, or that durst not show his face where any 
 honest man durst appear ; and to confirm you, 
 said she, he shall now come to you ; with that she 
 called down her brother, who, upon a private hint, 
 i owned the name of husband she gave him, and 
 | received a compliment from Welch, that in any 
 | other place he had been obliged to make him 
 a prisoner, but here he was in sanctuary ; and so, 
 
 | after some little discourse, went away. When the 
 [ gentleman of the house and the rest of the family, 
 
 | that had been seeing the march, were returned, 
 j and while they sat laughing together, at those 
 j that went to see the prince, telling how some of 
 j the neighbouring ladies were gone along with him, 
 and Mrs. Hutchinson telling how she had abused 
 I the captain, with Mr. Hutchinson instead of her 
 I husband, the captain came back, bringing another 
 J gentleman with him, and told Mr. Hutchinson, 
 j that his horse having lost a shoe, he must be his 
 ; prisoner, till the smith released him; but they 
 j had not sat long, ere a boy came in with two 
 pistols, and whispered the captain, who desiring 
 Mr. Hutchinson and the gentleman of the house 
 [ to walk into the next room, seized Mr. George, in 
 j the name of Mr. John Hutchinson. It booted not 
 for them both to endeavour to undeceive him, 
 j by telling him Mr. John was still at North¬ 
 ampton, for he would not, at least would seem 
 ! not, to believe them, and carried him away, to be 
 revenged of Mrs. Hutchinson, at whom he was 
 vexed for having deluded him : so, full of wicked 
 ; joy, to have found an innocent gentleman, whom 
 lie knew the bloodhounds were after, he went and 
 | informed the prince, and made it of such moment, 
 
 ■ as they had taken a much more considerable 
 jj person. The prince had sent back a troop of 
 
 dragoons to guard him to them, which troop had 
 beset the house and town, before Welch came in 
 to them the second time, when, notwithstanding all 
 informations of his error, he earned away Mr. 
 Hutchinson, and put his sister into affright and 
 distemper with it; which when the women about 
 her saw, they railed at him for his treachery and 
 baseness, but to no purpose. As soon as he over¬ 
 took the body of horse, with his prisoner, there 
 was a shout from one end to the other of the 
 soldiers. Mr. Hutchinson, being brought to the 
 prince, told him he was the younger brother, and 
 not the person he sent for, which three or four of 
 the Birons, his cousin-germans, acknowledged to I 
 be so, yet Welch outswore them all, that it was 
 Mr. John Hutchinson. The lord viscount Gran- 
 dison, a cousin-german of Mrs. Hutchinson’s, was 
 then in the king’s army, to whom she immediately 
 dispatched a messenger, to entreat him to oblige 
 her, by the procurement of her brother’s liberty, ! 
 who, upon her imprudence, had been brought into 
 that trouble : my lord sent her word, that, for the 
 present, he could not obtain it, but lie would en¬ 
 deavour it afterwards, and in the mean time gave 
 her notice that it was not safe for her husband to 
 return, there being forty men left to lie close in 
 the country, and watch his coming to her. So 
 Mr. George Hutchinson was carried to Derby, 
 and there, with some difficulty, his liberty obtained, 
 by the interposition of my Lord Grandison and I 
 the Birons. They would have had him to have I 
 given them an engagement, that he would not take 
 arms with the parliament; but he refused, telling 
 them, he lived peaceably at home, and should 
 make no engagement to do any thing, but what j 
 his conscience led him to, that if they pleased, they I 
 might detain him, but it would be no advantage I 
 to them, nor loss to the other side ; upon which 
 considerations, they were persuaded to let him go. J 
 Immediately after his release, he went to London | 
 to his father, where his elder brother was before 
 him ; for as soon as he understood from his wife 
 what his brother suffered in his name, he took ! 
 post to London, to procure his release, and there ! 
 they both stayed till they received assurance, that 
 the king’s forces were quite drawn out of the j 
 country, and then they together returned to Lei¬ 
 cestershire, where Mrs. Hutchinson, within a few 
 days after her brother was taken, was brought to 
 bed of her eldest daughter, which, by reason of the 
 mother’s and the nurse’s griefs and frights, in 
 those troublesome times, was so weak a child that 
 it lived not four years, dying afterwards in Not¬ 
 tingham castle. When Mr. Hutchinson came to 
 his wife, he carried her and her children, and his 
 brother, back again to his house, about the time 
 that the battle was fought at Edge Hill. After I 
 this, the two brothers, going to Nottingham, met 
 there most of the godly people, who had been 
 driven away by the rudeness of the king’s army, \ 
 and plundered upon the account of godliness, who 
 were now returned to their families, and desirous 
 to live in peace with them, but having, by expe¬ 
 rience, found they could not do so, unless the 
 parliament interest were maintained, they were 
 consulting how to raise some recruits for the ! 
 Earl of Essex, to assist in which Mr. Hutchinson 1 
 had provided his plate and horses ready to send in. ! 
 
 About this time Sir John Gell, a Derbyshire 
 gentleman, who had been sheriff of the county, at 
 
 \ 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 41 
 
 i 
 
 that time when the illegal tax of ship-money was 
 exacted, and so violent in the prosecution of it, 
 that he starved Sir John Stanhope’s cattle in the 
 pound, and would not suffer any one to relieve 
 them there, because that worthy gentleman stood 
 out against that unjust payment, and who had by 
 many aggravating circumstances, not only con¬ 
 cerning his prosecution of Sir John Stanhope, but 
 others, so highly misdemeaned himself, that he 
 looked for punishment from the parliament, to 
 i prevent it, very early put himself, into their ser- 
 j vice, and after the king was gone out of these 
 | countries, prevented the cavalier gentry from seiz¬ 
 ing the town of Derby, and fortified it, and raised 
 a regiment of foot. These were good, stout, 
 fighting men, but the most licentious ungovernable 
 wretches, that belonged to the parliament. He 
 himself, no man knows for what reason he chose 
 that side ; for he had not understanding enough 
 to judge the equity of the cause, nor piety or holi¬ 
 ness, being a foul adulterer all that time he served 
 j the parliament, and so unjust, that, without any 
 remorse, he suffered his men indifferently to plun¬ 
 der both honest men and cavaliers; so revengeful, 
 that he pursued his malice to Sir John Stanhope, 
 
 I upon the forementioned account, with such bar¬ 
 barism after his death, that he, pretending to 
 search for arms and plate, came into the church 
 and defaced his monument that cost six hundred 
 pounds, breaking off the nose and other parts of 
 it; he digged up a garden of flowers, the only de¬ 
 light of his widow, upon the same pretence ; and 
 thus wooed that widow, who was by all the world 
 believed to be the most prudent and affectionate 
 of womankind, but, deluded by his hypocrisies, 
 consented to marry him, and found that was the 
 utmost point to which he could carry his revenge, 
 his future carriage making it apparent he sought 
 her for nothing else but to destroy the glory of 
 her husband and his house. This man kept the 
 journal makers* in pension, so that whatever was 
 done in the neighbouring counties, against the 
 enemy, was attributed to him; and thus he hath 
 indirectly purchased himself a name in story, 
 which he never merited ; he was a very bad man, 
 
 | to sum up all in that word, yet an instrument of 
 j service to the parliament in those parts. I thought 
 | it necessary to insert this little account of him here, 
 
 | because there will be often occasion to mention 
 him in my following discourse; and because, 
 although there never was any personal acquaint- 
 I ance between him and Mr. Hutchinson, yet that 
 [ j natural antipathy which is between good and evil, 
 
 * Sir John Gell succeeded so far as to get some of this 
 puffing intelligence introduced even into his Memorials 
 j by Wliitelock; who, p. 186, talks of an expedition where 
 he killed five of the enemy! He likewise gives him the 
 honour of taking Shelford Manor, at least two years before 
 it was really taken by Colonel Hutchinson. It is very 
 much to be wondered at, that Mrs. Hutchinson no where 
 speaks of his trial and condemnation for misprision of 
 treason, which Whitelock notes in the year 1650 during 
 the time of Mr. Hutchinson’s being in the second council 
 of state. He is said to have been convicted on the full 
 evidence of Bernard and Titus. Col. Andrews, who was 
 I condemned along with him, gave an attestation on his 
 i behalf a little before his death. Whitelock does not say 
 i what this treason consisted in, but he was pardoned by 
 - the third council, just before Cromwell’s usurpation: and 
 was among those members of parliament who opposed him 
 I boldly. 
 
 rendered him a very bad neighbour to Mr. Hutchin¬ 
 son’s garrison, and one that, under the name of a 
 friend and assistant, spoiled our country, as much 
 as our enemies. He indeed gave his men leave to 
 commit all insolencies, without any restraint, 
 whereas Mr. Hutchinson took up arms to defend 
 the country as much as was possible from being a 
 prey to rude soldiers, and did oftentimes preserve 
 it both from his and other rude troopsf, which 
 stirred up in him envy, hate, and ill-will against his 
 neighbour. He was not wise in ordering the scouts 
 and spies he kept out, and so had the worst intelli¬ 
 gence in the world. Mr. Hutchinson, on the other 
 side, employed ingenuous persons, and was better 
 informed of the true state of things, and so, often¬ 
 times communicated those informations, to the 
 chief commanders, which convinced the falsehood 
 of his ; and that was another cause of envy. 
 Some that knew him well, said he was not valiant, 
 though his men once held him up, among a stand 
 of pikes, while they obtained a glorious victory, 
 when the Earl of Northampton was slain ; certain 
 it is he was never by his good-will in a fight, but 
 either by chance or necessity ; and that which 
 made his courage the more questioned was, the 
 care he took, and the expense he was at, to get it 
 weekly mentioned in the diurnals, so that when 
 they had nothing else to renown him for, they once 
 put in that the troops of that valiant commander 
 Sir John Gell took a dragoon with a plush doublet. 
 Mr. Hutchinson, on the other side, that did well 
 for virtue’s sake, and not for the vainglory of it, 
 never would give anything to buy the flatteries of 
 those scribblers, and when one of them had once, 
 while he was in town, made mention of something 
 done at Nottingham, with falsehood, and given 
 Gell the glory of an action wherein he was not 
 concerned, Mr. Hutchinson rebuked him for it, 
 whereupon the man begged his pardon, and told 
 him he would write as much for him the next 
 week ; but Mr. Hutchinson told him he scorned 
 his mercenary pen, only warned him not to dare 
 to lie in any of his concernments, whereupon the 
 fellow was awed, and he had no more abuse of 
 that kind. 
 
 But to turn out of this digression into another, 
 not altogether impertinent to the story which I 
 would carry on. In Nottinghamshire, upon the 
 edge of Derbyshire, there dwelt a man, who was 
 of mean birth and low fortunes, yet had kept com¬ 
 pany with the underling gentry of his neighbour¬ 
 hood : this man had the most factious, ambitious, 
 vainglorious, envious, and malicious nature that 
 is imaginable ; but he was the greatest dissembler, 
 flatterer, traitor, and hypocrite that ever was, and 
 herein had a kind of wicked policy, knowing him¬ 
 self to be inferior to all gentlemen, he put on a 
 vizard of godliness and humility, and courted the 
 common people with all plausibility and flattery that 
 could be practised ; all this while he was addicted 
 to many lusts, especially to that of women, but 
 practised them so secretly, that they were not vul¬ 
 garly taken notice of, though God, to shame him, 
 gave him up to marry a wench out of one of the 
 alehouses he frequented ; but to keep up a fame of 
 godliness, he gave large contributions to puritan 
 
 f To the interposition of such men as Colonel Hutchinson 
 we must attribute the proportionably small quantity of 
 mischief that was suffered by this nation, in so long and 
 sharp a civil war as this was. 
 
42 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 preachers, who had the art to stop the people’s 
 mouths, from speaking ill of their benefactors. 
 By a thousand arts this fellow became popular, 
 and insinuated himself so, into all the gentlemen 
 that owned the parliament’s party, that till he was 
 discovered some years after, they believed him a 
 most true-hearted, faithful, vigilant, active man 
 for the godly interest; but he could never climb 
 higher than a presbyterian persecutor, and in the 
 end fell quite off to a declared cavalier. In Sir 
 George Booth’s business, thinking he could sway 
 the scales of a country, he raised a troop, and 
 brought them into Derby, and published a declar¬ 
 ation of his own for the king, then ran away to 
 Nottingham, and lost all his troop in the rout 
 there, and hid himself till the king * came in, when 
 he was rewarded for his revolt with an office, 
 which he enjoyed not many months, his wife and 
 he, and some of his children, dying altogether in 
 a few days of a fever little less than the plague. 
 This man, called Charles White, at the beginning 
 of the civil war got a troop of dragoons, who 
 armed and mounted themselves out of devotion 
 to the parliament’s cause, and being of his neigh- 
 ! bourliood, marched forth in his conduct, he having 
 procured a commission to be their captain, and 
 they, having stocks and families, were not willing 
 to march as far as the army, but joined themselves 
 to those who were already in arms at Derby. 
 
 After the battle at Edge-hill, Sir John Digby, 
 the high sheriff of Nottinghamshire, returned from 
 j the king, and had a design of securing the county 
 against the parliament, whereupon he sent out 
 summons to all the gentlemen resident in the 
 country to meet him at Newark. Mr. Hutchinson 
 was at the house of Mr. Francis Pierrepont, the 
 Earl of Kingston’s third son, when the letter was 
 delivered him, and another of the same to Mr. 
 Pierrepont, and Avhile they were reading them, 
 and considering what might be the meaning of 
 this summons, an honest man, of the sheriff’s 
 neighbourhood, came and gave them notice, that 
 the sheriff had some design in agitation, for he 
 had assembled and armed about fourscore of his 
 I neighbours, to go out with them to Newark, and, 
 as they heard, from thence to Southwell, and from 
 thence to Nottingham, through which town many 
 armed men marched day and night, to their great 
 terror. Mr. Hutchinson, upon this intimation, 
 went home, and instead of going to meet the 
 sheriff, sent an excuse, by an intelligent person, 
 well acquainted with all the country, who had 
 orders to find out their design, which he did so 
 well, that he assured Mr. Hutchinson if he and 
 some others had gone in, they would have been 
 made prisoners : for the sheriff came into Newark 
 with a troop of eighty men, with whom he was 
 gone to Southwell, and was to go the next day to 
 Nottingham, to secure those places for the king. 
 Mr. Hutchinson immediately went with his brother 
 and acquainted them at Nottingham with his intelli- 
 ence, which they had likewise received from other 
 hands. Although the town was generally more 
 malignants than well affected, yet they cared not 
 much to have cavalier soldiers quarter with them, 
 and therefore agreed to defend themselves against 
 any force which should come against them, and 
 being called hastily together, as the exigence re¬ 
 quired, about seven hundred listed themselves, and 
 
 * By the king is here meant Charles the Second., 
 
 chose Mr. George Hutchinson for their captain, 
 who having lived among them, was very much 
 loved and esteemed by them. The sheriff, hearing 
 this, came not to Nottingham, but those who were 
 now there thus became engaged to prosecute the 
 defence of themselves, the town, and country, as 
 far as they could. They were but few, and those 
 not very considerable, and some of them not very 
 hearty; but it pleased God here, as in other places, 
 to carry on his work by weak and unworthy in¬ 
 struments. There were seven aldermen in the 
 town, and of these only alderman James, then 
 mayor, owned the parliament. He was a very 
 honest, bold man, but had no more than a 
 burgher’s discretion ; he was yet very well assisted 
 by his wife, a woman of great zeal and courage, 
 and more understanding than women of her rank 
 usually have. All the devout people of the town 
 were very vigorous and ready to offer their lives 
 and families, but there was not the half of the 
 town that consisted of these ; the ordinary civil sort 
 of people coldly adhered to the better, but all the 
 debauched, and such as had lived upon the bishops’ 
 persecuting courts, and been the lacqueys of pro¬ 
 jectors and monopolisers, and the like, they were I 
 all bitterly malignant : yet God awed them, that 
 they could not at that time hinder his people, 
 whom he overruled some of their greatest enemies 
 to assist, such as were one Chadwick and Plumptre, 
 two who, at the first, put themselves most forward 
 into the business. Plumptre was a doctor of 
 physic, an inhabitant of Nottingham, who had 
 learning, natural parts, and understanding enough 
 to discern between natural civil righteousness and 
 injustice, but he was a horrible atheist, and had 
 such an intolerable pride, that he brooked no 
 superiors, and having some wit, took the boldness 
 to exercise it, in the abuse of all the gentlemen 
 wherever he came f. Sir Thomas Hutchinson 
 first brought him into credit and practice in the 
 country, it having pleased God to make him instru¬ 
 mental in the cure of Mr. George Hutchinson, 
 who had in vain tried the skill of the best doctors 
 in England, for an epileptic disease, under which 
 he laboured some years. Upon this occasion, Sir 
 Thomas, and both his sons, gave him much respect, 
 and this cure gave him reputation, and introduced i 
 him into practice, in all gentlemen’s houses in the j 
 country, which he soon lost again by his most 
 abusive tongue and other ill carriages, and was i 
 even got out of favour with Sir Thomas Hutchinson j 
 himself, for some abusive scoffs given out against his 
 lady : but Mr. Hutchinson and his brother, in pity ' 
 to him, and in remembrance of what God had done | 
 through him, still owned him, and protected him 
 a little against the bitter zealots, though it was | 
 impossible for his darkness and their light long to 
 continue mixed. This man had sense enough to 
 approve the parliament’s cause, in point of civil 
 right, and pride enough to desire to break the 
 bonds of slavery, whereby the king endeavoured j 
 to chain up a free people, and upon these scores 
 
 tIt is said of him, in Thoroton’s history of Notts, “he 
 was a person eminent in his profession, of great note for 
 wit and learning, as he had formerly been for poetry, when 
 he printed a book of epigrams : ” a species of composition 
 which the more it pleases the readeu, the less it renders 
 the author beloved. This inclination to sport with the 
 feelings of others was not at all likely to recommend him j j 
 to Mr. Hutchinson, nor make him a good associate in I 
 weighty and serious business. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 43 
 
 appearing high for the parliament’s interest, he was 
 admitted into the consultations of those who were 
 then putting the country into a posture of defence. 
 Chadwick was a fellow of a most pragmatical 
 temper, and, to say truth, had strangely wrought 
 himself into a station unfit for him. He was at 
 first a hoy that scraped trenchers in the house 
 of one of the poorest justices in the county, hut 
 yet such a one as had a great deal of formality 
 and understanding of the statute law, from whom 
 this boy picked such ends of law, that he became 
 first the justice’s, then a lawyer’s clerk ; then, I 
 know not how, got to be a parcel-j udge in Ireland, 
 and came over to his own country swelled with the 
 reputation of it, and set on foot a base, obsolete, 
 arbitrary court there, which the Conqueror of old 
 had given to one Peverel, his bastard, which 
 this man entitling my lord Goring unto, executed 
 the office under him, to the great abuse of the 
 country. At the beginning of the parliament, 
 they had prosecuted him for it, but that my Lord 
 Goring begged of Sir Thomas Hutchinson to 
 spare him, and promised to lay it down for ever ; 
 so from the beginning of the parliament he ex¬ 
 ecuted not that office, but, having an insinuating 
 wit and tongue, procured himself to be deputy- 
 recorder of Nottingham, my lord of Clare being 
 chief. When the king was in town a little 
 before, this man so insinuated into the court, that, 
 coming to kiss the king’s hand, the king told 
 him he was a very honest man ; yet by flatteries 
 and dissimulations he kept up his credit with the 
 godly, cutting his hair, and taking up a form of 
 godliness, the better to deceive. In some of the 
 corrupt times he had purchased the honour of a 
 barrister, though he had neither law nor learning, 
 but he had a voluble tongue, and was crafty; and 
 it is almost incredible that one of his mean educa¬ 
 tion and poverty should arrive to such things as 
 he reached : he was very poor, although he got 
 abundance of money by a thousand cheats, and 
 other base ways, wherein he exercised all his life, 
 for he was as great a prodigal in spending as 
 knave in getting, and, among other villanies which 
 he secretly practised, was a libidinous goat, for 
 which his wife, they say, paid him with making 
 him a cuckold ; yet were there not two persons 
 to be found that pretended more sanctity than he 
 and she, who had a tongue no less glavering and 
 false than his. This baseness he had, that all the 
 just reproaches in the world could not move him, 
 but he would fawn upon any man that told him 
 of his villanies to his face, even at the very time. 
 Never was a truer Judas since Iscariot’s time 
 than he, for he would kiss the man he had in his 
 heart to kill; he naturally delighted in mischief 
 and treachery, and was so exquisite a villain, that 
 he destroyed those designs he might have thriven 
 by, with overlaying them with fresh knaveries. I 
 have been a little tedious in these descriptions, 
 yet have spoken very little in comparison of what 
 the truth would bear ; indeed such assistants as 
 these were enough to disgrace the best cause by 
 their owning of it, but the truth of God, being 
 above the testimony of men, could neither receive 
 credit from the good, nor discredit from the worst 
 men: but they were not all such, who first offered 
 themselves to carry on the Lord’s work with him 
 of whom we chiefly treat. There was then dwell¬ 
 ing at Nottingham a third son of the Earl of 
 
 Kingston, a man of good natural parts, but not 
 of education according to his quality, who was in 
 the main well affected to honest men, and to 
 righteous liberty ; a man of a very excellent good 
 nature, and full of love to all men; but that his 
 goodness received a little allay by a vainglorious 
 pride, which could not well brook any other should 
 outstrip him in virtue and estimation *. Mr. 
 Francis Thornlxagh, the eldest son of Sir Francis 
 Tliornhagh, was a man of a most upright faithful 
 heart to God and God’s people, and to his country’s 
 true interest, comprehended in the parliament’s 
 cause ; a man of greater valour or more noble 
 daring fought not for them, nor indeed ever drew 
 sword in any cause ; he was of a most excellent 
 good nature to all men, and zealous for his friend; 
 he wanted counsel and deliberation, and was 
 sometimes too facile to flatterers, but had judg¬ 
 ment enough to discern his errors when they 
 were represented to him, and worth enough not 
 to persist in an injurious mistake because he had 
 once entertained it +. Mr Pigott was a very reli¬ 
 gious, serious, wise gentleman, true-hearted to 
 God and his country, of a generous and liberal 
 nature, and that thought nothing too dear to 
 expose, nor too difficult to undertake, for his 
 friend ; one that delighted not in the ruin of his 
 neighbours, but could endure it rather than the 
 destruction of religion, law, and liberty ; one that 
 wanted not courage, yet chose rather to venture 
 himself as a single person than a leader in arms, 
 and to serve his country in counsel than in action; 
 there was no man in his nature, and his vdiole 
 deportment, showed himself more a gentleman 
 than he £. There was one Mr. Widmerpoole, a 
 man of good extraction, but reduced to a small 
 fortune, had declined all the splendour of an old 
 house, and sunk into the way of the middle men 
 of the country; yet had a perfect honest heart to 
 God, his country, and his friend; he had a good 
 discretion, and though he were elder than all the 
 
 * Mr. Francis Pierrepont, who will frequently be men¬ 
 tioned again in the course of the story, when it will be 
 clearly seen that Mrs. Hutchinson here speaks with can¬ 
 dour, or rather favour of him, though he was her husband’s 
 opponent. 
 
 t Col. Thornhagh is often mentioned by other writers, 
 and always with praise in his military capacity, in which 
 only he was known to the public. Mrs. Hutchinson here 
 delineates with a masterly hand a frank, open, unsuspect¬ 
 ing, amiable soldier. The family of Col. Thornhagh con¬ 
 tinued to flourish in the county of Nottingham so late as 
 the year 1750, at which time one of them represented the 
 county; they are believed to be now extinct in the male 
 line, and their possessions to have centered in a female 
 who was the lady of Francis Ferrand Foljambe, Esq. 
 
 £ Mr. Pigott survived Col. Hutchinson about five years. 
 He was summoned to parliament by Cromwell, but it is 
 very uncertain whether he condescended to sit or no. 
 Thoroton, in his History of Notts, says of him, that “ he 
 was a person of great parts, natural and acquired: he was 
 sheriff of the county in 1669, and died presently after the 
 summer assizes ; at which time being in mourning for his 
 daughter Mary, wife of Robert, eldest son of Sir Francis 
 Burdett, of Formark, he gave his attendants black liveries 
 with silver trimmings, which served for his own funeral. 
 His sobriety, ingenuity, generosity, piety, and other virtues, 
 few of his rank will ever exceed, if any equal.” 
 
 It is thought necessary to take more particular notice of 
 what may appertain to Ireton, Col. Thornhagh, and Mr. 
 Pigott, because they are the three persons who enjoyed 
 the greatest share in the friendship and esteem of Col. 
 Hutchinson, and made him a due return. 
 
4 4 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 rest, yet was so humble, to be content to come in 
 the rear of them all, having, through the declining 
 of his family, the slenderness of his estate, and the 
 parsimony of his nature, less interest in the country*. 
 To yoke with him, there was a very honest man, 
 who could not be reckoned among the gentry, 
 though he were called by the name of Mr. Lomax; 
 he was in the strength and perfection of his age, 
 a stout and an understanding man, plain and 
 blunt, but withal godly, faithful to his country, 
 and honest to all men. There lived at Notting¬ 
 ham a man called Mr. Salusbury, who had very 
 good abilities with his pen, upon which he was 
 taken in to be their secretary, but he proved 
 ambitious and froward, and being poor, when he 
 was after made treasurer, fell into some tempta¬ 
 tion ; but he carried at first a fair colour of reli¬ 
 gion and honesty. These were they whom Mr. 
 Hutchinson was first mated with, whose characters 
 it was necessary thus far to hint at, for the better 
 carrying on of his story. 
 
 Sir John Digby, having notice that they had 
 prevented him, by getting arms in their hands 
 before, came not to Nottingham, where, now they 
 had taken up the sword, it was not safe to lay it 
 down again, and hold a naked throat to their 
 enemy’s whetted knives. Wherefore, upon the 
 parliament’s commission for settling the militia, 
 sometime before, there having been three colonels 
 nominated ; viz. Sir Francis Thornhagli, Sir 
 Francis Molineux, and Mr. Francis Pierrepont ; 
 they propounded to them to raise their regiments. 
 Sir Francis Molineux altogether declined, Sir 
 Francis Thornhagh appointed his son for his 
 lieutenant-colonel, and he began to raise a regi¬ 
 ment of horse, with whom many of the honest 
 men, that first listed themselves with Mr. George 
 Hutchinson, became troopers. Mr. John Hut¬ 
 chinson and his brother were persuaded to be 
 lieutenant-colonel and major, to Col. Pierrepont’s 
 regiment of foot ; and accordingly Mr. George 
 Hutchinson had immediately a very good standing 
 company of foot, formed out of those townsmen 
 who first came in to list under him. Mr. John 
 Hutchinson had a full company of very honest 
 godly men, who came for love of him and the 
 cause, out of the country. It was six weeks 
 before the colonel would be persuaded to put on a 
 sword, or to list any men, which at length he did, 
 of substantial honest townsmen, and Mr. Poulton, 
 a nephew of Sir Thomas Hutchinson, a stout 
 young gentleman, who had seen some service 
 abroad, was his captain-lieutenant: there were two 
 companies more raised, one under Capt. Lomax, 
 and another under one Capt. Scrimpshire. The 
 first thing these gentlemen did, was to call Capt. 
 White, with his dragoons, raised in Nottingham¬ 
 shire, home to the service of his own country, for 
 Sir John Gell, at Derby, had received from Hull 
 a regiment of grey coats, who were at first sent 
 down from London, for the assistance of that place, 
 when the king attempted it. They also sent to 
 the Earl of Essex, to desire that Capt. Ireton, 
 with a troop of horse, which he had carried out 
 of the country into his excellency’s army, might 
 be commanded back, for the present service of 
 
 * The pedigree of the family of Widmerpoole m Thoro- 
 ton, shows him to have been of very ancient and good 
 descent; his ancestor repi’esented the town of Nottingham 
 in the reign of Edward the Third. 
 
 his country, till it were put into a posture of 
 defence, which accordingly he was, and was major 
 of the horse regiment. They sent also to the par¬ 
 liament, and received from them a commission, 
 with instructions, whereby they were empowered 
 to levy forces, and to raise contributions for the 
 maintaining them, with all authority of seizing 
 delinquents, sequestering, and the like. The com¬ 
 mittee appointed were the parliament men that 
 served for the county, Mr. Francis Pierrepont, 
 Mr. John Hutchinson, Mr. Francis Thornhagh, 
 Mr. Gervas Pigott, Mr. Henry Ireton, Mr. George 
 Hutchinson, Mr. Joseph Widmerpoole, Mr. Gervas 
 Lomax, Dr. Plumptre, the mayor of Nottingham, 
 Mr. James Chadwick, and Mr. Thomas Salusbury. 
 Then did neighbouring counties every where asso¬ 
 ciate, for the mutual assistance of each other; and 
 the parliament commissioned major-generals, to 
 command in chief, and give out commissions, to 
 the several commanders of the regiments. Not¬ 
 tinghamshire was put into the association with 
 Leicestershire and other counties, whereof Lord 
 Grey of Grooby, eldest son to the Earl of Stam¬ 
 ford, was commander-in-chief, and from him the 
 gentlemen of Nottingham took their first com¬ 
 missions. 
 
 The high sheriff and the malignant gentry, find¬ 
 ing an opposition they expected not, writ a letter 
 to Mr. Francis Pierrepont, and Mr. John Hutchin¬ 
 son, excusing the sheriff’s force, that he brought 
 with him, and desiring a meeting with them, to 
 consult for the peace of the country, security of 
 their estates, and such-like fair pretences ; which 
 letter was civilly answered them again, and the 
 treaty kept on foot some fourteen days, by letters 
 signed by the Lord Chaworth, Sir Thomas William¬ 
 son, Mr. Sutton, Sir Gervas Eyre, Sir John Digby, 
 Sir Roger Cooper, Mr. Palmer, Mr. John Milling¬ 
 ton : at length a meeting was appointed, at a village 
 in the country, on the forest side, where Mr. Sut¬ 
 ton should have met Mr. John Hutchinson. Mr. 
 Hutchinson came to the place, but found not Mr. 
 Sutton there, only the Lord Chaworth came in 
 and called for sack, and treated Mr. Hutchinson 
 very kindly ; when Mr. Hutchinson, telling my 
 lord he was come according to appointment, to 
 conclude the treaty which had been between Not¬ 
 tingham and Newark, my lord told him, he knew 
 nothing of it; whereupon, Mr. Hutchinson, being 
 informed that some of my Lord Newcastle’s forces 
 were to be in that town that night, and that Mr. 
 Sutton was gone to meet them, and conduct them 
 into the country, returned to Nottingham, where 
 he received a kind of lame excuse from Mr. Sut¬ 
 ton for his disappointing of him, and for their 
 bringing in strange soldiers into Newark, which 
 they pretended was to save the town from the 
 plunder of some Lincolnshire forces : but Mr. 
 Hutchinson, seeing all their treaties were but a 
 snare for him, would no longer amuse himself 
 about them; but being certainly informed, that Hen¬ 
 derson who commanded the soldiers at Newark, 
 if he were not himself a papist, had many Irish 
 papists in his troops, he, with the rest of the gen¬ 
 tlemen, sent notice, to all the towns about Notting¬ 
 ham, desiring the well-affected to come in to their 
 assistance, which the ministers pressing them to, 
 upon Christmas day 1642, many came in to them, 
 and stayed with them, till they had put themselves 
 in some posture of defence. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 45 
 
 
 As soon as these strange soldiers were come 
 into Newark, they presently began to block up 
 and fortify that town, as, on the other side, they at 
 Nottingham began works about that town, but 
 neither of them being yet strong enough to assault 
 each other, contented themselves to stand upon 
 I; their own defence. The Earl of Chesterfield had 
 ! raised some horse for the king, and was in the 
 { vale of Belvoir with them, where he had plundered 
 some houses near Mr. Hutchinson’s ; whereupon 
 Mr. Hutchinson sent a troop of horse in the night, 
 for they were not strong enough to march in the 
 day, and fetch away his wife and children to Not- 
 ! tingham. 
 
 The preservation of this town was a special ser¬ 
 vice to the parliament, being a considerable pass 
 into the north, which, if the enemy had first 
 possessed themselves of, the parliament had been 
 j cut off of all intercourse between the north and 
 ! south, especially in the winter time, when the river 
 Trent is not fordable, and only to be passed over 
 by the bridges of Nottingham and Newark, and 
 up higher at a place called Wilden Ferry, where 
 the enemy also had a garrison*. The attempting 
 to preserve this place, in the midst of so many 
 ! potent enemies, was a work of no small difficulty, 
 i and nothing but an invincible courage, and a pas- 
 i sionate zeal for the interest of God and his country, 
 
 I could have engaged Mr. Hutchinson, who did not, 
 through youthful inconsideration and improvidence, 
 
 1 want a foresight of those dangers and travails he 
 j then undertook: he knew well enough that the 
 town was more than half disaffected to the parlia¬ 
 ment ; that had they been all otherwise, they were 
 j not half enough to defend it against any unequal 
 j force ; that they were far from the parliament and 
 their armies, and could not expect any timely 
 relief or assistance from them ; that he himself 
 was the forlorn hope of those who were engaged 
 with him, and had then the best stake among 
 them ; that the gentlemen who were on horse- 
 jj back, when they could no longer defend their 
 j country, might at least save their lives, by a 
 handsome retreat to the army; but he must 
 stand victorious, or fall, tying himself to an inde- 
 [) fensible town. Although his colonel might seem 
 
 I to be in the same hazard, yet he was wise enough 
 to content himself with the name, and leave Mr. 
 Hutchinson to act all things, the glory of which, 
 if they succeeded, he hoped to assume ; if they 
 
 I failed, he thought he had a retreat ; but Mr. Hut¬ 
 chinson, though he knew all this, yet was he so 
 well persuaded in his conscience, of the cause, and 
 of God’s calling him to undertake the defence of 
 it, that he cast by all other considerations, and 
 1 cheerfully resigned up his life, and all other par¬ 
 ticular interests, to God’s dispose, though in all 
 human probability, he was more like to lose than 
 to save them. 
 
 He and his brother were so suddenly called in 
 to this work, that they had not time beforehand to 
 consult their father ; but they sent to him to buy 
 their armour and useful swords, which he did, 
 
 * In the place of Wilden Ferry has been substituted in 
 modern days a very beautiful bridge, called Cavendish 
 Bridge, with a good and firm road of considerable length 
 at each end to approach it: it is about midway on the high 
 | road between Loughborough and Derby. There is near to 
 J it a place called Sawley Ferry, little used, and hardly at all 
 practicable in winter. 
 
 giving them no discouragement, but promoting all 
 their desires to the parliament very effectually f. 
 
 By reason of the coldness of the colonel, the 
 affairs of the war at Nottingham went more tardily 
 on than else they would have done ; but the gen¬ 
 tlemen there, thinking it would be easier to pre¬ 
 vent Newark from being made a fortified garrison, 
 than to take it when it was so, sent over to Lin¬ 
 coln and Derby, to propound the business to them. 
 At length it was, about Candlemas, agreed and ap¬ 
 pointed that the forces of Nottingham and Derby 
 should come on their side of the town, and those 
 of Lincoln on the other. All the disaffected gen¬ 
 try of both those countries, were, at that time, 
 gone into Newark, and one Ballard, a gentleman, 
 who, decayed in his family, and owing his educa¬ 
 tion to many of them, had been bred up in the 
 wars abroad, was commander-in-chief for the par¬ 
 liament in Lincolnshire. Much ado had the gen¬ 
 tlemen of that county to engage him in the design 
 against Newark ; but when lie could not divert 
 them, he was resolved to cast them away, rather 
 than ruin his old benefactors. He had appointed 
 the forces of Nottingham and Derby to come to a 
 rendezvous within a mile of Newark upon Saturday, 
 upon which day, all the persuasions the Lincoln¬ 
 shire gentlemen could use, could not prevail with 
 him to march out, according to appointment; 
 which those at Newark had notice of, and had 
 prepared an ambuscade to have cut off all those 
 forces if they had then come to the place ; but by 
 providence of an extraordinary stormy season, 
 they marched not till the next day, and so were 
 preserved from that danger, which no doubt was 
 treacherously contrived. As soon as they came, 
 who were about a thousand horse, foot, and dra¬ 
 goons, the Lincolnshire commanders informed ours 
 of the sloth and untoward carriage of Ballard, 
 and told them how, that day, he had played his 
 ordnance, at a mile’s distance from the town, and 
 how, when the Newark horse came out to face 
 them, upon the Beacon Hill, he would not suffer 
 a man of the Lincolnshire troops to fall upon them, 
 though the Lincoln horse were many more in 
 number than they, and in all probability might 
 have beaten them. The next day, notwithstand¬ 
 ing Mr. Hutchinson went to him, to give him an 
 account of the forces they had brought, and to 
 receive orders, he could have none, but a careless 
 answer to stand at such a side of the town and 
 fall on as they saw occasion. Accordingly they 
 did, and beat the enemy from their works, with 
 the loss of only four or five men, and entrenched 
 themselves ; when, the night coming on upon 
 them, they provided straw to have lodged in their 
 trenches, all the night. On the other side of the 
 town, Captain King of Lincolnshire had taken a 
 street, cut up a chain, and placed aj drake in a 
 house ; whereupon the Newark gentlemen were 
 almost resolved to yield up the town, and some of 
 them began to fly out of it, but Ballard would not 
 suffer the horse to pursue them, only one captain 
 
 t The reader is desired to bear this in mind, as it tends 
 much to invalidate the credibility of an assertion made by 
 the stepmother of these gentlemen, which will be noticed 
 in its proper place. It is said, in a note by Julius Hut¬ 
 chinson, Esq., that Sir Thomas Hutchinson bought his two 
 sons armour, though he knew not of their accepting com¬ 
 missions against the king. What was the armour for ? 
 Was it to serve the king against the parliament ? 
 
 t Drake, a piece of cannon so called. 
 
46 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 w ent out without his leave and took fifty horses, 
 and turned hack Mr. Sutton and many others 
 that were flying out of the town. At length, when 
 he could no other way preserve his old patrons, but 
 by betraying his friends, he ordered Captain King 
 to retreat ; whereupon the whole force of Newark 
 fell upon the forces of Nottingham and Derby, in 
 their trenches, where they fought very resolutely, 
 till a Lincolnshire trooper came and bade them 
 fly for their lives, for else they were all lost men. 
 At this two hundred Lincolnshire men, whom 
 Ballard, with much entreaty, had sent to relieve 
 them, first ran away, and then Sir John Gell’s 
 grey coats made their retreat after them ; Major 
 Hutchinson and Capt. White, all this while, 
 kept their trenches, and commanded their Not¬ 
 tingham men not to stir, who accordingly shot 
 there, till all their powder was spent. The lieu¬ 
 tenant-colonel in vain importuned Ballard to send 
 them ammunition and relief, but could obtain 
 neither, and so they were forced, unwillingly, to 
 retreat, which they did in so good order, the men 
 first, and then their captains, that they lost not a man 
 in coming off. The town was sallying upon them, 
 but they discharged a drake and beat them back. 
 The next day all the captains importuned Ballard 
 they might fall on again, but he would neither con¬ 
 sent nor give any reason of his denial, so that the 
 Nottingham forces returned with great dissatis¬ 
 faction, though Ballard, to stop their mouths, gave 
 them two pieces of ordnance. 
 
 It being necessary to carry on the main story, 
 for the better understanding the motion of those 
 lesser wheels that moved within the great orb, I 
 shall but name in what posture things were abroad 
 in the kingdom, while these affairs I relate were 
 transacted at Nottingham, After the retreat from 
 Brainford fight, a treaty was ineffectually carried 
 on between the king and parliament from the 31st 
 of January 1642, to the 17th of April 1643, after 
 which my Lord of Essex marched to Reading, 
 where the king had a garrison, and besieged it. 
 The king’s horse came to relieve it, and had an 
 encounter with my lord’s army, wherein many 
 gentlemen of quality fell on the king’s side, the 
 king himself being in a place where he saw them. 
 In a few days after, Reading was yielded upon com¬ 
 position to the Earl of Essex, whose soldiers having 
 been promised their pay and a gratuity to spare 
 the plunder of the town, fell into a mutiny upon 
 the failing of the performance, and many of them 
 disbanded. Among those who remained there 
 was. a great mortality, occasioned by the infected 
 air in the town of Reading ; insomuch that my 
 lord was forced to return and quarter his sick 
 and weak army about Kingston and those towns 
 near London. And now were all the countries in 
 England no longer idle spectators, but several 
 stages, whereon the tragedy of the civil war was 
 acted, except the eastern association, where Mr. 
 Oliver Cromwell, by his diligence, prevented the 
 designs of the royal party, which were so success¬ 
 ful the first year in all other places, that the par¬ 
 liament’s condition appeared so desperate, as many 
 of their members, of both houses, ran away to Ox¬ 
 ford to the king, and others sat among them con¬ 
 spiring against them. One plot, conducted by 
 Mr. Waller, and carried on among many disaf¬ 
 fected persons, in the city, was near taking effect, 
 to the utter subversion of the parliament and 
 
 people ; but that God, by his providence, brought 
 it timely to light, and the authors were condemn¬ 
 ed, and some of them executed ; but Waller, for 
 being more a knave then the rest, and ’peaching 
 his ’complices, was permitted to buy his life for ten 
 thousand pounds. This summer all the west was 
 reduced by the king, the Earl of Stamford yield¬ 
 ing up Exeter, and Col. Fiennes Bristol. Sir 
 William Waller had lost all his army, which had 
 been victorious in many encounters. The king 
 was master of all or most part of Wales, and the 
 parliament had no army left in the field, so that 
 had he taken the opportunity to have gone imme¬ 
 diately to London, that summer, he had accom¬ 
 plished his design : but being denied the town of 
 Gloucester, and taking it in disdain, that that town, 
 in the heart of the land, should make a resistance 
 when the greater cities were yielded to him, he 
 stopped his course to take in that place, where he 
 stayed to turn the tide of his good fortune, as his 
 general my Lord of Newcastle did, at the siege of 
 Hull*. My Lord Newcastle was general of the 
 north, and master of all the strong places, to the 
 very borders of Scotland, and formidable to all 
 the neighbouring counties. Only the Lord Fairfax, 
 with his son Sir Thomas, headed all the religious, 
 honest Englishmen, they could raise, in those parts, 
 and with a far inferior force, kept him in play, and 
 in several skirmishes came off conquerors. But 
 as the fortune of the parliament declined in other 
 places, so those who had not principles strong 
 enough to hold them fast to a just, though fall¬ 
 ing cause, sought early to secure their lives by 
 treasons, which destroyed them. The Earl of 
 Newcastle’s army was judged to be about eight 
 thousand, horse and foot, my Lord Fairfax had 
 not above two thousand one hundred foot, and 
 seven troops of horse. After this there was a 
 great accession of strength to my Lord Newcas- 
 tle, by the coming, first of the Lord Goring, with 
 many old commanders ; then of General King, 
 with six thousand arms, from beyond the seas ; 
 then of the queen herself, who, in February 1642, 
 landed near Sunderland, coming out of Holland, 
 with large provisions of arms, ammunition, and 
 commanders of note, with which she was convoy¬ 
 ed, by the Earl of Newcastle, to York, and thither 
 came to her the Earl of Montrose, out of Scotland, 
 with a hundred and twenty horse : then Sir Hugh 
 Cholmly, governor of Scarborough, revolted from 
 the parliament, whereof he was a member, and 
 came to the queen, with three hundred men. 
 Browne Bushell also, who was left in charge with 
 
 * The impolicy of this measure is more fully noticed and 
 explained, and the cause of it set down, by Sir Philip War¬ 
 wick, in his Memoirs, p. 260. “ One or the like council 
 in both quarters, north and west, blasted the prosperity in 
 each place, for the king pitcht upon that fatal resolution, 
 recommended to him by Lord Culpeper, of besieging Glo- 
 cester, thinking it a good policy not to leave a strong town 
 behind him; but the counsel proved fatal, for had the king 
 at that time resolved in himself to have struck at the 
 proud head of London, and had had authority enough at 
 that time to have required the Earl of Newcastle to have 
 joined with him ; humanly speaking, he had raised such 
 confusion among the two houses and the Londoners, that 
 they had either sent him his own terms, or if they had 
 fought him most probably he had been victorious. But 
 the king fixes on Glocester and the Earl of Newcastle on 
 Hull, upon the advice of his Lieut. General King, who 
 was suspected.” 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 47 
 
 ---f 
 
 the town, yielded it up. Then had the queen’s 
 . practices wrought so upon the two Hothams, that 
 their treason was not altogether undiscerned ; 
 but my lord Fairfax, having only strong presump¬ 
 tions, and no power to secure them, while they 
 j had the strong town of Hull in their hands, it 
 was all he could do to be vigilant and silent, till 
 God should give opportunity to secure that great 
 I danger. My Lord of Newcastle had given the 
 , papists in the north commissions to arm in the 
 5 king’s defence*, and now the queen was prepar- 
 ] ing to march up, with the assistance she had got¬ 
 ten, to the king. Those countries through which 
 she was to pass, could not but be sensible of their 
 i danger, especially the gentlemen at Nottingham, 
 who were but a few young men, environed with 
 garrisons of the enemy, and scarcely firm among 
 . themselves, and hopeless of relief from above, 
 where the parliament, struggling for life, had not 
 leisure to bind up a cut finger. But God was 
 with them in these difficulties, and gave an unex¬ 
 pected issue. 
 
 The Earl of Kingston a few montns stood neuter, 
 and would not declare himself of either party, and 
 • being a man of great wealth and dependencies, 
 many people hung in suspense by his example ; 
 whereupon the gentlemen of Nottingham often 
 spoke to his son to persuade his father to declare 
 himself; but he told them he knew his father’s 
 affections were firm to the parliament, that he had 
 encouraged him to join with them, and promised 
 ' him money to carry it on, and such-like things, 
 which he continually assured them, till the colonel’s 
 i cold behaviour, and some other passages, made 
 j them at length, those at least who were firm to 
 I the cause, jealous both of the father and the son. 
 Hereupon when the danger grew more imminent, 
 and my lord lay out a brave prey to the enemy, 
 they sent captain Lomax, one of the committee, to 
 understand his affections from himself, and to press 
 him to declare for the parliament, in that so need- 
 j ful season. My lord professing himself to him 
 rather desirous of peace, and fully resolved not to 
 act on either side, made a serious imprecation on 
 himself in these words : “ W hen,” said he, “ I 
 take arms with the king against the parliament, 
 
 , or with the parliament against the king, let a 
 cannon bullet divide me between them ; ” which 
 God was pleased to bring to pass a few months 
 after : for he, going into Gainsborough, and there 
 taking up arms for the king, was surprised by my 
 lord Willoughby, and, after a handsome defence 
 of himself, yielded, and was put prisoner into a 
 pinnace, and sent down the river to Hull, when 
 my lord Newcastle’s army marching along the 
 shore, shot at the pinnace, and being in danger, 
 the earl of Kingston went up upon the decks to 
 , show himself, and to prevail with them to forbear 
 shooting f, but as soon as he appeared, a cannon 
 
 * The king pretended never to do this himself: but the 
 Earl of Newcastle did it, as most people would in his place, 
 and avowed it as became him. Sir Philip Warwick recites 
 a witticism of his on the occasion of his going to see him 
 at the siege of Hull, where his men being very badly en- 
 . trenched, he said to Sir Philip, who remarked it, “ You 
 hear us often called the Popish Army, but you see we 
 trust not in our good works." m 
 
 , t This is a most singular story, and no doubt peculiarly 
 gratifying to a fatalist to recite; it is however assuredly 
 true, being mentioned by several historians, with only the 
 
 bullet flew from the king’s army and divided him I 
 in the middle, being then in the parliament’s pin¬ 
 nace, who perished, according to his own unhappy 
 imprecation. His declaring himself for the king, 
 as it enforced the royal, so it weakened the other 
 party. 
 
 Sir Richard Biron was come to be governor of 
 Newark. A house of my lord Chaworth’s in the 
 vale was fortified, and some horse put into it, and 
 another house of the Earl of Chesterfield’s, both 
 of them within a few miles of Nottingham J. 
 Ashby-de-la-Zouch, within eight miles of Notting¬ 
 ham, on the other side, was kept by Mr. Hastings. 
 On the forest side of the country, the Earl of New¬ 
 castle’s house had a garrison in it, and another 
 castle of his, within a mile, was garrisoned. Sir 
 Roger Cooper’s house at Thurgaton, was also kept ; 
 so that Nottingham, thus beleaguered with enemies, 
 seemed very unlikely to be able either to resist 
 the enemy, or support itself §. Therefore the 
 gentlemen, upon the news of my Lord Newcastle’s 
 intended approach that way, sent up Mr. John | 
 Hutchinson to acquaint the parliament with their 
 condition, who so negotiated their business that 
 he procured an order for Col. Cromwell, Col. 
 Hubbard, my Lord Grey, and Sir John Gell, to 
 unite their forces, and rendezvous at Nottingham, 
 to prevent the queen from joining with the king, 
 and to guard those parts against the cavaliers. 
 Accordingly in the Whitsun holidays, 1C43, they 
 all came, and the younger Hotham also brought 
 some more rude troops out of Yorkshire, and 
 joined himself to them. The forces now united 
 at Nottingham were about five or six thousand, 
 my lord Grey being their commander-in-chief. 
 Upon the urgency of the gentlemen at Notting¬ 
 ham, he drew them out against Wiverton-house in 
 the vale, but upon a groundless apprehension 
 quitted it, when they might in all probability have 
 taken it, and retreated to Nottingham, where, two 
 or three days after, the enemy’s horse faced them, 
 but they would not be prevailed with to go out, 
 though they were not inferior to them. Young 
 Hotham, at that time, carried on a private treaty 
 with the queen, and every day received and sent 
 trumpets, of which he would give no account. 
 Then was Nottingham more sadly distrest by their 
 friends than by their enemies ; for Hotham’s and 
 Gell’s men not only lay upon free quarter, as all 
 the rest did, but made such havoc and plunder of 
 friend and foe, that it was a sad thing for any one 
 that had a generous heart to behold it. When 
 the committee offered Hotham to assign him 
 quarters for his men, because they were better 
 acquainted with the country, he would tell them 
 he was no stranger in any English ground. He 
 had a great deal of wicked wit, and would make 
 sport with the miseries of the poor country, 
 and, having treason in his heart, licensed his 
 soldiers, which were the scum of mankind, to all I 
 villanies in the country that might make their 
 party odious. Mr. Hutchinson was much vexed 
 to see the country wasted, and that little part of 
 it which they could only hope to have contribution 
 
 difference of his being said to be under, instead of on, tho 
 deck ; the latter of which is far the most probable. 
 
 t Wiverton-house and Shelford manor. 
 
 § In a letter to the king, the queen writes from Newark , 
 that “ all the force the parliament had in those parts was 
 only one thousand men in Nottingham.” | 
 
48 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 from, eaten up by a company of men who, instead 
 of relieving them, devoured them ; and Hotham’s 
 soldiers, having taken away goods from some 
 honest men, he went to him to desire restitution 
 of them, and that he would restrain his soldiers 
 from plunder; whereupon Hotham replied, “he 
 fought for liberty and expected it in all things.” 
 Replies followed, and they grew to high language ; 
 Hotham bidding him, if he found himself grieved, 
 to complain to the parliament. Mr. Hutchinson 
 was passionately concerned, and this being in the 
 open field, Col. Cromwell, who laid likewise had great 
 provocations from him, began to show himself 
 affected with the country’s injuries, and the idle 
 waste of such a considerable force, through the 
 inexperience of the chief commander, and the 
 disobedience and irregularities of the others; so 
 they, at that time, being equally zealous for the 
 public service, advised together to seek a remedy, 
 and dispatched away a post to London, who had no 
 greater joy in the world than such employments 
 as tended to the displacing of great persons, 
 whether they deserved it or not; him they sent 
 away immediately from the place to inform the 
 parliament of Hotham’s carriages, and the strong 
 presumptions they had of his treachery, and the 
 ill management of their forces. This they two 
 did, without the privity of any of the other gentle¬ 
 men or commanders, some of which were little 
 less suspected themselves, and others, as my Lord 
 Grey, through credulous good nature, too great a 
 favourer of Hotham. The messenger was very 
 diligent in his charge, and returned as soon as it 
 was possible with a commitment of Hotham, who 
 accordingly was then made prisoner in Notting¬ 
 ham-castle, and Sir John Meldrum was sent down 
 to be commander-in-chief of all those united 
 forces. When they marched away, a troop of 
 my Lord Grey’s having the charge of guarding 
 Hotham, towards London, suffered him to escape, 
 and thereby put the town of Hull into a great 
 hazard ; but that the father and son were there 
 unexpectedly surprised, sent up prisoners to 
 London, and after some time executed. Those 
 who knew the opinion Cromwell afterwards had of 
 Mr. Hutchinson, believed he registered this busi¬ 
 ness in his mind as long as he lived, and made it 
 his care to prevent him from being in any power or 
 capacity to pursue him to the same punishment, 
 when he deserved it ; but from that time, growing 
 into more intimate acquaintance with him, he 
 always used to profess the most hearty affections 
 to him, and the greatest delight in his plainness 
 and open-heartedness that was imaginable * 
 
 * Those who consider and represent Cromwell as a pro¬ 
 digy not only of treachery, design, ambition and artifice, 
 but likewise of sagacity and foreknowledge, will deem this 
 a proof of his having thus early conceived his scheme of 
 aggrandisement; but to those who are better satisfied with 
 the probable than the marvellous, it will seem to prove no 
 such thing: they must well ‘know that if he had so soon 
 any great views, they must have been very distant and in¬ 
 distinct ; they will find here only the first of a long series 
 of instances, wherein will be seen the quick and clear 
 discernment, the strong and well-poised judgment, the 
 promptitude and firmness of decision, which enabled him 
 to seize and convert to his advantage every opportunity 
 that presented itself, and even the actions, thoughts, and 
 inclinations, of other men; and they will see united to 
 these such a command over his own thoughts and passions 
 as permitted exactly so much, and no more of them than 
 
 As soon as Sir John Meldrum came down to 
 his charge at N ottingham, the queen’s forces 
 came and faced the town, whereupon the can¬ 
 non discharging upon them, the Duke of Ven- 
 dome’s son and some few others were slain. The 
 parliament horse drew out of Nottingham to re¬ 
 ceive the queen’s, but they came not on, after this 
 execution of the cannon, for in the mean time the 
 queen was passing by, and although the parlia¬ 
 ment horse pursued them, yet would not they 
 engage, for it was not their business; so when 
 they saw they had lost their design, the horse 
 returned again to Nottingham, where the foot had 
 stayed all the while they were out. When the 
 Earl of Kingston declared himself for the king he 
 raised what forces he could and went into Gains¬ 
 borough, a town in Lincolnshire, situate upon the 
 river of Trent. There, before he was fortified, my 
 Lord Willoughby, of Parham, surprised the town 
 and all his soldiers, who disputed it as long as they 
 could, but being conquered, were forced to yield, 
 and the earl himself retreated into the strongest 
 house, which he kept till it was all on flame round 
 him, and then giving himself up only to my Lord 
 Willoughby he was immediately sent prisoner to 
 Hull, and shot according to his own imprecation. 
 Immediately part of my Lord Newcastle’s army, 
 with all that Newark could make, besieged my 
 Lord Willoughby in Gainsborough, and General 
 Essex sent a command to Sir John Meldrum to 
 draw all the horse and foot he could out of Not¬ 
 tingham, to relieve my lord, leaving only a gar¬ 
 rison in the castle of Nottingham. Sir John 
 Meldrum called the committee of Nottingham 
 together, to consult what was to be done for the 
 settlement of the place, which upon deliberation 
 he had judged not fit to leave in the hands it was, 
 norinCol.Pierrepont’s,who,with some appearance, 
 lay under suspicion at that time ; and therefore 
 conceiving Mr. Hutchinson the most able to 
 manage, and the most responsible for it, both Sir 
 John and the whole committee ordered him to 
 take the castle into his charge, which, though there 
 were many causes why he should decline, yet be¬ 
 lieving that God hereby called him to the defence 
 of his country, and would protect him in all the 
 dangers and difficulties he led him into, he accepted 
 it, and the ‘29th June, 1643, received an order 
 for that government from Sir John Meldrum and 
 the whole committee ; whereunto Col. Pierrepont 
 subscribed, though with a secret discontent in his 
 heart, not for any ill-opinion or ill affection he 
 had to Mr. Hutchinson’s person, but for that he 
 
 was convenient, to appear; these qualities, though less 
 astonishing than the prescience and almost the power of 
 creating events, which is attributed to him, would and did 
 equally well answer the purpose of his progression ; which 
 he effected in such a manner as to fill with the greatest 
 propriety all the intermediate situations through which 
 he passed, to take as it were a firm footing at each grada¬ 
 tion, and to arrive at the pinnacle of power without hav¬ 
 ing once run any considerable risk of an overthrow in his 
 career. Such rational observers will likewise see here, 
 what will in the sequel still more strikingly appear, that if 
 he must be called a traitor, he was not of that paltry 
 treachery which sacrifices a man’s party to self; he was 
 steadily bent on procuring the triumph of his own party 
 over their opponents, but too covetous of commanding his 
 party himself. It may be thought there wanted but little, 
 perhaps only the survivance of Ireton, to have made 
 Cromwell intrinsically as well as splendidly great. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 •esented it as a great affront that himself was 
 massed by. It is true that this discontent produced 
 ome envious and malicious practices secretly in 
 rim against Mr. Hutchinson, who in the end 
 overcame him with so many good offices in re- 
 prital of his bad ones, that he lived and died full 
 >f love and acknowledgment of kindness to him. 
 
 The castle was built upon a rock, and nature had 
 nade it capable of very strong fortification, but the 
 buildings were very ruinous and unhabitable, nei- 
 ;her affording room to lodge soldiers nor provisions. 
 The castle stands at one end of the town, upon 
 such an eminence as commands the chief streets 
 of the town. There had been enlargements made 
 to this castle after the first building of it. There 
 was a strong tower which they called the old 
 'tower, built upon the top of all the rock, and this 
 was that place .where Queen Isabell, the mother of 
 King Edward the Third, was surprised with her 
 paramour Mortimer, who by secret windings and 
 hollows in the rock came up into her chamber 
 from the meadows lying low under it, through 
 which there ran a little rivulet, called the Line, 
 almost under the castle rock. At the entrance of 
 this rock there was a spring, which was called 
 Mortimer’s Well, and the cavern Mortimer’s Hole: 
 the ascent to the top is very high, and not without 
 some wonder. At the top of all the rock there is a 
 spring of water ; in the midway to the top of this 
 tower there is a little piece of the rock on which a 
 dove-cot had been built, but the governor took 
 down the roof of it, and made it a platform for two 
 or three pieces of ordnance, which commanded 
 some streets and all the meadows better than the 
 higher tower ; under that tower, which was the old 
 castle, there was a larger castle, where there had 
 been several towers and many noble rooms, but the 
 most of them were down ; the yard of that was 
 pretty large, and without the gate there was a 
 1 very large yard that had been walled, but the 
 walls were all down, only it was situated upon an 
 ascent of the rock, and so stood a pretty height 
 above the streets ; and there were the ruins of an 
 old pair of gates, with turrets on each side. 
 
 Before the castle the town was on one side of a 
 close, which commanded the fields approaching 
 the town ; which close the governor afterwards 
 made a platform ; behind it was a place called 
 the park, that belonged to the castle, but then had 
 neither deer nor trees in it, except one, growing 
 under the castle, which was almost a prodigy, for 
 from the root to the top, there was not one straight 
 j twig or branch of it ; some said it was planted by 
 King Richard the Third, and resembled him that 
 j set it. On the other side the castle, was the little 
 river of Line, and beyond that, large flat meadows, 
 bounded by the river of Trent. In the whole 
 rock there were many large caverns, where a 
 great magazine and many hundred soldiers might 
 have been disposed, if they had been cleansed and 
 prepared for it, and might have been kept secure 
 from any danger of firing the magazines by any 
 mortar-pieces shot against the castle. In one of 
 these places, it is reported, that one David, a 
 Scotch king, was kept in cruel durance, and with 
 his nails had scratched on the wall the story of 
 Christ and his twelve apostles. The castle was 
 J not flanked, and there were no works about it, 
 i when Mr. Hutchinson undertook it, but only a 
 little breastwork, before the outmost gate. It 
 
 was as ill provided, as fortified, there being but 
 ten barrels of powder, eleven hundred and fifty 
 pounds of butter, and as much cheese, eleven 
 quarters of bread-corn, seven beeves, two hundred 
 and fourteen flitches of bacon, five hundred and 
 sixty fishes, and fifteen hogsheads of beer. As 
 soon as the governor received his charge, he made 
 proclamation in the town, that whatsoever honest 
 persons desired to secure themselves or their goods 
 in the castle should have reception there if they 
 would repair their quarters, which divers well- 
 affected men accepting, it was presently made cap¬ 
 able of receiving four hundred men commodiously. 
 
 In the beginning of July 1643, Sir John Mel- 
 drum, with all the force that quartered in Notting¬ 
 ham, marched forth to the relief of Gainsborough, 
 leaving the town to be guarded by few more than the 
 very townsmen. There had been large works made 
 about it, which would have required at least three 
 thousand men to man them and defend them well, and 
 upon these works there were about fourteen guns, 
 which the governor, when the forces were marching 
 away, before they went, drew up to the castle ; where¬ 
 upon the townsmen, especially those that were ill- 
 affected to the parliament, made a great mutiny, 
 threatening they would pull the castle down, but 
 they would have their ordnance again upon their 
 works, and wishing it on fire and not one stone 
 upon another. Hereupon the governor sent Aider- 
 man Drury, with fourteen more, that were heads 
 of this mutiny, prisoners to Derby, whither Major 
 Ireton convoyed them with his troop. The reasons 
 which made the governor carry the ordnance 
 from the town-works up into the castle were, 1st, 
 That the town being so ill-affected, the ordnance 
 remaining in it would but be an invitation to the 
 enemy to come to take them away, and a booty for 
 them if they should. 2dly, He had often visited 
 the guards, and found them exposed much by their 
 carelessness, wherefore he thought it his duty to 
 preserve them by soldiers more under his com¬ 
 mand. 3dly, Intelligence was brought to the 
 committee by a friend, then with the Earl of New¬ 
 castle,that Mr. Francis Pierrepont kept intelligence 
 with his mother the Countess of Kingston, carrying 
 on a design for betraying of the town to the earl, 
 and that letters were carried between them by a 
 woman, who often came to town to the colonel, 
 and that two aldermen and a chief officer, em¬ 
 ployed about the ordnance, were confederates in 
 the plot: whereupon a suspected cannoneer was 
 secured, who, as soon as he obtained his liberty, 
 ran away to Newark. 4thly, When the town was 
 full of troops, there had been several attempts to 
 poison and betray them, which if it should again 
 be attempted, after the most of the forces were 
 gone, might prove effectual. 5thly, The main 
 reason was, that if the town should be surprised 
 or betrayed (which was then most to be feared), 
 the ordnance would be useless ; if any consider¬ 
 able force came against the town, it was impossi¬ 
 ble then to keep the works against them with so 
 few men, and it would be difficult, at such a time, 
 to draw off the artillery ; if any force they were 
 able to deal with came, it would then be time 
 enough, after the alarum was given, to draw 
 them to the works, unless they were surprised. 
 
 It was not only the town malignants that mur¬ 
 mured at the drawing up of the ordnance, but 
 Dr. Plumptre, hearing that the forces were to 
 
50 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON 
 
 march away, was raging at it ; whereupon being 
 answered, that it was for the more public interest 
 of the cause, in great passion he replied, “ What 
 is the cause to me, if my goods be lost ? ” The 
 governor told him, he might prevent that hazard 
 and secure them in the castle. He replied, «It pi¬ 
 tied him to soil them, and he had rather the enemy 
 had them, than they should be spoiled in remov¬ 
 ing.” While this was boiling upon his spirit, he 
 met the governor, with some other gentlemen in 
 the street, and began to rail at him for coun¬ 
 tenancing the godly townsmen, whom he called a 
 company of puritanical prick-eared rascals ; and 
 said, the worst of the malignants the governor had 
 sent out of the town were honester men than the 
 best of those he favoured, and in spite of his teeth 
 he would have three of the most eminent of them 
 turned out of the castle : the governor telling him 
 he would maintain them as the most faithful friends 
 to the cause, Plumptre replied he was as honest 
 to the cause as the governor. “No,” said the 
 governor (who was not ignorant of his atheism), 
 “ that you cannot be, for you go not upon the 
 same principles.” The doctor told him, it was 
 false, with such uncivil insolence, that the governor 
 struck him, at which he departed quietly home ; 
 and after two or three days, retired with his wife 
 and children to the house of Mr. Parkyns of Bun- 
 ney, who was at that time in arms against the 
 parliament, where he stayed till the parliament 
 forces were routed, and Nottingham castle sum¬ 
 moned and preparing for a siege ; and then he sent 
 a ridiculous challenge to the governor, with all 
 the foolish circumstances imaginable, which the 
 governor, at that present, only answered with con¬ 
 tempt. The pretence he made was a distress, 
 wherein the committee had employed some of the 
 governor’s soldiers for the levying an assessment 
 which his brother would not pay, and this distress 
 he called the governor’s affront to his family. 
 Though these passages may seem too impertinent 
 here, yet they having been grounds and begin¬ 
 nings of injurious prosecutions, wherewith the 
 governor was after much exercised, it was not 
 altogether unnecessary to insert them, since even 
 these little things were links in the chain of pro¬ 
 vidences which measured out his life. 
 
 All the horse that had been raised in Notting¬ 
 hamshire marched away with Sir John Meldrum, 
 which were Col. Thornhagh, Major Ireton, Capt. 
 White, and Capt. Farmer’s troops ; who, together 
 with Capt. Lomax and Capt. Scrimpshire’s foot 
 companies, joining with Col. Cromwell’s men, 
 marched to Gainsborough, and engaged those that 
 besieged it, and were victorious, killing their 
 general, Sir Charles Cavendish, with many more 
 commanders, and some hundreds of soldiers ; and 
 this was opportunely done, while my Lord New¬ 
 castle was hastening to come over the water and 
 join with them, who, by a bridge of boats, passed 
 all his army over, and came near Gainsborough, 
 just in a season to behold the rout of all his men. 
 The parliament’s forces expected he would have 
 fallen upon them, and drew up in a body and 
 faced him, but he advanced not, so they contented 
 themselves to relieve Gainsborough, and made a 
 very honourable retreat to Lincoln ; but Gains¬ 
 borough not being fortified nor provided, this 
 relief did not much advantage them, for my Lord 
 Newcastle again besieged it, which was rendered 
 
 to him after eight days, upon honourable condi¬ 
 tions for the defendants,—though they were not 
 performed by the besiegers, for all my Lord 
 Willoughby’s men were disarmed contrary to 
 articles *, and with them, some of the Nottingham 
 soldiers, that had gone into the town to refresh 
 themselves, and so were shut up with them, when 
 my lord laid siege to it; the rest had gone to 
 Lincoln. They had behaved themselves very well 
 in the fight, where Capt. White received a wound 
 in his hand in the forlorn hope ; Col. Thornhagh, 
 who had fought very gallantly, was taken prisoner, 
 and after he was stripped of his arms and coat, 
 a major of the enemy’s, whom the colonel had 
 slightly wounded in the fervour of the fight, came 
 and basely wounded the colonel, being disarmed, 
 so that he left him for dead ; but by the good 
 providence of God, that wound which the enemy 
 intended to give him death, gave him liberty; for 
 coming to himself a little after his hurt, he crept 
 to one of his own tenant's houses, and there had 
 his wounds bound up, and found means to get to 
 Lincoln, from whence all the forces that went 
 from Nottingham dispersed into different services. 
 Major Ireton quite left Col. Thornhagh’s regi¬ 
 ment, and began an inseparable league with Col. 
 Cromwell, whose son-in-law he after was. None 
 of them could return to Nottingham, by reason of 
 my Lord Newcastle’s army, which lay between 
 them and home. 
 
 And now it was time for them at Nottingham 
 to expect my Lord Newcastle, which the governor 
 made provision for with all the diligence that it 
 was possible, under so many difficulties and ob¬ 
 stacles, which would to any one else have been 
 discouragements ; but he had so high a resolu¬ 
 tion, that nothing conquered it. The townsmen, 
 through discontent at the drawing out of the 
 forces, whereby their houses, families, and estates 
 were exposed, began to envy, then to hate the 
 castle, as grieved that anything should be pre¬ 
 served when all could not ; and indeed those who 
 were more concerned in private interests than in 
 the cause itself had some reason, because the 
 neighbourhood of the castle, when it was too weak 
 to defend them, would endanger them. In this 
 hate and discontent, all the soldiers being towns¬ 
 men, except some of the governor’s own company, 
 they resolved they would not go into the castle, to 
 behold the ruin of their houses; little considering 
 that when the governor came first into Notting¬ 
 ham to defend them, at their earnest desire, he 
 left a house and a considerable estate to the 
 mercy of the enemy, rather desiring to advance 
 the cause than to secure his own stake ; but their 
 mean and half-affected hearts were not capable of 
 such things. The governor perceiving this defec¬ 
 tion, set some of the most zealous honest men to 
 find out how many there were in the town who, 
 neglecting all private interests, would cheerfully 
 and freely come in and venture all with him, 
 intending, if he could not have found enough to 
 defend the place, that he would have sent to other 
 neighbouring garrisons to have borrowed some. 
 Upon this inquiry, it was found that many of Col. 
 Pierrepont’s own company were desirous to come 
 in, but first wished to know their colonel’s resolu¬ 
 tion, how he would dispose of them ; whereupon 
 a Hall was called, and the danger of the place 
 
 Particularly noticed by Whitelock. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 declared to the whole town, that they might have 
 time to provide for their goods and persons before 
 the enemy came upon them. The colonel being 
 present, his company asked him what he would 
 advise them to do ; to whom his answer was, 
 
 « You have but three ways to choose, either leave 
 the town and secure yourselves in some other 
 ! parliament garrisons, or list into the castle *, or 
 stand on the works and have your throats cut.” 
 Two or three days after this he went to his 
 mother’s, and carried his children, with part of 
 his goods, and sent his wife to Sir Gervas Clifton’s 
 house. Notwithstanding this public resolution in 
 the Hall to his company, he told them and many 
 others in private, that he preferred the interest of 
 the town above that of his life, and would expose 
 his life for the good of it, and stand on the works 
 of the town as long as they could be defended, 
 and when they could no longer be kept, would 
 retire to some other parliament garrison. Others 
 he told, he scorned his colours should serve in the 
 1 castle ; that if his company went up thither, he 
 would get him a new one, which should follow 
 him wherever he went, and many more such 
 things in private ; but openly, both to the governor 
 and others, approved and encouraged their going 
 into the castle. According to his advice, the 
 townsmen, as they were diversely affected, dis¬ 
 posed of themselves; the malignants all laid down 
 their arms and stayed in the town; some honest 
 and well-affected, but not bold enough to stand 
 the hazard, went to other parliament garrisons 
 and served there ; others secured themselves, 
 their goods, and families, in the country ; some 
 listed into the castle ; one Alderman Nix, captain 
 of two hundred, gave up his commission, his men 
 all disbanded, except about forty, who came into 
 the castle and filled up the broken companies 
 there. At length, out of all the four companies 
 and the whole town, about three hundred men 
 listed into the castle. 
 
 The governor had procured forty barrels of 
 powder, and two thousand weight of match from 
 London, and had increased the store of provision, 
 as much as the present poverty of their condition 
 would permit him. Then the committee of Not¬ 
 tingham, so many of them as were remaining in 
 the town, and all the ministers of the parliament’s 
 party there, came up to the castle, and, with the 
 officers of the garrison, eat at the governor’s, to 
 very great charge, considering that he was so far 
 from receiving pay at that time, that all the 
 money he could procure of his own credit, or take 
 up with others, he was forced to dispend for the 
 j several necessities of the soldiers and garrison ; 
 yet were the soldiers then, and a long time after, 
 kept together as long as they could live, without 
 any pay, and after paid part in victuals, and the 
 rest run on in arr ears __ 
 
 * The particular account which has before been spoken 
 of has in this place a little difference of expression, which 
 yet perhaps signifies much. There Col. Pierrepont says, 
 “ List into the castle with John, for so in a jesting way he 
 used to call Col. Hutchinson,” alluding no doubt to his 
 frank and downright mode of speaking and acting. 
 
 t In all the histories of those times we read so much of the 
 soldiers' complaints for want of pay, and so much of auditing 
 their officers’ acounts, as, being no way reconcileable to 
 modern practice, makes one suppose the officers fraudu¬ 
 lent, the soldiers mutinous; but this opinion will be cor¬ 
 rected by observing what is here recited. Hence we shall 
 
 The townsmen who came into the castle dis¬ 
 posed their families into several villages in the 
 country ; and at length a trumpet was sent, for a 
 safe-conduct for a gentleman from my Lord New¬ 
 castle, and, having it, Major Cartwright came 
 from him with a summons for the delivery of the 
 town and castle, to which the committee for the 
 town, and the governor for the castle, returned a 
 civil defiance in writing, about the tenth day of 
 August. Cartwright having received it, and being 
 treated with wine by the governor and the rest of 
 the officers, grew bold in the exercise of an abu¬ 
 sive wit he had, and told both Mr. Hutchinsons 
 they were sprightly young men, but when my lord 
 should come with his army, he should find them 
 in other terms, beseeching my lord to spare them 
 as misled young men, and suffer them to march 
 away with a cudgel; and “ then,” said he, u shal. 
 
 I stand behind my lord’s chair and laugh.” At 
 which the governor being angry, told him he was 
 much mistaken, for he scorned ever to yield on 
 any terms to a papistical army, led by an atheisti¬ 
 cal general J. Mr. George Hutchinson told him, 
 
 «If my lord would have that poor castle, he must 
 wade to it in blood.” Which words, they say, he 
 told his general. After these summonses were re¬ 
 ceived, the governor drew all his soldiers into the 
 castle, and committed the guard of the town to 
 the aldermen, who were to set guards of fifty in a 
 night, according to their wards. Then calling 
 together his soldiers, he once again represented 
 to them their condition, and told them,-that being 
 religious and honest men, he could be assured no j 
 extremity would make them fail in what they | 
 found themselves strong enough to undertake, and | 
 therefore he should not fear to let them freely 
 understand their danger, which yet they had power 
 to shun, and therefore whatever misery might be 
 the issue of their undertaking, they could not 
 justly impute it to him, it being their own elec¬ 
 tion; for after this summons they must expect 
 the enemy, and to be reduced to the utmost extre¬ 
 mity by them that thought could reach: it must 
 not move them to see their houses flaming, and, 
 if need were, themselves firing of them, for the 
 public advantage; to see the pieces of their families 
 cruelly abused and consumed before them ; they 
 must resolve upon hard duty, fierce assaults, poor 
 and sparing diet, perhaps famine, and want of all j 
 comfortable accommodations ; nor was there very j 
 apparent hope of relief at last, but more than , 
 common hazard of losing their lives, either in j 
 defence of their fort, or with the place ; which, 
 
 likewise conceive a high idea of the virtue of those men, | 
 who started forth out of every rank of life to devote them- I 
 selves to the service of God and their country, and per- j 
 severed through such privations and difficulties : and con- | 
 sider their interference in the settling the constitution of 
 their country, for which they had fought, in a far different 
 light from the tumult and mutiny of mercenary soldiers. 
 
 X Charles the First, when accused of retaining papists, 
 denied having any in his army, and tried to have it 
 believed that those which the Earl of Newcastle had 
 enlisted were unknown to him, although there is ample 
 proof that it was done by his order : that nobleman acted ■ 
 in a much more ingenuous manner, and, as is before | 
 related in a quotation from Sir P. Warwick’s Memoirs, 
 turned the imputation into a jest; probably his indiffer¬ 
 ence about the religion of his soldiers caused the epithet 
 of atheistical to be applied to him, certainly without suffi¬ 
 cient reason. e 2 
 
52 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 for want of good fortifications, and through dis¬ 
 advantage of a neighbouring mount and building, 
 was not, in human probability, tenable against 
 such an army as threatened it: all which, for his 
 own part, he was resolved on, and if any of them 
 found his courage failing, he only desired they 
 would provide for their safety in time elsewhere, 
 and not prejudice him and the public interest so 
 highly as they would do to take upon them the 
 defence of the castle, except they could be content 
 to lay down their lives and all their interests in 
 it. The soldiers were none of them terrified at 
 the dangers which threatened their undertaking ; 
 but at the latter end of August took, upon the 
 solemn fast day, the national covenant, and be¬ 
 sides it, a particular mutual covenant between 
 them and the governor, to be faithful to each 
 other, and to hold out the place to the death, 
 without entertaining any parley, or accepting any 
 terms from the enemy : and this the governor was 
 forced to do to confirm them, for he had his 
 exercise, not only by the ungodly and ill-affected, 
 
 | but even the godly themselves, who thought it 
 I scarce possible for any one to continue a gentle¬ 
 man and firm to a godly interest, and therefore 
 j repaid all his vigilance and labours for them with 
 i a very unjust jealousy*. The governor of New¬ 
 ark was his cousin-german, to whom he was forced, 
 against his nature, to be more uncivil thar to any 
 other that were governors in that place. Whether 
 it were that the dissension of brethren is always 
 most spitefully pursued, or that Sir Richard Biron, 
 as it was reported, suffered under the same suspi¬ 
 cions on his side, it is true they were to each 
 other the most uncivil enemies that can be ima¬ 
 gined. After this summons, my Lord Newcastle 
 came not, according to their bravadoes, but 
 diverted his army to Hull, to besiege my Lord 
 Fairfax there ; they of Newark having gotten him 
 to send this summons upon confidence, knowing 
 the condition of the place, that it would have been 
 yielded to a piece of paper. The governor imme¬ 
 diately set upon the fortification of his castle, 
 made a work behind it, another to the Line side, 
 turned the Dove-cote into a platform, and made 
 a court of guard in Mortimer’s Hole. 
 
 At this time Sir Thomas Hutchinson died at 
 Londonf, and gave all his personal estate, and all 
 that was unsettled at Mr. Hutchinson’s marriage, 
 to his second wife and her children ; at which his 
 two sons had not the least repining thought, but 
 out of tender love were very much afflicted for 
 his loss, and procured a pass from Newark for 
 Mr. George Hutchinson to go to London, to visit 
 his mother and fetch mournings, which accord- 
 ingiy lie did ; and upon a letter the committee 
 sent up by him, brought down an order of parlia¬ 
 ment to allow a table to the governor and com¬ 
 mittee, whom Mr. Hutchinson had till that time 
 entertained, at his own cost, with all the officers 
 of the garrison and the ministers, which were no 
 
 * It passes for a saying of Charles the Second, that the 
 Presbyterian might be a very good religion, but it was not 
 the religion of a gentleman; these good folks seem to hare 
 been of the same mind. 
 
 t August 18, 1643, as appeared by his tombstone, under 
 the communion-table in St. Paul’s Covent Garden, London, 
 
 and that he was 55 when he died_J. H. 
 
 A marginal note written by Julius Hutchinson, grand¬ 
 father of the editor. 
 
 small charge to him, who had a noble heart, and 
 could not basely evade the expense which that 
 place necessarily drew upon him, not only by the 
 constant entertainment of the committee, officers, 
 and ministers, and all parliament officers, that 
 came and went through the garrison, but by the 
 relieving of the poor soldiers, who had such short 
 pay that they were, for the most part, thirty 
 weeks and more behind ; and when they marched 
 out at any time, the governor would not suffer 
 them to take a cup of drink, unpaid for, in the 
 country, but always, wherever they took any re¬ 
 freshment in their marches, paid it himself. He 
 besides gave them much from his own house, 
 especially when any of them were sick or wounded’ 
 and lent moneys to those that were most neces¬ 
 sitous. All this run him into a great private 
 debt, besides many thousands of pounds which 
 he engaged himself in with other gentlemen, taken 
 up for the supply of the garrison and carrying on 
 of the public service. Although the allowance of 
 his table was much envied by those mean fellows 
 that never knew what the expense of a table was, 
 and although it was to him some ease, yet did it 
 not defray the third part of his expense in the 
 service, being but ten pounds a-week allowed by 
 the state, and his expenses all that time, only in 
 the public service, and not at all in any particular 
 of his own family, being, as it was kept upon 
 account, above fifteen hundred pounds a-year. 
 As soon as his father was dead, and rents became 
 due to him, the enemies, in the midst of whom 
 his estate lay, fetched in his tenants and impri¬ 
 soned them, and took his rents ; his estate was 
 begged, and promised by the king ; those who 
 lived not upon the place, flung up his grounds, 
 and they lay unoccupied while the enemy pre¬ 
 vailed in the country. He was not so cruel as 
 others were to their tenants, who made them pay 
 over again those rents which the enemy forced 
 them to redeem themselves out of prison withal, 
 but lost the most part of his rents all the while 
 the country was under the adverse power ; he 
 had some small stock of his own plundered, and 
 his house, by the perpetual haunting of the enemy, 
 defaced, and for want of inhabitation rendered 
 almost uninhabitable. For these things he had 
 some subscriptions J, but never received any penny 
 recompense, and his arrears of pay, which he 
 received after all the war was done, did not half 
 pay the debts those services contracted. But 
 
 t By subscriptions is here meant acknowledgments or 
 certificates given by the committees, which parliament 
 professed to make good, but many times did not. But 
 Col. Hutchinson’s disinterestedness and devotion to the 
 cause did not suffice to exempt him from calumny, for in 
 Walker’s History of Independency, p. 166, et seq. a list is 
 given of members of parliament who were unduly re¬ 
 turned, who held commands contrary to the self-denying 
 ordinance, or had moneys or offices given them. And Col. 
 Hutchinson is accused of all three ,—how absurdly and 
 unjustly every one must perceive. He was regularly 
 elected to parliament in place of his father deceased ; he 
 had a regiment which he raised, and, in a great degree, 
 subsisted himself; he had a government, which, at the 
 time of his undertaking it, was a charge others feared to 
 accept, and which for a long time was a loss and a detri¬ 
 ment to him, and at the end of all he fell far short of 
 receiving as much as he had expended. In the same place 
 Mr. William Pierrepont is most invidiously accused of 
 getting 40,000 £,—but how ? it was the personal estate of his 
 own father ! 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 03 
 
 when he undertook this engagement, it was for 
 the defence of his country’s and God’s cause, and 
 he offered himself, and all he had, a willing sacri¬ 
 fice in the service ; and rather praised God for 
 what was saved than repined at what was spent, 
 it being above his expectation, that deliverance 
 which God gave him out of his enemies’ hands. 
 He might have made many advantages by the 
 spoil of his enemies, which was often brought in, 
 and by other encroachments upon the country, 
 which almost all the governors, on both sides, 
 exacted everywhere else, but his heart abhorred 
 it: all prize the soldiers had, and he never shared 
 it; all malignants’ goods the committee disposed 
 of, and it ever grieved his heart to see the spoil 
 of his neighbours, how justly soever they deserved 
 it; but he chose all loss, rather than to make up 
 himself* by violence and rapine. If, in a judicial 
 way, he were forced at any time, in discharge of 
 his trust, to sign any harsh orders against any 
 of the gentlemen of the country, it was with grief 
 that they should deserve that severity; but this 
 testimony is a truth of him, that in his whole 
 actings in this cause, he never prosecuted any 
 private lust, either of revenge, ambition, avarice, 
 or vain-glory, under a public vizard, but was 
 most truly public-spirited. Conscience to God, 
 and truth and righteousness, according to the 
 best information he could get, engaged him in 
 that party he took ; that which engaged him, 
 carried him through all along, though he encoun¬ 
 tered with no less difficulties and contradictions 
 from those of his own party, that were not of 
 the same spirit he was, than from his enemies. 
 
 The death of Sir Thomas Hutchinson made 
 every way a great reverse in the affairs of his 
 eldest son, who had before been looked upon as 
 his father’s heir, and reverenced as much, or 
 rather more, upon his father’s score than his 
 own, so that no man durst attempt to injure him, 
 whom they looked upon under such a powerful 
 protection. Sir Thomas and his fathers before 
 him had ever deserved very well of their country, 
 and, as lovers of their country, their neighbours 
 had an implicit faith in all their dictates and 
 actions, insomuch that Sir Thomas Hutchinson’s 
 j single authority swayed, with many, more than 
 all the greater names of the country. But he at 
 
 I hfe death having divided, all things considered, 
 his estate between the children of his two wives, 
 though it be true the latter deserved more than 
 they had, yet it is as true the first deserved not 
 to be so much lessened as they were : and Mr. 
 Hutchinson having been known to be the most 
 
 [ pious and obedient son, from his childhood, that 
 ever any father was blest in, when it came to be 
 known that his father had given away all that 
 was in his power to give from him, those that 
 had a great reverence and esteem for Sir Thomas 
 would not believe him so defective in justice, to 
 do this without some secret cause ; and therefore 
 it was given out that he was displeased with his 
 son’s engagement, and for that cause disposed 
 away so much of his estate from them. But that 
 was not so ; indeed at the time of his death 
 I the parliament’s interest was so low that he 
 j might well look upon them as lost persons, and 
 so what he gave away to the unengaged infant he 
 
 * Make himself up, make himself whole, reimburse 
 himself. 
 
 might well look upon as all that could be pre¬ 
 served. Mr. Hutchinson had only an allowance 
 from his father, while he lived, which was duly 
 paid him ; but as soon as he died, all his estate 
 was seized by the enemy; who had so much desire 
 not to injure publicly a person so popular, that 
 they disturbed not Sir Thomas’s tenants while 
 he lived, though he continued with the parlia¬ 
 ment, and faithful to their interest, because he 
 was moderate, and one that applied all his endea¬ 
 vours to peace, which he did not out of policy, 
 but out of conscience to his country, and a wise 
 foresight of the sad consequences of a conquest 
 by either side; for he hath often expressed, that 
 accommodation was far more desirable than war, 
 and he dreaded that the spirits of those men 
 would become most insolent after conquest, who 
 were so violently bent to prosecute a war ; that 
 some of them, whom we have since known to be 
 vile apostates, then professed they abhorred ac¬ 
 commodation. This report of Sir Thomas’s dis¬ 
 like of his son’s engagement was raised and 
 dispersed by those who themselves were ill-affected 
 to it; but, however, it abated all the respects men 
 had for him upon any account but his own. 
 Those who had entertained a secret envy of him, 
 now feared not to manifest it, and began to work 
 secret mines, to blow him up on all sides ; but 
 God was with him, and disappointed all his 
 enemies, and made his virtues more illustrious 
 by the oppositions they encountered with, and the 
 removal of all those props of wealth and power 
 which are necessary to hold up weaker fabrics *. 
 
 Soon after the death of his father, one Mr. 
 
 * Here is in the original a marginal note in the follow¬ 
 ing words:—“ The division of Sir Thomas Hutchinson’s 
 estate. Sir Thomas Hutchinson being mightily beloved 
 in the country, and a moderate man, using all his endea¬ 
 vours for peace, his estate was never plundered in his life¬ 
 time; and though it is here falsely insinuated that he 
 approved of his son’s conduct in taking arms against the 
 king, it is most true that he was extremely afflicted at it, 
 being altogether for peace, and condemned such rash 
 counsels as arms on both sides; and the miseries he saw 
 his king and country involved in were certainly the occa¬ 
 sion of his death: and though Sir T. Hutchinson sat longer 
 in the house than many honest men, it was only in hopes 
 by his moderate counsels to effect a happy peace between 
 his king and country. All this I have heard attested by 
 his lady and relict, my grandmother. Teste J. Hutchin¬ 
 son.” This is that testimony of Lady Katharine Hutchin¬ 
 son which was spoken of in the preface, and which, in 
 attempting to impeach the veracity of the author in a 
 single point, contributes largely to corroborate it in all. 
 In the very instance before us there seems much more 
 reason for the opinion of Mrs. Hutchinson than of Lady 
 Katharine : Sir Thomas Hutchinson had before been impri¬ 
 soned for his opposition to the court; was in this parlia¬ 
 ment on all committees for the reform of religion; sat 
 with the parliament after the war was deeply engaged; 
 sent his sons arms, and promoted their desires to the par¬ 
 liament : it is incredible that he should have any great 
 objection to the part they took, other than the general 
 one of regretting that arms were taken on either side. The 
 most probable thing is. that this lady, being of the same 
 party and opinion as her brother and family, and jealous 
 of Sir Thomas Hutchinson’s children by his former wife, 
 influenced him to their disadvantage in the making of his 
 will, and set up these reasons to countenance it after his 
 death. The other estates of Sir Thomas Hutchinson in 
 Notts were fully equal, if not superior, in value to that of 
 Owthorpe. This being the only instance wherein the 
 truth of the narrative is called in question, and this ccr- 
 
 I 
 
 ! 
 
54 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 Ayscough, a gentleman of the country, allied to 
 Sir Richard, since Lord Biron, then governor of 
 Newark, came to the governor of Nottingham, 
 and told him that Sir Richard Biron, out of that 
 tender natural affection which he ever had for 
 him, and still preserved, desired him now to con¬ 
 sider his wife and children, and the loss of his 
 whole estate, which was so inevitable, if he per¬ 
 sisted in the engagement he was in ; that some 
 had already been suing to the Earl of Newcastle 
 for it ; but if he would return to his obedience to 
 the king, he might not only preserve his estate, 
 but have what reward he pleased to propound for 
 so doing: to which, the governor telling him this 
 was a thing he ought to scorn, Mr. Ayscough 
 told him that Sir Richard had, only out of love 
 and tender compassion to him, given him this 
 employment, with many protestations how much 
 Sir Richard desired to employ all his interest to 
 save him, if it were possible, and therefore begged 
 of him that if he would still persist in this party, 
 that he would yet quit himself of this garrison, 
 and go into my Lord of Essex’s army ; for there, 
 he said', Sir Richard would find pretence to save 
 his rents for him for the present, and his estate 
 for the future ; for, said he, he can plead, u you 
 were an inconsiderate young man, rashly engaged, 
 and dares assure himself to beg your pardon ; 
 but to keep a castle against your king is a rebel¬ 
 lion of so high a nature, that there will be no 
 colour left to ask favour for you.” The governor 
 told him he should deliver the same propositions, 
 and receive his answer, before some witnesses; 
 whereupon he carried the gentlemen to two of 
 the committee, before whom he repeated his 
 message, and the governor bade him return Sir 
 Richard answer, “ That except he found his own 
 heart prone to such treachery, he might consider 
 there was, if nothing else, so much of a Biron’s 
 blood in him, that he should very much scorn to 
 betray or quit a trust he had undertaken ; but 
 the grounds he went on were such, that he very 
 much despised such a thought as to sell his faith 
 for base rewards or fears, and therefore could 
 not consider the loss of his estate, which his wife 
 was as willing to part with as himself, in this 
 cause, wherein he was resolved to persist, in the 
 same place in which it had pleased God to call 
 him * * to the defence of it.” 
 
 About this time a woman was taken, whereof 
 the committee had before been informed that she 
 earned intelligence between Col. Pierrepont and 
 his mother, the Countess of Kingston. The woman 
 was now going through Nottingham, with letters 
 from the old countess to her daughter-in-law, the 
 colonel’s wife, who was then at Clifton ; Sir Gervas 
 Clifton’s house. In this packet there was a letter 
 drawn, which the countess advised her daughter to 
 sign, to be sent to Col. Stanton, one of the king’s 
 
 tainly invidiously, if not unjustly, we may safely say we 
 j have the testimony of an adversary in our favour to all 
 the rest. 
 
 * Notice is taken by Whitelock of several attempts to 
 prevail on Col. Hutchinson to betray his trust, and of his 
 steady adherence to it: there will be seen other instances 
 more remarkable than this, hut here are two things ex- ' 
 tremely well worth notice; this elegant and forcible apo¬ 
 strophe to Sir Richard Byron; and the patriotic and dis¬ 
 interested devotion of Mrs. Hutchinson to the cause, at 
 j least a rare example in her sex. 
 
 colonels, to entreat back from him some goods of her 
 husband’s which he had plundered; wherein there 
 were these expressions: « That though her hus¬ 
 band was unfortunately engaged in the unhappy 
 rebellion, she hoped ere long he would approve him¬ 
 self a loyal subject to his Majesty.” The committee 
 having read these letters, sealed them up again, 
 and enclosed them in another to the colonel, then 
 at Derby, telling him, that having intercepted such 
 letters, and not knowing whether his wife might 
 follow her mother’s advice, which, if he should, 
 would prove very dishonourable to him, they had 
 chosen rather to send the letters to him, than to 
 her. The colonel was vexed that they had opened 
 them, but for the present took no notice of it. All 
 the horse having been drawn out of Nottingham 
 to the relief of Gainsborough, and the Newarkers, 
 knowing that the garrison was utterly destitute, 
 plundered all the country, even to the walls of Not¬ 
 tingham; upon which some godly men offered 
 themselves to bring in their horses, and form a 
 troop for the defence of the country, and one Mr. 
 Palmer, a minister, had a commission to be their 
 captain. This man had a bold, ready, earnest way 
 of preaching, and lived holily and regularly, as to 
 outward conversation, whereby he got a great 
 reputation among the godly, and this reputation 
 swelled his spirit, which was very vain-glorious, 
 covetous, contentious, and ambitious : he had in¬ 
 sinuated himself so as to make these godly men 
 desire him for their captain, which he had more 
 vehement longing after than they, yet would have 
 it believed that it was rather pressed upon him, 
 than he pressed into it; and, therefore, being at 
 that time in the castle with his family, and feeding 
 at the governor’s table, who gave him room in his 
 own lodgings, and all imaginable respect, he came 
 to the governor and his wife, telling them that 
 these honest people pressed him very much to be 
 their captain, and desiring their friendly and Chris¬ 
 tian advice, whether he should accept or refuse it. 
 They freely told him that, having entered into a 
 charge of another kind, they thought it not fit to 
 engage in this, and that he might as much advance 
 the public service and satisfy the men in marching 
 with them in the nature of a chaplain, as in that of 
 a captain. He, that asked not counsel to take any 
 contrary to his first resolve, went away confused 
 when he found he was not advised as he would 
 have been, and said he would endeavour to per¬ 
 suade them to be content; and after said they 
 would not be otherwise satisfied, and so he was 
 forced to accept the commission. The governor 
 having only declared his own judgment when he 
 was asked, as a Christian ought to do according to 
 his conscience, left the captain to act according to 
 his own, and censured him not, but entertained 
 him with the same freedom and kindness he had 
 done, before; but the man being guilty* of the 
 avarice and ambition of his own heart, never after 
 that looked upon the governor with a clear eye, 
 but sought to blow up all factions against him, 
 whenever he found opportunity, and in the mean¬ 
 time dissembled it as well as he could. And now 
 before his troop was well raised, Col. Thornhagh 
 being recovered, brought back his troop from Lin¬ 
 coln, and both the troops quartered in the town; 
 which being a bait to invite the enemy, the 
 governor gave charge to all that belonged to the cas- 
 * Guilty; Latin, sibi conscius, conscious of. 
 
MEMOIRS OF TIIE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 tie, being about three hundred men, that they should 
 not, upon any pretence whatever, be out of their 
 quarters; but they having, many of them, wives 
 and better accommodations in the town, by stealth 
 disobeyed his commands, and seldom left any more 
 in the castle than what were upon the guard. 
 
 The townsmen were every night set upon the 
 guard of the town, according to the wards of the 
 aldermen ; but the most of them being disaffected, 
 the governor, fearing treachery, had determined 
 to quarter the hoi'se in those lanes which were 
 next to the castle, and to block up the lanes for 
 the better securing 'them. Just the night before 
 these lanes should have been blocked up, Aider- 
 man Toplady, a great malignant, having the watch, 
 
 | the enemy was by treachery let into the town, and 
 no alarum given to the castle ; though there were 
 two muskets at the gate where they entered, both 
 of them were surrendered without one shot to give 
 notice, and all the horse, and about two parts of the 
 castle soldiers, betrayed, surprised, and seized on in 
 their beds, but there were not above fourscore of 
 the castle foot taken; the rest hid themselves, and 
 privately stole away, some into the country, some 
 by night came up to the castle and got in, in dis¬ 
 guises, by the river side; but the cavaliers were 
 possessed of the town, and no notice at all given to 
 the castle. When, at the beating of reveille, some 
 of the soldiers that had. been on the watch all night, 
 were going down into the town to refresh them- 
 . selves ; they were no sooner out of the castle-gates, 
 but some of the enemy’s musketeers discharged 
 upon them, and they hasting back, got in with 
 such care that the enemy was prevented of their 
 design of falling in with them. They brought a 
 strong alarum into the castle, where the governor 
 coming forth, was exceedingly vexed to find that 
 his men were, so many of them, contrary to his 
 ! command, wanting in their quarters; but it was 
 no time to be angry, but to apply himself to do 
 what was possible to preserve the place; where¬ 
 fore he immediately despatched messengers, by a 
 • private sally-port, to Leicester and Derby, to de¬ 
 sire their assistance, either to come and help beat 
 the enemy out of the town, or to lend him some 
 foot to help keep the castle, in which there was 
 but fourscore men, and never a lieutenant nor 
 any head officer but his brother, nor so much as a 
 surgeon among them. As soon as the governor 
 had despatched his messengers he went up to the 
 towers, and from thence played his ordnance into 
 I the town, which seldom failed of execution upon 
 ! the enemy; but there was an old church, called 
 St. Nicholas Church, whose steeple so commanded 
 the platform that the men could not play the 
 ordnance without woolpacks before them. From 
 this church the bullets played so thick into the 
 outward castle yard, that they could not pass from 
 one gate to the other, nor relieve the guards, but 
 with very great hazard, and one weak old man was 
 shot the first day, who, for want of a surgeon, bled to 
 death before they could carry him up to the 
 governor’s wife, who at that time supplied that 
 want as well as she could ; but at night the 
 governor and his men dug a trench between the 
 two gates, through which they afterwards better 
 secured their passage. In the meantime the cava¬ 
 liers that came from Newark, being about six hun¬ 
 dred, fell to ransack and plunder all the honest 
 men’s houses in the town, and the cavaliers of the 
 
 
 town, who had called them in, helped them in this 
 work. Their prisoners they at first put into the 
 sheep-pens in the market place*, where an honest 
 townsman seeing four or five commanders go into 
 his own house, procured a cunning boy that came by 
 him, while the enemy regarded more their plunder 
 than the prisoners, to run privately up to the castle 
 and give them notice, who sent a cannon-bullet pre¬ 
 sently into the house. The cavaliers called in all the 
 country as soon as they were in the town, and made 
 a fort at the Trent bridges, and thither they carried 
 down all their considerable plunder and prisoners. 
 The next day after Sir Richard Biron had surprised 
 the town, Mr. Hastings, since made Lord of Lough¬ 
 borough, then governor of Ashby de la Zouch, 
 came with a body of about four hundred men, 
 but being displeased that the plunder was begun 
 before he came, he returned again and left the 
 Newark gentlemen to themselves, who, as they 
 made a fort at the bridges, threw down the half 
 moons and bulwarks that had been raised about 
 the town. They staid five days, but very unquietly, 
 for the cannon and muskets from the castle failed 
 not of execution daily upon many of them, and 
 they durst not in all that time go to bed. The 
 third day Major Cartwright sent a letter, desiring 
 the governor or his brother to come and meet him 
 in St. Nicholas Church, and promised them safe 
 passage and return; but the governor read the 
 letter to his soldiers, and commanded a red flag 
 to be set upon the tower, to bid them defiance, 
 and shot three pieces of cannon at the steeple, in 
 answer to his desired parley. 
 
 Five days the enemy staid in the town, and all 
 that time the governor and his soldiers, none of 
 them, were off from the guard, but if they slept, 
 which they never did in the night, it was by them 
 that watched. At length on Saturday, September 
 the twenty-third, in the afternoon, the governor 
 saw a great many goods and persons going over 
 the Line bridge, and not knowing what it meant, 
 sent some cannon-bullets after them ; when on 
 the other side of the town he discerned a body 
 of men, whom he knew not at first, whether friends 
 or foes, but having at that time about eight score 
 men in the castle, for in that five days’ space four¬ 
 score were come in by stealth, he caused them all 
 to be drawn out in the castle-yard, and perceiving 
 that those he last saw were friends, he sent out 
 his brother. Major Hutchinson, with all the mus¬ 
 keteers that could be spared, to help drive the 
 enemy out of the town. They having effected 
 what they came for, in fortifying the bridges, had 
 nothing more to do but to get safe off, which they 
 endeavoured with more haste and disorder than 
 became good and stout soldiers. When Major 
 Hutchinson came into the town with his men, they, 
 greedy of knowing what was become of their wives 
 and houses, dropped so fast from behind him to 
 make the inquiry, that they had left him only at 
 the head of sixteen men, when Sir Richard Biron, 
 with Captain Hacker, followed by a whole troop of 
 horse and a foot company, came upon him. The 
 major commanded his men to charge them, which 
 they did, but shot over ; yet falling in with them 
 pell-mell, they had gotten Sir Richard Biron down, 
 and they had his hat, but he escaped, though h is 
 
 * It appears by Deering’s account of Nottingham that 
 these once occupied a considerable portion of the market¬ 
 place. 
 
 
56 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 horse was so wounded that it fell dead in the next 
 street. 
 
 These men that came to the governor’s relief 
 were Captain White with his troop, who quartered 
 at Leicester, in his return from Lincolnshire, 
 from whence he was coming back to Nottingham ; 
 and at Leicester met the messenger the governor 
 had sent for assistance, which he prosecuted so, 
 that from the two garrisons of Leicester and 
 Derby, with his own troop, he brought about four 
 hundred men. As soon as they were come into 
 the town Sir John Gell’s men, seeing the cavaliers 
 had a mind to be gone, interrupted them not, but 
 being as dexterous at plunder as fight, they pre¬ 
 sently went to Toplady’s house, who had betrayed 
 the town, and plundered it and some others, while 
 the governor’s soldiers were busy in clearing the 
 town of the enemy. When they had done this, 
 the governor did what he could to restrain the 
 plunder ; but the truth is, Gell’s men were nimble 
 youths at that work, yet there was not very much 
 mischief done by them. Toplady’s house fared 
 the worst, but his neighbours saved much of his 
 goods; he himself, with several other townsmen 
 and countrymen, who had been very active against 
 the well-affected, at this time were brought up 
 prisoners to the castle. There were not above 
 five-and-twenty of the Newark soldiers taken; how 
 many were slain at their going off and during the 
 time of their stay we could not certainly tell, be¬ 
 cause they had means of carrying them off by the 
 bridge, where they left Captain Hacker governor* 
 of their new fort with fourscore men. Their pri¬ 
 soners and plunder they sent away in boats to 
 Newark ; many of the townsmen went with them, 
 carrying away not only their own, but their neigh¬ 
 bours’ goods, and much more had been carried 
 away, but that the unexpected sally of the castle 
 prevented them. Dr. Plumptre, one of the com¬ 
 mittee of Nottingham, whom they found prisoner 
 at the marshal’s house in the town, and released, 
 went out of town with them. This man, when he 
 had provoked the governor to strike him, upon 
 his malicious and uncivil railings against h im 
 for the respect he showed to the godly men of 
 the ton'll, had retired to the house of a malig¬ 
 nant gentleman in arms against the parliament; 
 had received a protection from the governor of 
 Newark, and had divers meetings with the Newark 
 officers; yet after all this had the impudence 
 to come into the town of Nottingham : and in 
 all the taverns and ale-houses he came into, to 
 belch out abominable scoffs and taunts against the 
 governor and the committee men, before Col. 
 Thornhagh’s face, who commanded him out of 
 the room for it; and upon information of these 
 things to the governor and the committee, he was 
 sent for by some musketeers, and the enemy’s 
 protection for himself and his goods found about 
 him, for which he was committed prisoner, but 
 there being no good accommodation for him in 
 the castle, the governor, in more civility than he 
 
 * The brother of Colonel Hacker, who was tried, con¬ 
 demned, and executed, for attending the execution of 
 Charles the First. This brother, who served the king 
 during the whole Avar with great zeal, could not obtain the 
 pardon of Col. Hacker, nor prevent the confiscation of his 
 family estate, which was granted to the Duke of York, the 
 king’s brother, from whom he was obliged to ransom it at 
 a high rate: it lay at Colston Basset, joining to Owthorpe. 
 
 deserved, suffered him to be in the town, whence 
 he went with them, and after retired to Derby. 
 At the same time, the cavaliers having taken some 
 prisoners upon the parliament’s score who lived 
 quietly in the country, the committee had fetched 
 in some gentlemen’s sons of their party, who were 
 left at their fathers’ houses, whereof one was 
 remaining at the marshal’s house when the cava¬ 
 liers came into the town, whom the governor suf¬ 
 fered to be there upon his parole, there being no 
 good accommodation for him in the castle. Him 
 the cavaliers would have had to have gone away 
 with them, but he would not ; which handsome 
 behaviour so took the governor, that he freely 
 gave him his liberty without exchange. 
 
 As soon as the enemy was driven out of the 
 town, the governor brought down two pieces of 
 ordnance to the market-place, and entreated the 
 soldiers that were come from Leicester and Derby 
 to march with him immediately, to assault them 
 in their fort at the bridges, before they had time 
 to put themselves in order, and re-collect their 
 confused souls, after their chase ; but the major 
 of Derby, an old dull-headed Dutchman, said ten 
 thousand men could not do it, and would by no 
 means be entreated to go on, nor to stay one day 
 longer, but to stand by while the governor made 
 the attempt with his own men. He, when he saw 
 he could not prevail, thought it not convenient, 
 at that time, to urge his men beyond their power, 
 after they had had a week of such sore labour, 
 and so much discontented that he could not effect 
 his desire, he drew back his ordnance into the 
 castle. Here his women, while the men were all 
 otherwise employed, had provided him as large a 
 supper as the time and present condition would 
 permit, at which he entertained all the strangers, 
 and his own officers and gentlemen. 
 
 . There was a large room, which was the chapel, 
 in the castle : this they had filled full of prisoners, 
 besides a very bad prison, which was no better 
 than a dungeon, called the Lion’s Den; and the 
 new Captain Palmer, and another minister, having 
 nothing else to do, walked up and down the castle 
 yard, insulting and beating the poor prisoners as they 
 were brought up. In the encounter, one of the 
 Derby captains was slain, and five of our men 
 hurt, who for want of another surgeon, were 
 brought to the governor’s wife, and she having 
 some excellent balsams and plasters in her closet, 
 with the assistance of a gentleman that had some 
 skill, dressed all their wounds, whereof some were 
 dangerous, being all shots, with such good success, 
 that they were all well cured in convenient timeE 
 After our hurt men were dressed, as she stood at 
 her chamber door, seeing three of the prisoners 
 sorely cut, and carried down bleeding into the 
 Lion’s Den, she desired the marshal to bring 
 them in to her, and bound up and dressed their 
 wounds also : which while she was doing. Captain 
 
 t The reader will remember that the mother of Mrs. 
 Hutchinson had patronised and assisted Sir Walter Raleigh, 
 v/hen prisoner in the Tower, in his chymical experiments, 
 and had acquired a little knowledge of medicine; whether 
 her daughter had obtained instructions from her mother, 
 or the mother herself was here (for she passed the latter 
 part of her life with her daughter, and died in her house at 
 Owthorpe), is uncertain.—Mrs. Hutchinson was certainly 
 an extraordinary Avoman, and this is not one of the least 
 singular, nor least amiable, instances of it. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON._57 
 
 Palmer came in and told her his soul abhorred to j 
 see this favour to the enemies of God ; she replied, 
 she had done nothing but what she thought was 
 b her duty in humanity to them, as fellow-creatures, 
 not as enemies: but he was very ill satisfied with 
 > her, and with the governor presently after, when 
 • he came into a large room where a very great 
 supper was prepared, and more room and meat 
 than guests, to fill up which, the governor had 
 o sent for one Mr. Mason, one of the prisoners, a 
 a man of good fashion, who had married a relation of 
 '( his, and was brought up more in fury, than for any 
 proof of guilt in him, and I know not whether 
 ( two or three others the governor had called to 
 meat with them ; for which Captain Palmer bel¬ 
 lowed loudly against him, as a favourer of malig- 
 l nants and cavaliers. Who could have thought 
 : this godly, zealous man, who could scarce eat his 
 supper for grief to see the enemies of God thus 
 favoured, should have after entered into a con¬ 
 spiracy against the governor, with those very 
 same persons, who now so much provoked his 
 zeal ? But the governor took no notice of it, though 
 he set the very soldiers a muttering against him 
 and his wife, for these poor humanities. 
 
 The next day, the neighbour forces returned 
 home. Col. Thornhagh having lost the most of 
 his troop, went to London to get another ; Captain 
 White staid at Nottingham with his, where intel¬ 
 ligence being given that the cavaliers intended to 
 possess themselves of Broxtow and Woollerton, 
 two gentlemen’s houses within two miles a-piece 
 of Nottingham, Captain Palmer was sent with the 
 remainder of his men to keep Broxtow house, and 
 the governor’s captain-lieutenant with his com¬ 
 pany to Woollerton. The governor, at Nottingham, 
 broke up the Line bridge to prevent the cavaliers 
 coming suddenly that way into the town ; then he 
 blocked up the lanes next the castle, and cut up 
 all the hedges, that were dangerous to make ap- 
 I proaches to the castle, and having the experience 
 
 I of the mischief of it, pulled down St. Nicholas 
 Church by the advice of the committee* 
 
 Presently after the cavaliers were gone out of the 
 town, some naughty people, set on by them, fired 
 the town, but it was quenched without burning 
 above two or three houses ; yet for a fortnight 
 together it was perpetually attempted, fire being 
 laid to hay-barns and other combustible places, 
 insomuch that the women were forced to walk by 
 fifty in a night to prevent the burning, which the 
 committee perceiving to be attempted by the insti- 
 i gation of the Newark gentlemen, they wrote them 
 word, that if they forbade not their instruments, 
 j if so much as one house were fired, they would 
 
 * It is said, in Deering’s History of Nottingham, that this 
 1 church was pulled down hy Col. Hutchinson, and the 
 | bells carried to Owthorpe; which last was at that time 
 I impossible, the enemy being in possession of the Vale of 
 Bel voir and the ways to it. And moreover, the church at 
 Owthorpe was, as Deering in another place observes, too 
 small to contain them. In Throshy’s edition of Thoroton, 
 he remarks that neither Deering nor Thoroton were pro¬ 
 perly acquainted with the circumstances of that affair; 
 and mentions, that in digging near the foundation cf the 
 present tower (for the church has been rebuilt), a bell 
 i wa 3 found, evidently broken to pieces at the demolition of 
 
 I * I the church; probably by the cannon-shot which was sent 
 : in answer to Major Cartwright’s message. The situation 
 J of this church was both very near to the castle, and on a 
 j parallel height. 
 
 fire all the cavaliers’ houses near them. The 
 gentlemen returned them a scornful letter, full of 
 taunts and disdain, but after that no more houses 
 were attempted with fire. 
 
 The Derby soldiers, when they returned home, 
 being asked why they left the cavaliers at the 
 bridges unassaulted, made answer, they would 
 have beaten them out, but the governor would 
 not lend them a piece of ordnance out of his 
 castle ; which false report, when the governor 
 heard, piqued him heartily, being so notorious a 
 lie ; for he drew down two pieces of ordnance, 
 and could not entreat them but to stand by, while 
 he attempted it with his own men ; but their 
 Major Molanus, being an old soldier, discouraged 
 our soldiers, and told them, it was a vain and 
 impossible attempt. For this cause, the governor 
 resolved he would set upon it alone, whenever it 
 was seasonable; and watching an opportunity, he 
 soon took it, at a time when intelligence was 
 brought him, that all the forces Newark could 
 send forth, were gone upon a design into Lincoln¬ 
 shire. Then, on the Lord’s day, under colour of 
 hearing a sermon at the great church in the town, 
 he went thither, and, after sermon, from the 
 steeple, took a view of the fort at the bridges, 
 no one perceiving his design but his engineer, 
 who was with him, and took a full survey of 
 Hacker’s works. Then, after supper, he called 
 the committee together, and communicated his 
 intentions to them, which they approved of. So all 
 that night he spent in preparations against the next 
 morning ; he sent away orders to the horse and 
 foot that lay at Broxtow to come to him in the 
 morning by eight of the clock, with all the pioneers 
 they could gather up in the country ; he sent into 
 the town, and caused all the pioneers there to be 
 brought up, under pretence of making a breastwoi’k 
 before the castle gates, and pretending to set them 
 upon the platforms, caused all the cannon baskets 
 to be filled, which he intended for rolling trenches. 
 All things, betimes in the morning, being gotten 
 into perfect readiness, and so discreetly ordered, 
 that the enemy had no notice from any of their 
 friends in town, nor knew anything of the design 
 till it was ready, the governor, about eleven of 
 the clock on Monday morning, marched out, 
 although the weather at that time, being very 
 tempestuous and rainy, seemed to have combined 
 with his enemies and withstood the attempt ; but 
 the soldiers were rather animated than dis¬ 
 couraged, thinking that difficulties, after they 
 were vanquished, would increase their glory. So 
 when the ugly storm had, three or four hours, 
 wasted itself in its fury on them, it fell at their 
 feet, and no more envious clouds obscured the 
 cheerful face of heaven, so long as they continued 
 in the field. The governor’s own company marched 
 through the meadows and gave the alarm to the 
 enemy’s foot, while Mr. George Hutchinson s com¬ 
 pany went through the lanes to gain a nook 
 which was very advantageous for the approaches 
 of our men, and which they easily possessed them¬ 
 selves of, and then advancing, planted their colours 
 within musket-shot of the fort. Although they 
 planted so many colours, the governor had but 
 eight-score foot, and a hundred horse, in all that 
 went with him out of the castle, but he set the 
 pioneers fairly among them to make the better 
 show. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 When the colours were thus planted, the pio¬ 
 neers were set to work to cast up a breast-work, 
 and being left in a safe posture with the inferior 
 officers, the governor and his brother went up to 
 the castle to order the drawing down of the 
 ordnance : meanwhile the cavaliers sallied out of 
 their fort to gain the colours, at whose approach 
 all the pioneers ran away from their works, but 
 the soldiers kept their ground and their colours, 
 and beat back the enemy into their own fort, 
 killing some of them, whereof two were left dead 
 before our men, whom they thought it not safe to 
 carry off. Our horse meeting the flying pioneers, 
 brought them back again to their works, which 
 they continued all that day, and the cava¬ 
 liers attempted no more sallies. At evening the 
 ordnance were brought down and planted within 
 musket-shot of the fort, and then the governor 
 despatched a messenger to Derby to tell Sir John 
 Cell, if he pleased to send any of his men, they 
 might come and see the fort taken. Accordingly 
 on Tuesday the Dutch major came, with about 
 six-score, foot and dragoons. Hard by the fort, 
 at the bridges, at that side our men approached, 
 there were two houses full of coals, into which, if 
 the cavaliers had put any men, they might have 
 done much mischief to the assailants ; wherefore 
 the governor sent two or three soldiers, who very 
 boldly went almost under their works and fired 
 them both, by the light of which, burning all night, 
 the governor’s men wrought all that night in their 
 trenches, and cut a trench in the meadows, some 
 of them calling to the cavaliers in the fort, and 
 keeping them in abusive replies, one upon another, 
 while the pioneers carried on their works ; the 
 governor and his brother, and all the other officers 
 continuing all night in the trenches with them, 
 they behaved themselves so cheerfully, that the 
 governor gave them the next morning twenty 
 pounds, and they had very good drink and provi¬ 
 sions brought them out of the garrison, which much 
 encouraged them, but the governor’s presence 
 and alacrity among them much more. When 
 the Derby men came on Tuesday, the Dutch major 
 came down to the trenches, and told the governor 
 that he wondered he would attempt the fort, for 
 it was impregnable, and therefore much dissuaded 
 him from going on, and said he and his men 
 would return. The governor told him he and the 
 soldiers with him were resolved to leave their 
 lives rather than their attempt, and if they failed 
 for want of seconding by that force which was 
 sent with him to their assistance, let the blame 
 lie on him. When the Derby officers saw him so 
 resolute to persist, they, after much dissuasion 
 and dispute, determined to stay, and the officers 
 went up with the governor to supper in the castle; 
 the soldiers to quarters provided for them in the 
 town : but after supper, the governor went down 
 again, and stayed all night in the trenches with 
 his men, and left them not as long as they stayed 
 there, but only to fetch down what was necessary 
 for them. He, his brother, and all the officers, 
 were every night with them, and made them con¬ 
 tinue their custom of railing at each other in the 
 dark, while they carried on their approaches. 
 There was in the Trent a little piece of ground, 
 which, by damming up the water, the cavaliers 
 had made an island j while some of the soldiers 
 held them in talk, others on Wednesday night 
 
 cut the sluice, and by break of day on Thursday 
 morning had pitched two colours in the island, 
 within carbine-shot of the fort, and the governor’s 
 company had as much advanced their approach 
 on the other side. When they in the fort saw, in 
 the morning, how the assailants had advanced, 
 while they were kept secure in talk all the night, 
 they were extremely mad, and swore like devils, 
 which made the governor and his men great sport: 
 and then it was believed they in the fort began to 
 think of flight; which the besiegers not expecting, 
 still continued their approaches, and that day got 
 forty yards nearer in the island and on the other 
 side. Although Sir John Gell’s men came but 
 on Tuesday, on Thursday the second messenger 
 came from him to call them back. The governor 
 entreated them to stay that night and keep the 
 trenches, while his men refreshed themselves, 
 which they did ; but his men would not go out of 
 their trenches, but slept there to fit themselves for 
 the assault which the governor had resolved in the 
 morning, and for that purpose, after he had left 
 them with all things provided in their trenches, 
 he went to the castle to see the fire-balls and 
 other necessaries for the assault brought down, 
 and at three in the morning came with them, when 
 the soldiers told him the cavaliers in the fort had 
 for two hours left off shooting,. He sent some 
 soldiers then to the work-sides to discover what 
 this meant; but they, perceiving the place empty, 
 went in and found that all the garrison was stolen 
 away, and had left behind them four-score sheep, 
 a hundred loads of coals, twenty quarters of oats, 
 much hay, a great deal of plundered lead, and a 
 fort so strong, that if they had had such courage as 
 became men of their profession, they would never 
 have quitted it. They left all their works standing, 
 and only broke up tAvo arches of the Trent bridges 
 to hinder the governor’s men from following them. 
 Their flight was by that means secured, the river 
 being so out that the horse could not ford over. 
 Mr. George Hutchinson and his company were 
 appointed to possess and keep the fort at the 
 bridges, which he did ; and the next week the 
 garrison kept a day of solemn thanksgiving to 
 God for this success and the mercy in it, whereby 
 all their men were preserved, notwithstanding 
 their very bold adventures, so that not one of them 
 was slain, and but four of them wounded, whereof 
 three were so slightly hurt, that they returned 
 again next day into the field. To increase their 
 thanks to God, news was brought them that, 
 the same week, the forces that went out from 
 Newark joined with Henderson’s had received a 
 great overthrow by Cromwell, and my lord New¬ 
 castle had been forced to raise his siege of Hull 
 with great loss and dishonour. Some time after 
 the bridge was recovered, the horse went forth 
 and brought in some oxen of Mr. John Wood’s, a 
 justice of the county, disaffected to the parliament, 
 but not in action against them. He, following 
 his oxen, came to the governor, and, after he had 
 despatched his business, told him how Mr. Sutton 
 would have once employed him on a message, to 
 offer the governor any terms he would ask the 
 king, to come over to his side and deliver up the 
 castle to his use. Mr. Wood told him, such a 
 message might not obtain credit, unless he had 
 some propositions in writing; whereupon he called 
 for pen and ink, and wrote that he should offer the 
 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 governor, if he would resign his castle, not only 
 to be received into favour, but to have what 
 reward of honour, money, or command, himself 
 would propound; which paper, when Mr. Wood 
 had received, Sir Richard Biron came in, and 
 Mr. Sutton told him the business ; to which Sir 
 Richard answered he believed it would not take 
 effect, for he himself had made the like offers to 
 him, and been rejected* : which Mr. Wood hear¬ 
 ing, would not undertake the employment, but the 
 governor made him declare the story to two of the 
 gentlemen of the committee. 
 
 The governor not growing secure by successes, 
 was but stirred up to more active preparations for 
 the defence of the place he had undertaken; and 
 having a very ingenious person, Mr. Hooper, 
 who was his engineer, and one that understood all 
 kind of operations, in almost all things imagin¬ 
 able, they procured some saltpetre-men and other 
 necessary labourers, and set up the making of 
 powder and match in the castle, both which they 
 made very good; they also cast mortar pieces in 
 the town, and finished many other inventions for 
 the defence of the place. The governor also 
 caused a mount near the castle to be bulwarked, 
 and made a platform for ordnance, and raised a 
 new work before the castle gates to keep off 
 approaches, and made a new in-work in the fort 
 at the bridges. 
 
 Sir Thomas Fairfax, being overmastered in the 
 north by the Earl of Newcastle’s great army, 
 after his father was retired into Hull, came with 
 those horse that were left him into the Yale of 
 Belvoir, and so visited Nottingham castle, where 
 he and the commanders that were with him, con¬ 
 sidering of what advantage it was to the parlia¬ 
 ment to keep that place, by reason of the commo¬ 
 dious situation of it, and the pass which might be 
 there maintained between the north and south, 
 and the happy retreat it might afford to their 
 northern forces, he very much pressed the go¬ 
 vernor and the committee to raise all the force 
 they could, offering arms and commissions for 
 ! them: especially he pressed the governor to 
 complete a regiment for himself, which at that 
 time he would not accept, because Colonel Pierre- 
 pont had not yet declared what he would do with 
 his regiment. The Colonel was then at Derby, 
 whither some of his officers going to him to know 
 what they should do, he dismissed them; yet 
 coming to town, he gave out strange envious 
 whispers, and behaved himself so disingenuously 
 to the governor, that he had just cause to have 
 no more regard for him, and being again impor¬ 
 tuned by Sir Thomas Fairfax, he received a 
 commission* to raise a regiment of twelve hun¬ 
 dred. He presently recruited his own companies, 
 and began to raise more: Mr. George Hutchinson 
 was his lieutenant-colonel, and one Mr. Widmer- 
 poole his major; there was a company raised by 
 one Captain Wright; there remained a broken 
 piece of Col. Pierrepont’s company, and Captain 
 Poulton, who had been their captain-lieutenant, 
 being dismissed by the colonel, had a new com- 
 I mission under the governor for a company; when 
 those soldiers of Col. Pierrepont’s not knowing 
 what to do, it was determined at a council of 
 
 * This is the second instance of attempting Col. Hutchin¬ 
 son’s fidelity, but the most remarkable one will be found 
 ( in the sequel. 
 
 war of strangers, whereof Sir William Fairfax 
 was president, that they should list under Capt. 
 Poulton. Sir William and Sir Thomas Fairfax, 
 both of them, when the governor made scruple of 
 passing by Col. Pierrepont, assured him that they 
 had intelligence given them, in the north, of his 
 intention to deliver Nottingham to the king. 
 
 About this time, Chadwick, the deputy recorder 
 of Nottingham, and one of the committee, came 
 to Nottingham, from whence he went away, when 
 the soldiers were all drawn out, and all that were 
 fearful went to other places to secure themselves. 
 This fellow, being sent of a message to the Lord 
 Fairfax, general of the north, had received letters 
 of credence from the committee; but instead of 
 prosecuting their business, which was to have 
 procured some force from my lord, to help keep 
 the place, when my Lord Newcastle was daily 
 expected to come against it, he procured himself 
 a commission for a regiment, and a joint com¬ 
 mission for himself and Col. Pierrepont to be 
 governors of the town and castle. The last he 
 kept very private; the first he bragged of as a 
 thing, which my lord, considering his great 
 abilities, would needs enforce upon him. _ In exe¬ 
 cution of this, he raised seven men, which were 
 his menial servants, went into Staffordshire, pos¬ 
 sessed a papist’s fine house, and fired it to run 
 away by the light, when the enemy was thirty 
 miles off from it, and cheated the country of pay for 
 I know not how many hundred men: for which, if 
 he had not stolen away in the night, he had been 
 stoned ; and as his wife passed through the towns, 
 she was in danger of her life, the women flinging 
 scalding water after her. But before this, he 
 came to Nottingham at the time the governor 
 raised his regiment, and coming up to the castle, 
 behaved himself somewhat insolently, and cast 
 out mysterious words of his authority; the go¬ 
 vernor set on a person to find out his meaning, to 
 whom he showed a commission he had privately 
 obtained some four months before, for himself and 
 Col. Pierrepont to be joint governors of the 
 county, town, and castle; but neither now did he 
 declare this to any of the committee, but only 
 made some private brags in the town, that he 
 would shortly come and take order for the safety 
 of the place, and so went out of town again. 
 The governor acquainted the committee with this, 
 who seemed to have great indignation at it, and 
 wrote immediately to Mr. Millington, burgess 
 of the town of Nottingham, to have the govern¬ 
 ment of the castle confirmed on Col. Hutchinson 
 by authority of parliament. Mr. Salisbury, their 
 secretary, had also put in the government of the 
 town, but Col. Hutchinson caused him to put it 
 out; and the governor, being informed that Col. 
 Pierrepont, at London, was labouring to obtain a 
 regiment, and to be sent down as governor of the 
 town, for the more speedy despatch sent his own 
 chaplain with the committee’s letters to London, 
 and sent other letters of his own to Sir Thomas 
 Fairfax, to acquaint him how Chadwick had 
 abused my lord, his father, in the surreptitious 
 procurement of this dormant commission, which, 
 during all the time of danger, had lain asleep in 
 his pocket, and now was mentioned as a thing 
 whereby he might, when he would, take that place 
 out of Col. Hutchinson’s hands, which he had with 
 so many labours and dangers preserved, by God’s 
 
60 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 blessing, for the parliament’s service; he there¬ 
 fore desired a commission for the castle only. 
 
 As soon as Mr. Allsop came to London, he was 
 immediately despatched again to Nottingham, with 
 an order of parliament, dated November 20, 1643 
 for Col. Hutchinson to be governor both of the 
 town and castle of Nottingham, with an acknow¬ 
 ledgement of the good service he had done, in 
 preserving the place, and Mr. Millington said he 
 should likewise have a commission from the Earl 
 of Essex. At Leicester, Mr. Allsop met letters, 
 directed to the governor, from Sir Thomas Fairfax, 
 wherein was a commission enclosed from his father, 
 then general of all the north, for the government of 
 both the town and castle. These coming both 
 together, although the general and the parliament 
 had added the government of the town to that of 
 the castle, as more honour to him, Colonel Hut¬ 
 chinson was for many reasons much troubled at 
 it, among which these were some of his considera¬ 
 tions.—First, it was almost all malignants, there 
 being scarce a man left that was to be confided in, 
 except those who were already listed into the castle. 
 Secondly, they were not so much open professed 
 enemies, as close, hypocritical, false-hearted people, 
 amongst whom were some leading eminent men, 
 so subtle in their malignity, that though their 
 actions were most prejudicial to the public service, 
 yet did they cast such cunning specious pretences 
 over them of public good, that even the most up¬ 
 right men of the garrison were often seduced by 
 their fair colours. Thirdly, the most religious and 
 best people were so pragmatical, that no one act, 
 nor scarcely word, could pass without being 
 strictly arraigned and judged at the bar of every 
 common soldier’s discretion, and thereafter cen¬ 
 sured and exclaimed at. Fourthly, the townsmen 
 being such as had lived free and plentifully of 
 themselves,could not subject themselves to govern¬ 
 ment, but were so saucy, so negligent, and so mu¬ 
 tinous, that the most honourable person in the world 
 could expect nothing but scandal,reproach, and in¬ 
 gratitude for the payment of his greatest merit ; 
 and this the worthy governor found sufficiently from 
 them. Lastly, the few good men were so easily 
 blown up into causeless suspicions and jealousies, 
 and there were so many malignant whispers daily 
 spread abroad of every one in office, that it was 
 impossible for any man so worthily to demean 
 himself, but that a jealous misconstruction of 
 some inconsiderable trifle was enough to blast the 
 esteem of all his actions, though never so pious and 
 deserving ; and of all things in the world, nothing 
 was so contrary to the governor’s clear and gene- 
 10 us heart, as a base and causeless jealousy of 
 him. But notwithstanding these and many other 
 reasons, such as the unprofitable expense of his time, 
 estate, and labours, where he should reap neither 
 g ory nor advantage to himself, he considered, 
 that since he had rather declined than sought the 
 enlargement of his power and command, and that 
 the parliament and generals had, at such a distance, 
 been moved to put it, unsought for, upon him, it 
 was a work which God called him to, and that 
 the Lord, who set him into the employment, would 
 conquer all the difficulties. For the unjust 
 thoughts or reports of men or their ungrateful 
 returns, he was as much above the grief of that, 
 as the vain-glory of mutable popular applause! 
 
 It was m all things his endeavour to do and de¬ 
 
 serve well, and then he never regarded the praise 
 or dispraise of men, for he knew that it was im¬ 
 possible to keep on a constant career of virtue and 
 justice, and to please all. It sufficed him, for his 
 inward peace, that he did not thrust himself into 
 this and other employments for any popular, am¬ 
 bitious, or advantageous interest of his own, but 
 that he was called of God, to the carrying on of 
 the interest of truth, righteousness, and holiness, 
 ?”ir°, the defence of his country, wherein he was 
 faithful, and found the Lord’s protection and 
 glorious presence, not only in all he did, but in all 
 lie suffered for him and from him. 
 
 As soon as the governor had received his com¬ 
 mission, he thought it his duty to put it in execu- 
 tion and to arm and fortify the town ; but my 
 Lord Newcastle coming with all his forces into 
 .Nottingham and Derbyshire, the governor, by the 
 advice of the committee, forbore to publish his 
 new commissions, least the enemy, perceiving an 
 intent to enlarge the garrison, should utterly des¬ 
 troy the town, before they were able to defend it. 
 At the reading of his commission in the committee 
 chamber, Col. Thornhagh showed much discon¬ 
 tent, and was melancholy after it; whereupon 
 the governor told him, that as he had not sought 
 that enlargement of command, so if any of them 
 thought themselves abridged by it, or any other 
 inconvenience to the public service, he would 
 resign it, and never make use of his commission. 
 
 I he colonel answered, with much kindness, that 
 he only wondered how the town came to be added 
 when they only wrote for the castle, but he was well 
 satisfied with it, and forced himself to a seeming 
 content, though the truth is he had some emula^ 
 tion, but not malice, to the governor; and being 
 of a nature a little jealous and easy to be wrought 
 upon, the wicked enemies of the cause endeavour¬ 
 ed what they could to insinuate into him, and 
 work disaffection and division between these two 
 gentlemen, who were the most faithful, unbiassed, 
 and zealous champions of the public interest in 
 their country. But after Col. Thornhagh had been 
 wrought up to declare discontent, there were many 
 odd passages, by which others also of the committee, 
 who durst not before reveal their envious hearts, 
 showed themselves displeased ; whereupon, when 
 they were all together, the governor, who hated 
 secret heart-boilings, spoke to them, and told them, 
 that their carriages, since the commission came to 
 mm, did manifest their dissatisfaction in it, and if 
 they would deal ingenuously with him and let him 
 know it, as he had not sought the additional go¬ 
 vernment of the town, so he would never undertake 
 it, if they had any jealousies that, unknown to them, 
 he procured it for himself, and closely sought after 
 the enlargement of his own power by the abridge¬ 
 ment of theirs; he assured them he was much mis¬ 
 taken, and that neither to Mr. Millington, nor Sir 
 Thomas Fairfax, had he mentioned anything more 
 than the government of the castle ; for that of 
 the town he rejoiced not in it, but looked upon it 
 as a great burthen ; yet since it was conferred as 
 an honour upon him, he should not decline serving 
 them therein that had thought him worthy of it, 
 e ^ e P^ # g a ve distaste to any of those present; 
 which if it did, he would esteem it an obligation, 
 it they would but declare it before he published 
 ms commission. They all unanimously replied, 
 they were not only contented, but exceedingly well 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 61 
 
 pleased in it. Then the governor told them, if 
 they were real, as they professed, he should ex¬ 
 pect their ready and free concurrence with him 
 in all affairs tending to the public service, and in 
 those courses he should apply himself to, for the 
 good of the garrison : and again earnestly desired 
 them, if they had any dislikes, either of him per¬ 
 sonally, or of the alteration of the town out of the 
 hands it had been in the last year, that they would 
 now freely declare it; for as he should take it 
 (exceeding kindly of them, to do so at this time ; 
 so if, after he had undertaken the charge, there 
 should be any thwarting or crossing of powers and 
 commands between them, he should not bear it ; 
 for as he should not stand upon all punctual nice- 
 I ties in his command, so he would not be abridged 
 i of the just and lawful power due to him in his 
 | place. They 'all unanimously answered, it was 
 j very fit and just he should have it, and they would 
 | rather endeavour to uphold him in it, than any 
 I way to retrench it. , , 
 
 I Now was my lord Newcastle’s army come into 
 | Derbyshire, and having taken some places there, 
 i nothing was expected at Derby and Nottingham 
 but a siege ; whereupon Capt. Palmer’s troop was 
 called away from Broxtow, and all the rest of the 
 horse was sent away into Leicestershire, except a 
 few left for scouts, and as soon as they were gone 
 my Lord Newcastle’s forces came and quartered 
 almost at the town side, and in all the near towns, 
 and Hastings took this opportunity to make a 
 garrison at Wilden ferry * By the mercy of 
 God the enemy was restrained from coming up 
 to the town, though it lay so open that they might 
 have come in at their pleasure, and they not only 
 miserably wasted and plundered the country all 
 about, but one of them told a malignant, where 
 he quartered, that that was their design in com¬ 
 ing to those parts, to devour the country. The 
 regiments that were quartered the nearest to 
 Nottingham were Sir Marmaduke Langdale’s and 
 ! Col. Dacre’s, who had been a familiar acquaint- 
 
 I ance of Lieutenant-colonel Hutchinson’s when he 
 was in the north, and they loved each other as 
 well as if they had been brothers. Col. Dacre 
 ! sent a trumpet to desire Lieutenant-colonel Hut¬ 
 chinson to send him a safe convoy, that he might 
 i come and see him, which he acquainted the com¬ 
 mittee withal, and would have refused, but that 
 I the committee, thinking some good use might be 
 | made o it, persuaded him to suffer him to come ; 
 | accordingly he sent him a ticket under his hand, 
 j promising him to come and go safely ; so upon 
 i Thursday morning he came, with about eight 
 I more, to the top of the hill at Nottingham, and 
 
 j * Wilden Ferry was said before to be in the possession of 
 the king’s forces, but whether that was an anachronism, 
 
 I or that the thing now meant was an increase of the forti¬ 
 fications, and the placing a large number of men there, it 
 | is clear that the garrison of this place did after this period 
 1 become a greater annoyance to the parliament, and Lord 
 I Grey of Groby, who commanded in chief the associated 
 t forces of Leicester, Nottingham, &c., attacked and took it, 
 I assisted, as Whitelock says, p. 96, by Sir John Gell, who 
 contrived to get the thanks of the parliament for his ser¬ 
 vices herein, and for taking Winkfield manor and Shel- 
 ford manor; although, some time after, we find him 
 besieging Winkfield manor, in conjunction with Lord 
 Denbigh, and Shelford manor was not taken till more 
 than two years after by Col. Hutchinson, acting under the 
 command of Poyntz. 
 
 from thence sent his trumpet to the governor, as 
 not willing to trust himself without his leave, to 
 know whether he would permit him and his two 
 servants to come into his garrison to visit the 
 lieutenant-colonel. The governor sent him a 
 ticket for them to come in, and though usually 
 they kept no sentinels in the town, yet he sent 
 down some officers and soldiers to show him a 
 guard at his entrance. When the lieutenant- 
 colonel came to him, he made many endearing 
 expressions to him, how much he rejoiced when 
 his regiment was designed for that place where 
 he was, and how kind an affection he retained for 
 him, notwithstanding their contrary engagements. 
 Falling into further discourse of this, he said that 
 if he could but be convinced that the king first 
 entertained papists into his army, and that the 
 parliament had none in theirs, he would never 
 fight more on his side. The lieutenant-colonel 
 told him, he should easily be able to do that. 
 “Well,” said Dacre, “you and I must have some 
 discourse in private+, and I shall be glad if you 
 can satisfy me in that.” Then the colonel desired 
 some drink might be sent out to two or three gen¬ 
 tlemen, that staid for him upon the top of the 
 hill ; which the lieutenant-colonel hearing, sent 
 some of his own officers and soldiers on horse¬ 
 back, to fetch them down, who coming in ail 
 together with them, the town rose in an uproar 
 and came to the governor with a high complaint, 
 that I know not how many cavaliers were come 
 into the town, and rode up and down, armed, 
 threatening the people to their great terror. This 
 the governor thinking to be true, was vexed at it, 
 and sent down an angry letter to his brother, re¬ 
 quiring him to send up the men that came last 
 into the town. Col. Dacre hearing this, desired 
 the lieutenant-colonel that the gentlemen might 
 pass* as they came, and offered to go up himself 
 and answer for the offence they had given. But 
 the lieutenant-colonel presently carried them all 
 out of town, and came himself up to the castle, 
 taking it something unkindly that his brother 
 should write such a letter to him, and worse that 
 others should have suspicions of him ; so that 
 though he had made a promise to dine the Satur¬ 
 day following at Dacre’s quarters, yet, to take 
 away all offence and suspicions, he resolved he 
 would have no more meetings with him, and to 
 that end writ him a very civil letter to excuse 
 him not coming ; and the governor writ another 
 to excuse the mistake, whereupon the gentlemen 
 were sent for to the castle. Dacre returned com- 
 plimental answers to them both, and writ another 
 to Capt. Poulton, entreating very earnestly the 
 lieutenant-colonel and Capt. Poulton to come and 
 dine with him on Wednesday, and desiring the 
 governor he might have the honour to see him. 
 These letters being communicated to the com¬ 
 mittee, they would fain have had the lieutenant- 
 colonel to have gone, but he held firm to his reso¬ 
 lution and would not; so with their privity Capt. 
 
 f Though this may appear somewhat improbable in a 
 time when religious opinions have so little effect upon 
 political ones, it was otherwise considered at that time; 
 for nearly at this same juncture it is to be seen, in White- 
 lock, page 81, that Sir E. Deering did on this very account 
 of there being so many papists and Irish rebels entertained 
 in the king’s army, quit him and come into the parliament, 
 1 who admitted him to composition, being the first. 
 
62_ MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 Poulton only went to excuse it, and two of White’s 
 officers were sent along with him, with charge, if 
 they could, to find out how the enemy lay. When 
 Capt. Poulton came, the colonel entertained him 
 very kindly, and expressed a great deal of trouble 
 that the lieutenant-colonel was not come, and took 
 him aside and told him that the governor of Not¬ 
 tingham and his brother had now an opportunity 
 whereby they might much advantage themselves, 
 and do the king excellent service. Capt. Poulton 
 asking him how, he said, if the governor would 
 deliver up the castle, he should be received into 
 favour, have the castle confirmed to him and his 
 heirs, have ten thousand pounds in money, and be 
 made the best lord in the country. If the lieute¬ 
 nant-colonel would deliver up the bridges, he 
 should have three thousand pounds and what 
 command he would ask in the army ; and offered 
 Capt. Poulton two thousand pounds to effect this. 
 The captain told him, for his own part nothing 
 should buy him to such a villany, and he believed 
 the same of the governor and his brother, and 
 made no question but they had before been at¬ 
 tempted. The colonel told him he did not this 
 without authority, and thereupon pulled a paper 
 out of his pocket, wherein were words to this 
 effect : “ These are to authorise Col. Dacre to 
 treat with Col. Hutchinson and Lieutenant-colonel 
 Hutchinson for the delivery of Nottingham-castle 
 and the bridges, and to make them large promises, 
 which shall be performed by W. Newcastle .” 
 Having showed him this warrant, the colonel was 
 very importunate with the captain to acquaint the 
 governor and his brother, and return their answer 
 to him upon the Friday after, when he offered to 
 meet him, if they would, at a place called St. Ann’s 
 Well. Capt. Poulton told the governor and his 
 brother, and they the committee, and showed 
 them very disdainful refusals they all had written 
 to the colonel, and sent him by a drum, who was 
 not long gone out of the garrison but another 
 came from Col. Dacre with a letter to Capt. 
 Poulton, excusing himself that he could not stay 
 in his quarters for him, according to appointment, 
 but assuring him that what he had promised 
 should .be really performed. The governor’s 
 drum, in the absence of Col. Dacre, delivered 
 the three letters to Langdale, who writ them 
 back a good civil letter, that he believed my Lord 
 Newcastle and Dacre, out of familiarity and ac¬ 
 quaintance with them, might have made these 
 offers in kindness to them, but for his part he 
 should otherwise pursue the king’s service*. 
 
 After this, the weather being pretty fair, and 
 the moon shining at that time, the governor sent 
 out a foot company to beat up their quarters, and 
 gave them a fierce alarum throughout, and took 
 twelve horses out of one of their stables, which 
 they sent home. In their retu rn, meeting a great 
 
 * This proposal for betraying the castle, together with 
 the refusal, is mentioned by Whiteloek, p. 79. Mr. Noble, 
 who is mentioned in the preface as having published the 
 lives of one hundred and thirty-six regicides, makes this 
 remark, “ that Col. Hutchinson hereby lost a fine oppor¬ 
 tunity of aggrandising himself and his family, which 
 doubtless they must regret.” That very discerning gen¬ 
 tleman is here informed that the Editor of this work, who 
 is the only representative of Col. Hutchinson in these 
 kingdoms, is much more proud of counting amongst his 
 ancestors so firm and faithful a patriot than the most 
 illustrious of traitors. 
 
 body of horse, they all at once discharged upon 
 them, and killed some eight of them, as we were 
 told in the morning. After this charge the horse 
 immediately retreated and would not stand another, 
 and the next day removed their quarters further 
 from the garrison. Then the governor and com¬ 
 mittee sent for the Nottingham horse back from 
 Leicester, and appointed them to bring five hundred 
 muskets which were come to Leicester for the 
 governor. They came, but left the arms behind 
 them. Besides this the colonel and all his regiment 
 fell into disputes, that the governors of the parlia¬ 
 ment garrisons had no command of the horse that 
 were quartered in their towns j and hereupon the 
 governor was often prevented of many opportuni¬ 
 ties advantageous to the public service, and much 
 discouraged to find such obstructions from the 
 envious pride and humour of those who should 
 have been his assistants ; but he bore with it as 
 long as only himself suffered by it, and was willing 
 for quietness’ sake to pass by many injuries offered 
 himself, till the public service came to be infinitely 
 prejudiced by it. In the meantime he went on, 
 as. well as he could, through all difficulties, in the 
 faithful and active discharge of his trust. He 
 called a committee and council of war, where it 
 was put to the question and voted that the town 
 should be fortified : then he applied himself to the 
 thing, and called a full Hall of all the town, who 
 declared sufficiently their disaffection to the par¬ 
 liament, but in such a subtle way as would have 
 entrapped a less prudent person: but the governor 
 overlooked many things that he saw, and made 
 use of all the advantages they gave him, and did 
 not manifest his resentments of anything which 
 they could cloak under a specious pretence, how 
 disadvantageous^ soever it were designed against 
 the parliament interest. The whole town unani¬ 
 mously voted that the place should be fortified, 
 except Alderman Drury, and two or three that 
 followed him : then the governor gave them en¬ 
 couraging promises of his protection and care over 
 them, and endeavours to preserve them with his 
 regiment, if they would assist in their own defence. 
 The town being well satisfied, or at least seeming 
 so, (for he treated them with that dexterity that 
 they could not, for shame, openly oppose him, 
 though he was not ignorant that the cavalier party 
 cursed him in their hearts, as the only obstacle in 
 their greater desire of having declared themselves ! 
 on the other side,) with general outward cheerful¬ 
 ness, in Christmas week, the works were begun. 
 About this time Sir Thomas Fairfax being to march 
 into Staffordshire, sent for some arms he had left j 
 in Nottingham castle, and by the same convoy that j 
 went with them the governor got his five hundred 
 muskets brought home from Leicester. Sir Thomas 
 sent orders to the governor to send him all the horse 
 in the garrison ; but when the governor acquainted j 
 them with it, they would none of them obey him 
 and go, though Sir Thomas sent twice very earnestly 
 for them, but staid in Nottingham, where they j 
 would obey no order of the governor’s, and by 
 doing things that concerned the garrison without j 
 and against his orders, they made a sad confusion 
 and thwarting of powers, which the governor bore 
 with in respect to Col. Thornhagh, who did things 
 not so much out of malice in himself, as out of a 
 little emulation, which did not destroy his kind- j 
 ness to the governor, and by the subtle instigation 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 [i of Captain White, who wrought upon his facility 
 to do those things which his malice and factious 
 ambition prompted him to wish, but he durst not 
 himself attempt. Although the horse would not 
 i obey Sir Thomas Fairfax, it was not out of 
 cowardice, for the men were very stout and 
 i cheerful in the service, but only had the general 
 fault of all the parliament party, that they were not 
 very obedient to commands, except they knew and 
 approved their employment : they had no sooner 
 refused Sir Thomas, but my Lord Grey sending 
 for two troops, they went to him to Melton, which 
 he had begun to fortify. The governor, notwith¬ 
 standing these obstacles from secret enemies and 
 i refractory friends, carried on his business with 
 Ir) good success, and had many events 'according to 
 4 his endeavours. Among the rest his men encoun- 
 i tering a party where Col. Frecheville and Sir 
 \i Henry Humlack were in person, fought them, 
 killed many of their men, and took Frecheville 
 1 prisoner ; but his captain-lieutenant Jammot came 
 to his rescue and freed him, though himself was 
 i, taken in his stead and brought to Nottingham. 
 
 Here, after he had been sometime kept, he cor- 
 | rupted a soldier, who disguised and led him out, 
 j and went away with him. The man being a 
 i Frenchman, and a proper black man, some would 
 Lt needs report him to be Prince Rupert, and there¬ 
 upon raised a great clamour at the governor. 
 
 But before his escape, upon the fifteenth of 
 January, intelligence was brought that all the 
 ■ forces in Newark were marched on a design upon 
 : Sleeford in Lincolnshire. The governor not trust- 
 i ing that pretence, commanded all the soldiers and 
 i townsmen to sit up that night and expect them ; 
 
 and the next morning, being Tuesday, two of his 
 ! intelligencers came and brought him word very 
 early that the design was against Nottingham. 
 
 . After them the horse scouts came in with the 
 news of their approach, the enemy’s scouts and 
 they having fired upon each other. Hereupon a 
 j strong alarum was given throughout the garrison, 
 
 < and a foot company sent down from the castle to 
 . the works, and the horse were there set with 
 them to dispute the enemy’s entrance into the 
 town ; but the horse perceiving the enemy’s body 
 to be a great one, retreated to the castle, and the 
 foot seeing them gone, and none of the townsmen 
 come forth to their assistance, made also an orderly 
 ; retreat back to the castle, in which there was not 
 a man lost or wounded. The works being im¬ 
 perfect and quitted, were easily entered, though 
 the cannon that played upon them from the castle 
 took off wholly the second file of musketeers that 
 entered the gates. The first was led up by Lieut. 
 Col. Cartwright, who two days before had sent to 
 the governor for a protection to come in and lay 
 down arms. The enemy being entered, possessed 
 themselves of St. Peter’s Church and certain 
 houses near the castle, from whence they shot 
 into the castle yard and wounded one man and 
 killed another, which was all the hurt that was 
 
 I done our men that day. 
 
 The governor was very angry with the horse 
 for coming up so suddenly, and stirred them up to 
 such a generous shame, that they dismounted, and 
 all took muskets to serve as foot, with which 
 they did so very good service, that they exceeding 
 well regained their reputations. Having taken 
 foot arms, the governor sent one of his own com¬ 
 
 G3 
 
 panies with part of them, and they beat the cava¬ 
 liers out of the nearest lanes and houses, which 
 they had possessed, and so made a safe way for 
 the rest to sally out and retreat, as there should 
 be occasion. 
 
 When this was done, which was about noon, the 
 governor sent out all the rest of the horse and 
 foot to beat them out of the town. Sir Charles 
 Lucas, who was the chief commander of all the 
 forces there, had prepared a letter to send up to 
 the governor to demand of him the castle ; or if 
 he would not deliver it, that then he should send 
 down the mayor and aldermen, threatening that, 
 if they came not immediately, he would sack and 
 burn the town. There were, at that time, above 
 a thousand cavaliers in the town, and as many in 
 a body without the town, to have beaten off Derby 
 and Leicester forces, if they should have made 
 any attempt to come in to the assistance of their 
 friends in Nottingham. On the other side the 
 Trent, were all the forces Mr. Hastings could 
 bring out from his own garrison and Belvoir and 
 Wiverton, to force the bridges. All the cavalier 
 forces, that were about the town, were about three 
 thousand. When Sir Charles Lucas had written 
 his letter, he could find none that would undertake 
 to carry it to the castle, whereupon they took the 
 mayor’s wife, and, with threats, compelled her to 
 undertake it; but just as she went out of the 
 house from them, she heard an outcry, that “’the 
 roundheads were sallying forth,” whereupon she 
 flung down their letter and ran away ; and they 
 ran as fast from four hundred soldiers, who came 
 furiously upon them out of the castle, and surprised 
 them, while they were secure the castle would not 
 have made so bold an attempt. But the governor’s 
 men chased them from street to street, till they 
 had cleared the town of them, who run away 
 confusedly ; the first that went out shot their 
 pistols into the thatched houses to have fired them, 
 but by the mercy of God neither that, nor other 
 endeavours they showed to have fired the town, as 
 they were commanded, took effect. Between thirty 
 and forty of them were killed in the streets, four¬ 
 score were taken prisoners, and abundance of 
 arms were gathered up, which the men flung away 
 in haste, as they ran ; but they put some fire into 
 a hay barn and hay mows, and all other combus¬ 
 tible things they could discern in their haste, but 
 by ^God’s mercy the town notwithstanding was 
 preserved from burning. Their horse faced the 
 town in a valley where their reserve stood, while 
 their foot marched away, till towards evening, 
 and then they all drew off. Many of them died in 
 their return, and were found dead in the woods and 
 in the towns they passed through. Many of them, 
 discouraged with this service, ran away, and many 
 of their horses were quite spoiled : for two miles 
 they left a great track of blood, which froze as it 
 fell upon the snow, for it was such bitter weather 
 that the foot had waded almost to the middle in 
 snow as they came, and were so numbed with cold 
 when they came into the town, that they were 
 fain to be rubbed to get life in them, and in that 
 condition, were more eager of fires and warm 
 meat than of plunder, which saved many men’s 
 goods, and their security that did not believe an 
 enemy who had unhandsomely, to speak truth, 
 suffered them to enter the town without any dis- ! 
 pute, would have durst, at such great odds, to I 
 
64 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 have set upon driving them out. Indeed no one 
 can believe, but those that saw that day, what a 
 strange ebb and flow of courage and cowardice 
 there was in both parties that day. The cavaliers 
 marched in with such terror to the garrison, and 
 such gallantry, that they startled not when one of 
 their leading files fell before them all at once, but 
 marched boldly over the dead bodies of their 
 friends, under their enemies’ cannon, and carried 
 such valiant dreadfulness about them, as made 
 very courageous stout men recoil. Our horse, 
 who ran away frighted at the sight of their foes, 
 when they had breast-works before them, and the 
 advantage of freshness to beat back assailants 
 already vanquished with the sharpness of the cold 
 and a killing march, within three or four hours, 
 as men that thought nothing too great for them, 
 returned fiercely upon the same men, after their 
 refreshment, when they were entered into defen¬ 
 sible houses. If it were a romance, one should 
 say after the success, that the heroes did it out of 
 excess of gallantry, that they might the better 
 signalise their valour upon a foe who was not 
 vanquished to their hands by the inclemency of 
 the season : but we are relating wonders of Pro¬ 
 vidence, and must record this as such a one as is 
 not to be conceived, but by those who saw and 
 shared in it ; it was indeed a great instruction, 
 that the best and highest courages are but the 
 beams of the Almighty ; and when he withholds 
 his influence, the brave turn cowards, fear un¬ 
 nerves the most mighty, makes the most generous 
 base, and great men to do those things they blush 
 to think on ; when God again inspires, the fearful 
 and the feeble see no dangers, believe no difficulties, 
 and carry on attempts whose very thoughts would, 
 at another time, shiver their joints like agues. 
 The events of this day humbled the pride of many 
 of our stout men, and made them after more care¬ 
 fully seek God, as well to inspire as prosper their 
 valour ; and the governor’s handsome reproaches 
 of their faults, with showing them the way to 
 repair, retrieved their straggling spirits, and ani¬ 
 mated them to very wonderful and commendable 
 actions. 
 
 The governor would not let his men pursue the 
 rear, but thought they might, in the night, have 
 completed their day’s work, if they had fallen into 
 the enemy’s quarters, which he gave orders to 
 the horse to do ; but Colonel Thornhagh would not 
 obey them, because they came from him, and so 
 lost a great opportunity, and contented himself 
 with praising God for the great deliverance of the 
 day, wherein there was not one townsman that 
 came in to the assistance of the soldiers. 
 
 The next day, the governor called the town 
 together, represented to them the mercy of God 
 and the malice of their enemies, who, without 
 regard of any friends they had among them, came 
 purposely to fire the town, which God alone pre¬ 
 served, who having showed them their danger, 
 required they should be no longer slothful in their 
 own defence, but to take arms to preserve their 
 families and houses. He propounded to them, 
 that if they would so do, they should choose their 
 own captains. They, considering the just reasons 
 and motives with which he urged them, at length 
 resolved to join in their own defence, and chose 
 four captains ; but the captains refusing, the sol¬ 
 diers that day went home unlisted, yet by the 
 
 governor’s dexterity in managing them, he at last 
 brought four hundred, whereof more than half 
 were high malignants, to list themselves under one 
 Mr. Coates, a minister, an honest godly man.* 
 and Mr. Mason, f an attorney, a great cavalier, 
 but a reserved silent man, who, for an austere 
 knit of his brow, and a grave severe countenance, 
 had the reputation of a wise man, but was known 
 to be disaffected to the parliament, though cunning 
 enough not to do anything that might expose him 
 to sequestration. Into these men’s hands he put 
 arms, and so ordered them, that at the last they 
 grew fiercer in the service than those who were 
 uprightly honest. 
 
 The next month the Lord Chaworth sent a letter 
 to the governor, acquainting him that he was sick, 
 and desired a protection to come and remain at 
 his own house, in order to making his peace with 
 the parliament, which protection the governor 
 gave him. 
 
 The governor had acquainted the parliament 
 with the late successes, whereupon they ordered a 
 thousand pounds to be sent to the garrison out of 
 the sequestrations of London, and the excise of 
 the town to go to the payment of the garrison ; 
 but through Mr. Millington’s negligent prosecution, 
 the thousand pounds never came.J 
 
 The governor went on again successfully in his 
 employment, and began to endear himself to all 
 the town as well as the soldiery, which awakening 
 White’s sleeping envy, he cast new plots to disturb 
 him; and first made a motion to send to London 
 for two hundred soldiers : to which the governor 
 answered—If they were honest, there were men 
 enough to keep the garrison; if they were not, to 
 call in other forces was but to bait their treachery 
 with a greater prize ; and that to send for more 
 force, while they had so slender maintenance for 
 these, was to increase trouble without any benefit. 
 
 The same afternoon the committee sent the 
 governor a warrant to be signed, which was before 
 subscribed by four of them, White in the front. 
 The warrant was to this effect: 
 
 “ TO MR. HOOPER, 
 
 “Engineer of the Garrison of Nottingham. 
 
 “ You are hereby required to make your 
 present appearance to this committee, there to give 
 an account what you have done about the works 
 of the town, and how far you have proceeded in 
 them ; how, and in what manner, and by what 
 time you intend to finish them ; and what mate¬ 
 rials are needful for the finishing of them, there 
 being imminent danger to the garrison.” 
 
 As soon as the governor received the warrant 
 he took the engineer with him, and went to the 
 committee, to whom, said he, “ Gentlemen, I re¬ 
 ceived just now such a strange warrant from you, 
 
 * It appears from this that Mr. Palmer, mentioned 
 before, and who will be mentioned more than once in the 
 sequel, was not quite singular in taking up arms, notwith¬ 
 standing his function. The famous preacher Hugh Peters, 
 acted as an officer of horse. It was in those days common 
 to quote the expression, that the saints should have the 
 praises of God in their mouths, and a two-edged sword 
 in their hands! 
 
 fThe same whom, when put into confinement at the 
 castle, the governor invited to his table. 
 
 t Mentioned by Whitelock as given. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 (>5 
 
 chat I can impute it to nothing but a picked occa¬ 
 sion of quarrel. If you desire to question anything 
 in the fortifying of the town, I have not only 
 brought the engineer, but am here myself to 
 answer it: if there be money in his hands, let him 
 give you an account of it; but concerning the for¬ 
 tifications, I conceive he is only to be accountable 
 to me; therefore, why this warrant should be made 
 I cannot tell, unless purposely to affront me ; as 
 for that imminent danger you pretend, it is utterly 
 unknown to me, and if there be any, I ought to 
 have been acquainted with it, and desire now to 
 understand it.” They answered, “ Were they not 
 in daily peril ? ” He replied', “ That was certain, 
 but at this time none more imminent than usually, 
 that he knew of ; and further desired them, if-he 
 had been negligent of those things, which conduced 
 to the safety of the town, that they would article 
 against him whatever they could accuse him of ; 
 if he had done nothing worthy of blame, he took 
 it exceeding ill, to be thus thwarted and affronted 
 in his just and lawful command.” Upon replies 
 and debate, White said, “ If Hooper did not ren¬ 
 der them an account of his works, they would clap 
 him by the heels.” Whereupon the governor, 
 addressing to him only, told him, u That from the 
 first opening of his commission, he had manifested 
 I his discontent, and that he had taken notice of his 
 secret endeavours to oppose, and was glad the 
 j humour was now so ripe as to vent itself; that for 
 I the time to come, since he saw his condescensions 
 did but encourage them to wrest all things from him, 
 and to question all his dues, he would now expect 
 that full observance from them all, that was due 
 from the officers of a garrison to the governor; that he 
 expected the horse should receive orders from him, 
 and that he would no longer put up with such af¬ 
 fronts and neglects as he had that vei*y day received ; 
 when calling for a muster of the horse to have been 
 sent out upon a very advantageous design, a whole 
 j troop, unknown to him, was, by the committee, 
 sent out for hay, whereby that oppoi'tunity was 
 lost he told them further, “ protections charging 
 officers and soldiers to forbear plunder, ought to 
 be given only by him upon their certificate, and 
 not by them; and,” said he, “gentlemen, I 
 received that affront from you lately, which no 
 governor in the world, but myself, would have 
 put up with ; when at a public council of war, 
 among all the officers, enough to have caused a 
 mutiny, it was propounded how far my command 
 extended, and questioned whether I could com¬ 
 mand horse in the garrison. And all of you, at 
 a council of war, ordered the booty taken should 
 be at the disposal of the chief officer that went 
 out; so that if a corporal went out, he must dis¬ 
 pose of the booty, which in all garrisons is the go¬ 
 vernor’s right to do.” 
 
 While they were in this dispute, the lieutenant- 
 colonel came in, and seconded his brother ; and 
 after some smart disputes on both sides, they 
 parted for that night. 
 
 The next morning the committee sent for the 
 I governor, who coming to them, one of them drew 
 a paper out of his pocket, and offered some pro¬ 
 positions to the governor ; which were, first, that 
 the dispute between them might be silenced and 
 kept private ; next, that he would join with them 
 in a letter to Mr. Millington, to desire him to get 
 1 the question decided by the close committee,— 
 
 What were the several powers of a governor, and 
 a committee ? and, lastly, that he would draw 
 up what he conceived his power to be. To this 
 the governor replied, that for silencing the thing, 
 he was very willing to do it; for sending to the 
 close committee, he very well understood his own 
 power, and if they questioned it, they might send 
 whither they pleased, to satisfy themselves ; for 
 setting down the particulars wherein he conceived 
 his power to consist, when he did anything which 
 they thought belonged not to him, let them call 
 him to question where they pleased, and he should 
 be ready to give an account of his actions, but he 
 would not make himself so I’idiculous, as to send 
 for satisfaction in unquestionable things ; yet to 
 inform them, if any of them pleased, he would go 
 along with them, either to my Lord of Essex, or 
 my lord Fairfax, to have the power of a governor 
 decided. They told him the generals understood 
 not the power of a committee as the parliament, 
 and therefore writ a letter to Mr. Millington with 
 extraordinary commendations of the governor, yet 
 desiring to know the extent of his power, and 
 showed it to him. He told them, if they believed 
 those things they writ of him, he wondered whence 
 all this discontent should arise, for he appealed to 
 them all, whether, ever since he undertook the 
 government, he had usurped any command over 
 them, or done so much as the least inconsiderable 
 act without acquainting them, and receiving their 
 approbation ; and what should ail them he could 
 not imagine, unless they were discontented at his 
 being made governor ; which, if they were, they 
 might thank themselves, who put it upon him, 
 when he received nothing but trouble, expense, 
 and danger in it. They all acknowledged his ap¬ 
 peal true, and said they had desired his establish¬ 
 ment in the government of the castle, as the man 
 they esteemed most worthy of it and most fit for 
 it. He told them, if the addition of the town 
 grieved them, that was to be transferred on the 
 parliament, who without his seeking had added 
 that to him. One of them replied, they had so 
 worthy an opinion of him, that they wished the 
 assessing of the country, too, might be only put into 
 his power. He said he should have been obliged 
 to them had this proceeded from anything but 
 discontent, and that if without his own seeking lie 
 should be honoured with that trust, as he was with 
 this, he should endeavour to discharge it faithfully ; 
 but he rather desired it might continue in the 
 hands it was, and if he were negligent to fetch in 
 those assessments which were given him, then let 
 the blame lie on him ; but for rating and assess¬ 
 ing the towns, those who were acquainted with 
 the country were fittest for it: and thus for the 
 present it rested. 
 
 The design they prevented by sending out the 
 troop unknown to him was the saving the town of 
 Southwell from being made a garrison for the 
 king; which the town being unwilling to, sent 
 word to the governor, that if he would come and 
 assist them, they would join with him to beat out 
 some soldiers that had intent to fortify themselves 
 there ; but the horse, by reason of their employ¬ 
 ment, failing those two days, and extraordinary ill 
 weather coming after, that opportunity was lost: 
 this was about the middle of February. Capt. 
 White continued still afterwards to prevent all de¬ 
 signs, whose events might any way have conduced 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 I 66 
 
 to the governor’s honour, not weighing what 
 hindrance it was to the public service, which was 
 a great vexation to the governor; but his courage 
 was above their malice, and his zeal to the service 
 carried him vigorously on, in all things which he 
 could accomplish by his own officers and soldiers, 
 who were more obedient to him; and, although 
 j this was the exercise of his patience, yet was it 
 i also a spur to his diligence, and made his fidelity 
 more illustrious, and kept him more in waiting 
 j upon God, and more strict in the watch over all 
 j his actions, because he knew how all his enemies 
 watched for his fall. 
 
 Upon the 11th of February, Cornet Palmer, 
 who had been prisoner at Newark, came home 
 and told the governor that he had discovered in 
 his prison a design intended about this time to 
 surprise the bridge by Hacker’s soldiers, who were 
 to come in the habit of market people the next 
 Saturday. This intelligence was seconded, where¬ 
 upon the governor sent his officers to command 
 all the bridge soldiers to keep in their quarters 
 that day: he commanded also all the horse in the 
 town to be ready to go out upon the first sound of 
 the trumpet, and gave orders for all the drums in 
 the garrison to beat betimes in the morning; the 
 lieutenant-colonel set out a guard beyond the 
 bridge, with charge strictly to examine all pas- 
 I sengers. About eleven of the clock on Saturdajq 
 the 17th of February, they took twelve of them* 
 upon the bridges,'disguised like market men and 
 women, with pistols, long knives, hatchets, daggers, 
 and great pieces of iron about them ; whereupon 
 they sent and acquainted the governor, who being 
 himself on horseback at the works, went imme¬ 
 diately down to the bridge, and commanded all 
 j the horse to come away and pursue them, but the 
 j horse commanders, being always slow in obeying 
 I his commands, came not till the enemy’s foot 
 beyond the bridge, perceiving their fellows were 
 taken upon the bridge, retired and got safe off, 
 only nine who were to have assassinated those at 
 the bridge, and advanced forwarder than the rest 
 for that purpose, were overtaken, and with their 
 captain leaped into the Trent to have saved them¬ 
 selves, of whom our men plucked four out of the 
 water, five were drowned, and the captain swam 
 to shore on the other side. The governor was in 
 doubt whether these men taken in disguises were 
 to be released as prisoners of war, or executed as 
 spies and assassins by martial law; but though he 
 had not cared if the bridge-soldiers had turned 
 them into the Trent when they took them, he 
 afterwards released them all upon exchange, ex¬ 
 cept one Slater, a soldier of his own that had run 
 away to the enemy, and this day was taken coming 
 into the town, with a monterof pulled close about 
 his face, but denied that he was of the design; 
 yet after, upon trial at a court-martial, he was 
 condemned and executed. The governor had sent 
 out some horse and foot to drive the grounds at 
 the enemy’s garrison at Shelford, which they did, 
 and from under the very works from which the 
 enemy shot at them, brought away many beasts 
 and horses that belonged to the garrison, and 
 brought them up into the castle-yard. The go¬ 
 vernor being then in the committee chamber, told 
 them it was fit the soldiers should have a reward, 
 
 * Hacker’s soldiers. t A kind of cap so called. 
 
 whereupon it was ordered to give them six pounds, 
 and the governor told the soldiers the committee I 
 had assigned them a reward; but when they came ' 
 to receive it, Salisbury, the treasurer, tithed it out, 
 and gave the soldiers groats apiece, and sixpence 
 apiece to the officers, which in all came but to 
 forty shillings and odd money; which the soldiers, 
 being mad at, flung back his money, and desired a 
 council of war, to do them right; which the 
 governor assented to, and the next day the busi¬ 
 ness being heard at a full council of all the officers 
 of the garrison, it was determined by the unani¬ 
 mous vote of all but Mr. Salisbury, that in regard 
 the enemy shot at them when they took the ! 
 booty, it did of right belong to the soldiers that 
 fought for it, and so they had it; whereupon 
 Salisbury flung away from the board in a great 
 huff and muttering, for which the governor re¬ 
 buked him, and told him such carriage ought not 
 to be suffered in him, who, as an officer, ought to | 
 have more respect to the place and them that I 
 sat there. After this, about eighteen of the 
 lieutenant-colonel’s men went out and met twenty- 
 five men in arms ; between them there was a I 
 brook, the bridge men called to them and asked | 
 of what side they were, and perceiving they were 
 cavaliers, told them, after some little defies between 
 them, that though the number was unequal, they 
 would fight with them; and passing over the 
 brook, charged them, put them to flight, killed 
 two of them, took eight prisoners and twelve of 
 their horses. Upon examination they were found 
 to be northern gentlemen, who having listed 
 themselves in the prince’s own troop, after the 
 death of Sir Thomas Biron that commanded under 
 the prince, were assigned to my Lord Wentworth, 
 at which being discontented, they were now re- j 
 turning into their own country, being almost all | 
 of them gentlemen. Sir Richard Biron, for his 
 brother’s memory, exchanged them for prisoners I 
 of Nottingham, taken when the town was first I 
 surprised. 
 
 In the end of this month, on the fast-day, the 
 national covenant was taken, with a great solem- 
 nity, both by the soldiers and inhabitants, men ! 
 and women, of the garrison. This day, unex- I 
 pectedly came Sir Edward Hartup, with a thou- ! 
 sand horse of Leicester and Derby, to which the j 
 governor added between five and six hundred ; 
 Sir Edward being appointed to command the I 
 party, should have gone with them to take Mus- » 
 cam bridges, at Newark, before which place Sir | 
 John Meldrum was now come, with about seven 'll 
 thousand men, and had laid siege to it. The 
 horse of Newark, as soon as the parliament’s 
 forces came, made an escape over Muscam bridge, I 
 which Sir Edward Hartup, having more mind to } 
 drink than fight, lingering a day at Nottingham, j 
 and then marching to no purpose against it, lost 
 his opportunity of taking; yet God, by a provi¬ 
 dence, gave it up with 200 men that kept it to the 
 parliament’s forces, who had they then pursued 
 their success, they might have carried the town j 
 too, but it was not God’s time then to deliver the ! 
 country of that pernicious enemy. The horse | 
 that were escaped out of Newark, went into all 
 their garrisons in the Vale and Derbyshire, and 
 gathered up all the force they could make, to j' 
 about the number of two thousand, and with 
 these they came and quartered near Nottingham; j'| 
 
: 
 
 themselves and the country giving out that they 
 were about four thousand. 
 
 There was a fast kept at Nottingham, to seek 
 God for his presence with our armies ; and before 
 the first sermon was ended, the enemy’s horse 
 i came to the town-side and gave a strong alarum, 
 
 ; and continued facing the town till night, at which 
 » time they returned to their quarters, and those 
 horse that were in the garrison following their 
 rear, gleaned up two lieutenants and two or three 
 - other officers : the next day the body marched just 
 by the town-side, and so passed over the river at 
 Wilden Ferry. After they were gone from about 
 Nottingham, the governor went down to the 
 Leaguer, at Newark, where Sir John Meldrum had 
 made all things ready for a general assault of the 
 town; but at a council of war that was called in 
 the field, it was determined that it should not then 
 be, whereupon the governor of Nottingham re¬ 
 turned to his garrison; who coming to take his 
 1 leave of Sir John Meldrum, Sir John entreated 
 I him that he would return again and be among 
 them as much as he could, making a sad complaint 
 of the envying, heart-burnings, and dissentions 
 that were among the several commanders, so that 
 he had much ado to hold them together, and had 
 great need of men of moderation and prudence to 
 assist him, and to help to mediate among them. 
 The forces that Sir John Meldrum commanded 
 before this town, were gathered out of several 
 associated counties, and the commanders so emu¬ 
 lous of one another, and so refractory to com¬ 
 mands, and so piquing in all punctilios of supe¬ 
 riority, that it galled the poor old gentleman to 
 the heai’t, who, having commanded abroad, and 
 been used to deal with officers that understood 
 I the discipline of war, was confounded among 
 those who knew not how to obey any orders, but 
 j disputed all his commands, and lost their time 
 1 and honour in a fruitless expedition, through their 
 • vain contentions; whereas had they joined in the 
 assault then, when he would have made it, they 
 might probably have canned the town, but missing 
 that opportunity, they came off at last with loss 
 and dishonour. While the governor was at the 
 Leaguer, Sir John Meldrum told him, that Col. 
 Pierrepont had been with him to get his hand to 
 a paper, which should have testified, that the 
 government of Nottingham did of right belong to 
 him; but Sir John answered he could not testify 
 any such thing, for it was his own act to confer 
 that government, where now it was; with which 
 Col. Pierrepont seemed very well satisfied at that 
 time. When he could not prevail in this, he 
 desired Sir John to set his hand to another paper, 
 which should have certified, that in all things he 
 had approved himself most firm and faithful to 
 the service of the parliament. Sir John said 
 he would not injure him so much as to make any 
 such certificate of a thing not called into question; 
 but if there should be any doubt of it, he should 
 be ready to do him all right. Col. Pierrepont, 
 moreover, went to the governor’s soldiers, that 
 had formerly been of his regiment, and giving 
 them twenty shillings to drink, told them he was 
 to be governor of the town, and would shortly 
 come among them. 
 
 Sir Edward Hartup was sent with the party of 
 horse he before had at Muscam bridge, to pursue 
 those that were gone out of Newark, and fight 
 
 67 I 
 
 with them, and hinder their joining with Prince 
 Rupert, who was expected to come to raise the 
 siege; and when Sir Edward came into Leicester¬ 
 shire the whole country rose with him, and the 
 governor of Leicester brought out foot and cannon 
 to assist him. His forlorn hope being of the 
 Nottingham horse, charged the enemy’s forlorn 
 hope and routed them, and then fell into their 
 body of foot, which they had drained out of their 
 little garrisons, and routed them also, and if Sir 
 Edward Hartup would have come on with his 
 body, they had all been cut off; but the knight 
 would not stir, but commanded the forlorn hope 
 to retreat, who had slain and taken many prisoners 
 of the enemy, and among them Jammot, that had 
 lately made his escape out of Nottingham castle. 
 The enemy perceiving Sir Edward would not hurt 
 them, rallied again and joined with Prince Rupert; 
 of whom as soon as Sir Edward had intelligence, 
 he went back to Newark with such shameful 
 haste that he quitted Melton with all the prisoners 
 the forlorn hope had lately taken. The Leicester 
 forces, discouraged at this miscarriage, returned to 
 their garrisons and marched no more with him.* 
 
 The governor of Nottingham kept out spies 
 upon the enemy’s motions, and sent woi'd to the 
 Leaguer, but the gentlemen there were so over¬ 
 confident, they would not believe any force could 
 come to raise their siege. At length, the governor 
 of Nottingham being there himself, word was 
 brought Prince Rupert was come to Ashby, 
 wherefore he, fearing some attempt upon his 
 garrison, to divert the forces at the siege, re¬ 
 turned home with his brother to look to their 
 charge. It was late upon Wednesday night when 
 the governor came home, and was certainly in¬ 
 formed that Prince Rupert was, that afternoon, 
 marched by to raise the siege, with about six 
 thousand men. Immediately the governor sent 
 two men, excellently well mounted upon his own 
 horses, to carry the alarum to Sir John Meldrum, 
 who, by two of the clock on Thursday morning, 
 delivered him their letters, and he presently pre¬ 
 pared to fight with the prince, who about nine or 
 ten of the clock came. Sir John had drawn all 
 his ordnance into the walls of a ruined house, 
 called the spittle, and the horse were first to 
 charge the enemy. Col. Thornhagh and Major 
 Rossiter gave them a very brave charge, routed 
 those whom they first encountered, and took 
 prisoners Major-general Gerrard and others, and, 
 had they been seconded by the rest of the horse, 
 had utterly defeated the prince’s army; but the 
 Lincolnshire troops fled away before they ever 
 charged, and left Col. Thornhagh engaged, with 
 only his own horse, in the prince’s whole body, 
 where, they say, he charged the prince himself, 
 and made his way and passed very gallantly 
 through the whole army, with a great deal of 
 honour, and two desperate wounds, one in the 
 arm, the other in the belly. After the Lincoln- 
 
 * In Whitelock’s Memoirs, p. 85, there is an account of 
 this relief, or raising the siege of Newark, agreeing with 
 Mrs. Hutchinson’s, except that it is not quite so particular, 
 and omits the account of what bcfel Col. Thornhagh. 
 Whitelock attributes to the misconduct of Sir E. Hartup 
 and Col. Bingley, Prince Rupert’s coming with his forces 
 entire to the place; and informs us that a court-martial 
 was directed to decide upon their conduct, but does not 
 6tate what their decision was. 
 
 F 2 
 
 MEMOIRS OF TIIE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
€8 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 shire horse were run away, Sir John Meldrum 
 sent the Derby horse and the Nottingham foot, 
 with two companies of Col. King’s to keep Muscam 
 bridge, and Molanus, the Derbyshire major, to 
 be their commander. Col. Thornhagh was sent 
 home in a waggon to Nottingham. Sir John him¬ 
 self, with the few horse and dragoons that were 
 left, of Nottingham and Derby, being about five 
 hundred, went into the spittle, to his foot. The 
 prince lost more than Sir John in the skirmish, 
 but as soon as ever Sir John had betaken himself 
 to the spittle, the prince sent horse and foot 
 between him and Muscam bridge*. The horse 
 that were left there to guard the foot ran every 
 man away, so that they had not a horse left to 
 fetch them any provision. The major that com¬ 
 manded them told them that he would go to the 
 next town to buy them some bread, and with that 
 pretence came away and never saw them more. 
 The enemy was endeavouring to make a passage 
 over the river, to come on the other side of them 
 and encompass them, which when they saw and 
 considered that they had no order what to do, 
 nor bread for one meal, nor bullets more than 
 their muskets were loaded withal, and that it was 
 impossible for them to come off, if they stayed 
 till the enemy enclosed them; and further dis¬ 
 covering that their friends in the spittle were in 
 parley, they conceived it their best way to come 
 home, which they plotted so to do that the enemy 
 might not perceive it till they were out of their 
 reach ; so leaving lighted matches and squibs laid 
 at certain distances to deceive the enemy, they 
 came safe home; but within less than half an 
 hour after they were gone the enemy came on 
 the other side, and not missing them till morning, 
 by reason of the squibs, they pursued them not, 
 by which means they came safe to Nottingham; 
 which was a very seasonable mercy, for had they 
 stayed the choicest arms in the garrison had been 
 lost, and the best and most confiding soldiers dis¬ 
 armed : for Sir John agreed upon articles with 
 the prince, to deliver up the spittle wherein he 
 lay, with all the muskets, ordnance, and ammuni¬ 
 tion in it; the foot soldiers to march away with 
 colours flying, swords and pikes, the horsemen 
 with their horses and swords, and all the com¬ 
 manders with their pistols : but the prince 
 broke all these conditions, and pillaged them to 
 their shirts, and sent many captains quite naked 
 away. 
 
 The committee of Nottingham now began again 
 to mutter at the governor, but he would not take 
 notice of it, but applied himself to take care for 
 the securing of his town, where the enemy now 
 daily threatened to come. So he floated the 
 meadows on the Line side, where there was no 
 fortification, and raised a fort in the midst of the 
 meadows, to preserve the float, and fortified the 
 Trent bridges more strongly, and, expecting the 
 
 * Itapin gives a different account of this matter, but to 
 those who know, or observe the situation of the places, 
 Mrs. Hutchinson’s will appear to be the true one. Besides 
 Muscam bridge there was a bridge of boats, which enabled 
 the prince’s forces to surround the guard left at Muscam 
 bridge : this guard, instead of deserting, as Rap in says of 
 it, was deserted and sacrifioed for want of support: the 
 road still lay open to Lincoln, but probably Prince Rupert 
 was too strong and too active to let the besiegers escape 
 any way unless they had acted with better acoord amongst 
 themselves. 
 
 enemy every hour, was forced to let the work go 
 on all the Lord’s day. When, calling the captains 
 together to consult the best way of preparing for 
 their defence, Mason, the new town captain, took 
 this time to revive the old mutiny, and said the 
 townsmen would not stand to their works except 
 the ordnance were drawn down from the castle to 
 the town works: the governor rebuking him for 
 this unseasonable insolence, he and his men were, 
 all the time of this great exigence, so backward 
 that they were rather an obstruction than assist¬ 
 ance, and there was much ado to get them either 
 to the works or the guards. Indeed such a blow 
 was given to the parliament interest, in all these 
 parts, that it might well discourage the ill-affected, 
 when even the most zealous were cast down, and 
 gave all for lost: but the governor, who on no 
 occasion ever let his courage fall, but, when things 
 were at the lowest, re collected all his force, that 
 his own despondency might not contribute any¬ 
 thing to his malicious fortune, at this time ani¬ 
 mated all the honest men, and expressed such 
 vigour and cheerfulness, and such stedfast resolu¬ 
 tion, as disappointed all the malignants of their 
 hopes. The wives, children, and servants of such 
 as were in the enemy’s garrisons and armies, he 
 thought it not safe to suffer any longer in the 
 town, in such a time of danger, and therefore 
 commanded them all to depart, not sparing even 
 some of his own relations ; but though this was 
 done by the concurrence of the whole committee, 
 yet some of them, who were loath the town should 
 lose any that wished ill to the governor and his 
 undertakings, privately, without his consent or 
 knowledge, brought back several persons that 
 were very dangerous to the place. 
 
 And now, upon the twenty-fifth day of March, 
 a letter was brought to the governor from all the 
 commissioners at Newark, telling him that the 
 parliament’s forces had quitted Gainsborough, Lin¬ 
 coln, and Sleeforth, and that the prince intended 
 to advance against Nottingham, and to fire the 
 town if he did not immediately throw down the 
 works, which if he should not do, the world would 
 then take notice of him as the only ruin of his 
 native country. To which the governor returned 
 them answer, that as he never engaged himself 
 in this service, with respect to the success or 
 actions of other places, so, though the whole 
 kingdom were quit besides this town, yet he would 
 maintain it so long as he was able, and he trusted 
 that God would preserve it in his hands; but if 
 it perished, he was resolved to bury himself in 
 the ruins of it, being confident that God would 
 after vindicate him to have been a defender, and 
 not a destroyer of his country. The copy of the 
 letter which the Newark t commissioners sent to 
 the governor, was sent to one Francis Cooke, a 
 malignant inhabitant of the town, subscribed with 
 all the commissioners’ hands, and desiring him to 
 communicate it to the whole town. The governor 
 having taken what care he could at home, sent 
 immediately to the parliament and to the Earl of 
 Essex, acquainting them with the desperate con¬ 
 dition of the place, and desiring they would send 
 him seasonable relief, if the prince should besiege 
 him, promising to employ his utmost endeavour 
 to hold it for them, or to lose himself with it. 
 My lord general returned a very civil encouraging 
 letter, and now the prince, two days after the 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 letter, was advanced within three miles of Not¬ 
 tingham, when it pleased God to divert him from 
 coming against the town by letters which were 
 brought him from Oxford, which occasioned his 
 hasty return into the south, without any attempt 
 upon the place, which, by God’s mercy, was thus 
 delivered from this threatening danger. How¬ 
 ever their enemies at Newark, by the late success, 
 were very much exalted, and by the quitting of 
 so many parliament garrisons about them, in¬ 
 creased in power, and left at leisure to turn all 
 their designs against Nottingham, which being so 
 infirm within itself, the governor had a very 
 difficult task to preserve it; while the disaffected, 
 
 | who were subtle, did not clearly declare tliem- 
 1 selves, but watched all opportunities to woi'k the 
 j governor’s disturbance, by fomenting the ill hu¬ 
 mours of the factious committee-men and priests ; 
 for they now took occasion to fall in with them, 
 i upon the governor’s release of his chief cannoneers 
 I out of prison, into which he, by the instigation of 
 the ministers and the godly people, whom they 
 animated almost to mutiny, had put them, for 
 separating from the public worship, and keeping 
 little conventicles in their own chamber. It was 
 with some reluctancy he had committed them, 
 for the men, though of different judgments in 
 matter of worship, were otherwise honest, peace¬ 
 able, and very zealous and faithful to the cause ; 
 but the ministers were so unable to suffer their 
 separation and spreading of their opinions, that 
 the governor was forced to commit them; yet 
 when this great danger was, he thought it not 
 prudent to keep them discontented and then 
 employ them, and therefore set them at liberty, 
 for which there was a great outcry against him as 
 a favourer of separatists *. 
 
 * This being the first time that a disunion in religion 
 among those of the parliament’s party has been plainly 
 named, it is proper here to state, that, in the outset, all 
 those sects, which have since taken so many various names, 
 joined their forces to repel the encroachments of the Pre¬ 
 lates,— it would not be fair to say of the Church of Eng¬ 
 land, whose characteristic is moderation itself,—but when 
 they had almost crushed the Episcopalians, the Presby¬ 
 terian ministers began to rise pre-eminent in power, and 
 to show that, though they had changed the name, they by 
 no means intended to diminish the dominion of the 
 hierarchy. There are preserved in Whitelock two speeches, 
 one of his own, and one of Selden’s on this subject. To 
 resist this usurpation there arose a very powerful party or 
 I faction under the name of Independents, under whose 
 banner enlisted all who desired liberty of conscience,of what¬ 
 ever particular persuasion they might be; and, amongst 
 others, most naturally all such as wished to see the church 
 of England restored to her purity, and redeemed from her 
 j servility and subserviency to the usurpations of the crown, 
 but whose hopes would have been totally destroyed if 
 Presbytery obtained a full and firm establishment. It is 
 extraordinary that almost all the historians put the cause 
 for the effect, and suggest that many members of the par- 
 liament, and at the head of them Cromwell, raised this 
 j faction to obtain their own exaltation ; whereas intolerancy 
 raised it in the nation at large, and especially in the army, 
 and Cromwell availed himself of it when raised. In a 
 scarce book, called Anglia Rediviva, or the success of the 
 Army under Fairfax, written by Joshua Sprigge, he says, 
 “ the army was, what by example and justice, kept in good 
 order both respectively to itself and the country: there 
 were many of them differing in opinion, yet not in action 
 nor business ; they all agreed to preserve the kingdom ; 
 they prospered in their unity, more than uniformity ; and 
 whatever their opinions were, they plundered none with 
 
 It will not be amiss, in this place, to carry on 
 the parliament story, that we may the better judge 
 things at home, when we know the condition of 
 affairs abroad. The queen, being suffered to pass 
 through Nottinghamshire by those forces which 
 were sent down thither to have prevented her, 
 joined with Prince Rupert and came to the king, 
 and was by the parliament voted traitor for many 
 actions, as pawning the crown jewels in Holland, 
 encouraging the rebellion in Ireland, heading a 
 papistical army in England, &c. 
 
 The Earl of Essex’s army lay sick about 
 London for recruits ; Sir William Waller, after 
 many victories in the west, was at length totally 
 routed, and returned to London, Prince Maurice 
 and Sir Ralph Hopton having recovered and pos¬ 
 sessed almost the whole west of England for the 
 king. The north my lord Newcastle’s army com¬ 
 manded so fully, that they were advanced into 
 Nottingham and Lincolnshire, and the adjacent 
 counties. The parliament being in this low condi¬ 
 tion, had agreed with Scotland, and entered into a 
 solemn national league and covenant, which was 
 taken throughout both kingdoms, and the king 
 had made a cessation of arms with the Irish 
 rebels, and brought over the English army, that- 
 had been honoured with so many successes against 
 them, to serve him here; but God never blessed 
 his affairs after they came to him, though indeed, 
 before their arrival, God had begun to turn the 
 scale ; for the city of Gloucester stopping, by its 
 faithful and valiant resistance, the career of the 
 king’s victories, after Bristol and Exeter and all 
 the west was lost, the king disdaining to leave it 
 behind him unvanquished, sat down before it, 
 which employed him and his whole army, till the 
 
 them, they betrayed none with them, nor disobeyed the 
 state with them, and they were more visibly pious and 
 peaceable in their opinions than many we call orthodox.” 
 Let the blame of all the misfortunes that flowed from it 
 rest with those who gave disturbance to such men, not to 
 those who screened them from persecution. 
 
 Since the publication of the first edition, there has 
 appeared a very candid critique of this work in the Annual 
 Review for 1806, containing the following remark. “ It 
 may be mentioned as an additional proof of Mr. Hutchin¬ 
 son’s rectitude, thaj; when George Fox, the founder of the 
 quakers, was imprisoned at Nottingham, he protected him; 
 thus proving, that unlike the greater number of those who 
 were engaged in the same cause, he allowed that liberty of 
 conscience to others which he claimed for himself.” 
 
 The editor thought it his duty, upon this suggestion, to 
 make a further inquiry, and has, in pursuance of it, b6en 
 furnished by a respectable Friend, Mr. Barker, surgeon, at 
 Colchester, with the two following extracts, together with 
 some others, which will appear in their proper places. 
 —G. Fox’s Journal, fol. ed. p. 27. “ I went to the Steeple 
 House, at Nottingham, during the time of divine worship, 
 addressed the people, and was committed to prison. When 
 the assizes came on, there was one moved to come and 
 offer himself up for me, body for body, yea, life also : but 
 when I should have been brought before the judge, the 
 sheriff’s man being somewhat long in fetching me to the 
 Sessions-house, the judge was risen before I came, at which 
 I understood he was somewhat offended. So I was returned 
 to prison, and put into the common gaol; and the Lord s 
 power was great among friends, but the people began to be 
 very rude, wherefore the governor of the castle sent down 
 soldiers and dispersed them, and. after that they were 
 quiet." —Sewell’s Hist, of Quakers, fol. ed. p. 22. “Now 
 though the people began to be very, rude, yet the governor 
 of the castle was so very moderate, that he sent down 
 soldiers to disperse them." 
 
70 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 Earl of Essex and his recruited army, assisted 
 with the London auxiliaries, came and relieved 
 it, and pursued the king’s army to an engage¬ 
 ment at Newberry, where the parliament obtained 
 a great and bloody victory, and the king for ever 
 lost that opportunity he lately had of marching 
 up to London, and in all probability of subduing 
 the parliament. My Lord Newcastle, by a like 
 error, about the same time, setting down before 
 Hull, missed the opportunity of wholly ga inin g all 
 those neighbouring counties, and much wasted 
 his great and victorious army, being forced to 
 rise with loss and dishonour from the unyielding 
 town. After the fight at Newberry, Sir William 
 Waller, having gotten a new army, had divers 
 successes with it, and at length totally routed all 
 Hopton’s army, about that time that Prince 
 Rupert raised the siege at Newark, and was the 
 occasion that called the prince so hastily out 
 of those counties. 
 
 The Earl of Essex pursuing the war, had a 
 design to block up Oxford, where the king Avas, 
 and accordingly attempted it, he on one side, and 
 Waller on the other; but the king, Avith a feAv 
 light horse, escaped out of the town, and Avent to 
 join with his greater armies ; which being done, 
 Essex marched farther into the west, and in Corn¬ 
 wall was besieged, where he lost all his foot, 
 ammunition, and ordnance, and came dishonour¬ 
 ably home to London. Waller unsuccessfully 
 followed the king, and the parliament’s affairs 
 all that summer Avere very unprosperous in the 
 Avest, south, and midland counties, but contrary in 
 the north, where the Scotch army, under General 
 Leven, advanced, took some toAvns and forts, and 
 Avasted the Earl of Newcastle’s army more by 
 their patient sufferance of the ill weather, and 
 martial toil, which the English could not so well 
 abide, than by fighting. Sir Thomas Fairfax, 
 having again taken the field Avith his father, after 
 a miraculous victory they had gained over the 
 Irish army * Avhich the king had brought over 
 joined the Scots; and the Earl of Manchester, 
 having raised a force in the associated counties, 
 with which he made an expedition to Lincoln, 
 having Col. Cromwell for his lieutenant-general, 
 marched into Yorkshire, and uniting with the 
 other two armies, they all besieged the Earl of 
 Newcastle in York. To raise this siege, Prince 
 Rupert came with a great army out of the south • 
 riie besiegers rose to fight with the prince, and 
 Newcastle drew all his force out of York to join 
 
 W1 i i when both armies > on a great plain 
 
 called Marston Moor, had a bloody encounter, 
 and the Scots and my Lord Fairfax were wholly 
 routed, and the battle lost; but that Croimvell, 
 with five thousand men which he commanded, 
 routed Prince Rupert, restored the other routed 
 parliamentarians, and gained the most complete 
 victory that had been obtained in the whole Avar. 
 
 1 he victors possessed all the prince’s ordnance, 
 carriages, and baggage; whereupon the prince fled, 
 with as many as he could save, back into the 
 south ; the Earl of Newcastle, with some of his 
 choice friends, went into Germany., and left Sir 
 Thomas Glenham governor of York, which he soon 
 after surrendered, and then the three generals 
 parted ; Leven went back in to the north, and 
 
 took the town of Newcastle, Fairfax remained in 
 Yorkshire, and Manchester returned into the 
 south, by the way taking in many small garrisons 
 as he passed through the counties. 
 
 The queen that summer went into France, to 
 solicitforeign aid for her husband, but ineffectually- 
 meanwhile new treaties were carried on between 
 the king and parliament, but to no purpose; for 
 the king’s false dealing and disingenuity therein 
 was so apparent that they came to nothing but a 
 further discovery of the king’s falsehood, and 
 favour of the Irish rebels, Avith Avhom he noAv em¬ 
 ployed Ormond to treat and conclude a peace. 
 This treaty was that at Uxbridge. Avhere commis¬ 
 sioners met on both sides, but effected nothing ; 
 for the parliament itself began to groiv into two 
 apparent factions of Presbyterians and Indepen¬ 
 dents, and the king had hope, by their divisions, 
 to prevail for the accomplishment of his own endsf. 
 
 It was too apparent how much the whole.par¬ 
 liament cause had been often hazarded, how many 
 opportunities of finishing the war had been over¬ 
 slipped by the Earl of Essex’s army, and believed 
 that he himself, with his commanders, rather en- 
 deavoured to become arbiters of war and peace, 
 than conquerors for the parliament, for it was known 
 that he had given out such expressions : wherefore 
 those in the parliament, who were grieved at the 
 prejudice of the public interest, and loath to bring 
 those men to public shame, who had once Aveli 
 merited of them, devised to new-model the army, 
 and an ordinance Avas made, called the self-denying 
 ordinance, Avhereby all members of parliament, of 
 both houses, were discharged of their commands 
 m the army. Cromwell had a particular exception, 
 Avhen Essex, Manchester, and Denbigh, surren¬ 
 dered their commissions, and Sir Thomas Fairfax 
 was made general of the new-modelled army, 
 CromAvell lieutenant-general, and Skippon major- 
 general. The army was reduced to tAventy-one 
 thousand, Avho prosecuted the war not with design 
 of gain and making it their trade, but to obtain a 
 righteous peace and settlement to the distracted 
 kingdom, and accordingly it succeeded in their 
 hands 
 
 * Commanded by Sir John Biron, or Lord Biron near 
 r^amptwich in Cheshire. 
 
 t Whoever will take the pains to read the king’s letters 
 in Clarendon’s State Papers will’see that this is a true 
 representation of his sentiments: but Heylin pretends the 
 failure of the treaty arose from the extreme pertinacity of 
 the rigid Presbyterians Ave may very well allow both 
 their share. 
 
 t It is suggested by Rapin and others, that this neAv 
 model and self-denying ordinance arose not from the 
 motives here set down, but merely from intrigue; yet 
 Whiteloek, Avho even spoke against it, p. 123, shows the 
 indispensable necessity for such a new model. “Some 
 members of the house were sent to their generals to com¬ 
 plain of their remissness. The Earl of Manchester was 
 under a kind of accusation, the lord general in discontent, 
 Waller not much otherwise, the forces not carefully 
 ordered, and the parliament business in an unsettled con¬ 
 dition, so that it was high time for some other course to 
 be taken by them.” Mr. Sprigge demonstrates this more 
 fully. He says, “ Cromwell was absent in the west when 
 the exemption A^as voted; that he had come to Windsor 
 over night to kiss the general’s hand, and take his leave 
 on quitting the service, but the following morning, ere he j 
 came forth of his chamber, those commands, than which 
 he thought of nothing less in all the world, came to him 
 from the committee of both kingdoms, in obedience to I 
 which he immediately marched away.” And further, 
 
 “ the house did this for their own happiness, and that 
 of their general Fairfax.”—Mrs. Hutchinson was suffi. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 71 
 
 To return to Nottingham: after the prince was 
 narched away out of the country, the enemy with- 
 >ut was still designing against the garrison, and 
 he governor’s enemies within were still perplex- 
 ng all his affairs. Upon the eleventh of May, a 
 etter was found by a wench in the night-time, 
 Iropped in the shoe-makers’ booths; which letter 
 vas directed to Sir Richard Biron, informing him 
 hat “the business between them went on with good 
 success, and that the time drawing on, it behoved 
 aim to be very diligent, and desiring him to burn 
 ;he letter,” which was subscribed, “Your care- 
 ’ul servant, A. C. and a postscript written, 
 
 ‘ Fail nothing by any means, and there shall be 
 ao neglect in me.” The governor took all courses 
 that could be imagined to discover this person, 
 but could never find him out. About this time 
 some troopers going by a house, where one Henry 
 Wandall, a debauched malignant apothecary had 
 lived, (but the house was now empty, and he had 
 the key of it,) they perceived a smoke to come 
 out of it, and went in and found some kindled 
 sticks laid in a potsherd, just by a rotten post, under 
 the stair-case, with hurds and other combustible 
 things about it, which it was evident were put 
 there to fire the house, but for what reason, or by 
 j whom, was not discovered. 
 
 The governor hearing of some troops of the 
 enemy in the Yale, had a design to go thither, and 
 acquainted the committee with it; telling them he 
 would take out all the horse, and himself march 
 with the body, and leave a foot company and thirty 
 horse behind him at the bridges, so as by that 
 time he was marched by Wiverton, which would 
 give Shelford the alarum, the thirty horse, which 
 were more than Shelford had to send out, should 
 face the house on that side next Nottingham, and 
 the foot should march a private way through the 
 closings* *, so that if Shelford horse or foot should 
 come forth against those thirty horse, the foot 
 might get between them and home, or take any 
 advantage that was offered. All this the com¬ 
 mittee very well approved, and so it was resolved 
 to put it in execution the next night after, because 
 it would take some time to provide horses for the 
 musketeers. The governor coming out of the 
 committee, met Capt. White upon the parade in 
 the castle-yard, and acquainted him with the 
 design, who, with a dejected countenance and a 
 faint voice, pretended to approve it, but desired 
 the thirty horse who were to stay some hours 
 behind, might be of his troop ; to which the 
 governor assented to gratify his desire, though he 
 told him, he was very loath to spare any of that 
 troop, who were old soldiers and well acquainted 
 with the country ; but he desired him the rest 
 might not fail to be ready: the captain promised 
 they should, and so departed. When the governor 
 had made ready all the horse and dragoons, and 
 was himself just ready to march out with them, 
 being at Col. Thornhagh’s house, White came in ; 
 the governor, not doubting of his intention to go, 
 asked him if his troop were ready ? He replied, 
 “ they were out upon service ; thirty,” said he, 
 “ are gone by your consent, and the rest went to 
 fetch in a malignant at Ekering ; some few odd 
 ones remain, winch you may have if you will.” 
 
 cicntly observant of Cromwell’s artifices to have accused 
 him of it on this occasion, if he had deserved it. 
 
 * Closings, closes, fields, vulg. Notts, closen. 
 
 The governor desired him to go himself and assist 
 him, the captain desired to be excused, for “ to 
 what purpose should he go when his troop was not 
 there?” The governor went from thence to his 
 own lodgings, and meeting the committee, ac¬ 
 quainted them how White had served him, who 
 seemed to resent it very ill at that time ; and while 
 they were discoursing of it White’s officer came 
 up with warrants to be signed for hay for the 
 quarters, which being offered the governor, he 
 tore, and said he would sign no warrants for such 
 a disorderly troop, as would do no service but 
 what they list, whose officers knew neither how to 
 give nor obey commands. 
 
 Notwithstanding this discouragement, to want 
 eighty of his best men, the governor went out with 
 the rest, and when he had drawn them into the 
 Trent lanes, one of his spies came in with in¬ 
 telligence that at a town in the Yale, called 
 Sierston, and another next it, called Elston, there 
 was two hundred horse quartered, who being come 
 in weary and secure, might easily be surprised 
 that night. The governor, calling the captains 
 together, imparted the intelligence, and they were 
 all forward to go on in the design, except Captain 
 Pendock, who persuaded much against it ; but 
 while they were discoursing another intelligencer 
 came in, to second the former, whereupon the 
 governor told the captains, that if they would go, 
 he was resolved to do something that night, and 
 because Captain Pendock was best acquainted with 
 that side of the country, he appointed him to lead 
 on the forlorn hope, which accordingly he did, 
 but with such sloth and muttering, that in two or 
 three miles’ riding, the governor was forced to 
 send up some officers to him, to hasten him on ; 
 neither was this from cowardice, but only humour 
 and faction, for the man was stout enough when 
 he had a mind to it, but now he rode along, 
 muttering that it was to no purpose, and when 
 he came to Saxondale Gorse, purposely lost him¬ 
 self and his forlorn hope ; which the governor 
 missing, was much troubled, fearing that by some 
 misadventure they might have been enclosed and 
 cut off between the enemy’s garrisons ; but when 
 they came to Saxondale Lane, Pendock and his 
 forlorn hope were found safe in the rear of the 
 body. The governor, perceiving Pendock’s back¬ 
 wardness, had sent out some parties, one troop 
 under Capt.-lieut. Palmer, and another party 
 with Cornet Peirson, to some near towns, to exe¬ 
 cute some of the committee’s warrants in fetching 
 in delinquents, when the cornet came back with an 
 alarum that two or three hundred horse were 
 quartered at Elston and Sierston, which he must 
 either fight with, or retreat. Capt. Pendock was 
 again wonderful unwilling to go on, and said it 
 would be day before they should come there ; but 
 the governor bade those that would, follow him, 
 for he would go, and accordingly he went; and 
 when he came to the town, drew up his men at 
 the town’s end in a body, from which he sent in 
 some parties to fall into the town, himself staying 
 with the body between them and Newark, to defend 
 them from any of the enemies that might have 
 come upon them :f so they b rought out two cap- 
 
 t Whoever looks upon the map, and observes the 
 vicinity of these places to Newark, and their great dis¬ 
 tance from Nottingham, will see it to have been a scrvico 
 of great delicacy and danger. It is mentioned cursorily by 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 tain-lieutenants, some cornets, and other gentlemen 
 of quality, thirty troopers, and many more horses 
 and arms ; Capt. Thimbleby, absolutely refusing 
 quarter, was killed. The governor sent into the 
 town to command all his men immediately away • 
 but a lieutenant and cornet making .not haste to’ 
 obey, while they staid for some drink were sur¬ 
 prised by a party that came from Newark, before 
 the corporal the governor had sent to fetch them 
 off was well out of the town ; but with those he 
 had taken, and all the booty, and many horses and 
 beasts fetched from malignants in the enemy’s 
 quarters, the governor came safe home, to the 
 great discontent of Capt. White, who was some¬ 
 thing out of countenance at it. This may serve 
 instead of many more, to show how hard a task 
 he had to carry on the service, with such refrac¬ 
 tory malicious persons under him. 
 
 About this time it happened, that the engineer 
 being by, Capt. Pendock took occasion to rail at 
 the town-works, and Hooper making answers 
 which drew on replies, Pendock struck him, where- 
 upon the man, angry, laid his hand upon his sword 
 and half drew it out, but thrust it in again : the 
 maid ran affrighted into the kitchen, where was 
 one Henry Wandall, who presently called some 
 musketeers, disarmed Mr. Hooper, and sent him 
 prisoner to the governor ; who asking him upon 
 what account he came so, he told him he had no 
 reason to accuse himself; if those that sent him 
 had anything against him, he was ready to answer 
 it. After the governor had expected till about 
 midnight and nothing came, he sent for Wandall 
 and inquiring why and by whose authority lie 
 committed Mr. Hooper prisoner, he answered, 
 tor drawing his sword, he, as an officer of the 
 garrison, had sent him up.” The governor asked 
 who made him an officer ? and taking it upon him, 
 why he did not send up both parties, but only one 
 in a quarrel ? and he being able to give no answer’ 
 but such as show-ed it was done out of malice, the 
 governor committed him for his insolence, who 
 being but a common soldier, presumed to make 
 an officer prisoner, without rendering an account 
 to the governor, and let the other engaged in the 
 quarrel go free. The next day after this, Plumptre 
 | came to the Trent bridges, where being stopped, 
 
 I he sent up a pass which he had procured him 
 j from my lord general, to come and stay in the 
 | town du ring his own pleasure ; which when the 
 | governor saw, he sent him word, that in regard of 
 iny lord general’s pass he might stay at his own 
 house, but bade him take heed, as he would answer 
 j ] le meddled not to make any mutiny or 
 
 commotion in the garrison : to which* he sent an 
 insolent reply, that he was glad the governor was 
 J taught manners ; he was come to town for some 
 : business, and when he had occasion he would 
 J repair to the committee. The committee, hearing 
 this, were very sensible of his insolent carriage, 
 and drew up articles against him, which were 
 s i x ^heir hands, and sent up to Mr. 
 Millington to be preferred against him, in the 
 ! house of parliament, and to be showed to my lord 
 general, as the lieutenant-colonel should see occa- 
 | sion, whom the governor sent immediately to the 
 general, to acquaint him the reason why Dr. 
 Piumptre had been forced to pro cure his pass for 
 
 Whiteloek, p. 89 ; had Sir John Gell been the commander, 
 
 | we should have had it better displayed. 
 
 Ins protection. The governor took this occasion 
 to send to the general about his cannoneers whom 
 some days before, he had been forced to confine as’ 
 prisoners to their chamber till the general’s plea¬ 
 sure could be known concerning them, for at 
 the instigation of Capt. Palmer, all the ministers 
 in town, and, to make the cry the louder, certain 
 loose malignant priests which they had gotten to 
 join with them, had most violently urged, in a 
 petition to the committee, that these men mHit 
 be turned out of the town for being separatists ; so 
 that the governor was .forced, against his will, to 
 confine them, to prevent mutiny, though they were 
 otherwise honest, obedient, and peaceful. After 
 the lieutenant-colonel was gone, with letters con¬ 
 cerning these matters, to the general, Plumptre 
 behaved himself most insolently and mutinously 
 and he and Mason entering into confederacy, had 
 contrived some articles against the governor for 
 committing Wandall; but when they tried and found 
 they could do no good with them, Mason came to 
 the governor and was most saucily importunate for 
 his release, which, by reason of the insolent manner 
 of seeking it, the governor would not grant. 
 
 The general, upon the governor’s letters, sent 
 down a letter to Plumptre, to discharge him the 
 garnson, another to the governor to release 
 the cannoneers ; which he accordingly did, to the 
 satisfaction of his own conscience, which was not 
 satisfied in keeping men prisoners for their con¬ 
 sciences, so long as they lived honestly and inof¬ 
 fensively ; but it caused a great mutiny in the 
 priests against him, and they blew up as many of 
 their people as they could, to join in faction against 
 the governor, not caring now what men they en¬ 
 tered into confederacy with, nor how disaffected 
 to the cause, so they were but bitter enough against \ 
 the separatists ; which the cunning malignants I 
 perceiving, they now all became zealots, and I 
 laughed in secret to see how they wrought these I 
 men to ruin their own cause and champions. 
 
 Plumptre not taking noticeof thegeneral’s letters, 
 the governor sent him word he expected he should 
 obey them and depart : Plumptre replied, his busi- ; 
 ness was done, and he would go : but in spite of I 
 his teeth he would have a guard. The lieutenant- | 
 colonel would have put in the articles into the j 
 parliament, which the committee had sent up 
 against Plumptre ; but Mr. Millington pretending j 
 all kindness and service to the governor, would I 
 
 needs undertake it, and desired the lieutenant- [ 
 
 colonel to trouble none of the governor’s friends 
 in any business he had to do, but to leave it in 
 his hands, who would employ all his powers, and i 
 serve him with all vigilance and faithfulness, : 
 against all persons whatsoever ; and whereas he 
 heard the governor had some thoughts of coming 
 to London, he wished him not to trouble himself, 
 but to charge him with anything he had to do. | 
 Notwithstanding all this, the governor went to 
 London, having some occasions thither. A little 
 before his going, he and the rest of the committee 
 had required Mr. Salisbury, their treasurer, to | 
 give in his accounts, which he either unwilling or I 
 unable to do, bent his utmost endeavours to raise 
 a high mutiny and faction against the governor, 
 and Capt. White was never backward in any mis¬ 
 chief; these, with Plumptre and Mason, made a 
 close confederacy, and called home Chadwick to i 
 their assistance, having engaged the persecuting || 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 73 
 
 priests and all their idolaters, upon an insinuation 
 j of the governor’s favour to separatists. During 
 Jf Col. Thornhagh’s sickness, the governor undertook 
 j the command of his horse regiment, while it quar- 
 | tered in the garrison, and made the men live 
 orderly, and march out upon designs more fre¬ 
 quently than they used to do when their colonel 
 was well, upon whose easiness they prevailed to 
 do what they list, and some of them, who were 
 great plunderers, were connived at, which the 
 governor would by no means suffer : wherefore 
 these men were, by the insinuations of their officei s 
 and the wicked part of the committee, drawn into 
 the faction, which was working in secret awhile, 
 and at last broke into open prosecutions. They 
 had determined that as soon as the governor was 
 gone, White, the devil’s exquisite solicitor, should 
 also follow to London, but knew not how to do for 
 a pretence to send him upon the public purse ; 
 when wickedness, which never wants long the op¬ 
 portunity it waits for, found one soon out, for the 
 committee of both kingdoms had sent a command 
 for all the horse in Nottingham to repair to Sir 
 John Meldrum in Lancashire ; the town was put 
 upon a hasty petition that their horse might not 
 go, and Capt. White must carry it, who pretends 
 to have known nothing of it half an hour before, 
 yet he was ready ; and Dr. Plumptre, too, prepared 
 to make good his brags, and go with his convoy. 
 Presently after he was gone, the engine of mis¬ 
 chief comes to town, Col. Chadwick, whom 
 Mr. Salisbury receives with great joy and exul- 
 tance, boasting, to use his own words, that they 
 should now mump the governor. At the mayor 
 of the town’s house he was entertained with much 
 wine, whereof Mr. Ayscougli, a committee-man, 
 having taken a pretty large proportion, coming 
 that night to supper to the castle, told the lieu¬ 
 tenant-colonel and the governor’s wife, that he 
 would advise them to acquaint the governor there 
 was mischief hatching against him, and that Chad¬ 
 wick was come to town on purpose to effect it, 
 which, though the fellow discovered in his drink, 
 was true enough, and he himself was one of the 
 conspiring wicked ones. 
 
 To fortify their party, in all haste, they en¬ 
 deavoured to raise a new troop of dragoons, under one 
 Will Hall, a debauched malignant fellow, and there¬ 
 upon one of the governor’s mortal enemies; but some 
 of the honester townsmen perceiving the design, and 
 not yet being seduced, would not raise him any 
 horse, so at that season the troop was not raised. 
 
 And now Capt. White came home, when it was 
 observed that after his return, he would not allow 
 the governor that name, but only called him Col. 
 Hutchinson, and when any one else termed him 
 governor, would decline the acknowledgment of 
 that name : then cajoling his fellow horse-officers 
 and the troopers, they, through his insinuations, 
 everywhere began to detract from the governor, 
 and to magnify Capt. White, and not only to dero¬ 
 gate from the governor, but from all persons that 
 were affected to him. Now was there a petition 
 drawn up to be presented to the committee of both 
 kingdoms, desiring that Mr. Millington might be 
 sent down to compose the differences which were 
 in the garrison. The lieutenant-colonel, and some 
 others, refusing to sign it, Capt. White told them 
 it was a pretence, which Mr. Millington desired, 
 the favour of them that they would make, to ob¬ 
 
 tain leave for him to come down and visit his wife 
 and children, whom he had a longing desire to see, 
 and knew not any other way to bring it about. 
 The gentlemen to gratify Mr. Millington signed it, 
 and he himself at London, with the same pretext, 
 obtained the governor’s hand to it, while the go¬ 
 vernor, deceived by his high and fair professions 
 of service and kindness to him, never entertained 
 any suspicion of his integrity : and this was the 
 greatest of the governor's defects ; through the 
 candidness and sincerity of his own nature, he was 
 more unsuspicious of others, and more credulous 
 of fair pretenders, than suited with so great a 
 prudence, as he testified in all things else. Nothing 
 awakened jealousy in him but gross flattery, which, 
 when he saw any one so servile as to make, he 
 believed the soul that could descend to that base¬ 
 ness might be capable of falsehood : but those 
 who were cunning attempted him not that way, 
 but put on a face of fair, honest, plain friendship, 
 with which he was a few times, but not often in 
 his life, betrayed. At Mr. Millington’s entreaty 
 the governor released Wandall, but would have 
 prosecuted the committee’s petition against Plump¬ 
 tre, which Mr. Millington most earnestly persuaded 
 him not to do, but desired that he would permit 
 him to come and live quietly in his own house, 
 upon engagement that he should not raise nor 
 foment any mutiny nor faction in the garrison, or 
 intermeddle with any of the affairs thereof. The 
 governor was easily wrought to assent to this also, 
 but Plumptre refused to enter into such an engage¬ 
 ment to quiet behaviour, and so,, for that time, 
 came not to town. There was again a new design 
 against the garrison by the enemy discovered, and 
 a spy taken, who owned a soldier in the major’s 
 company that had listed himself on purpose to 
 effect this mischief ; but through careless custody, 
 the spy escaped that day that the garrison were 
 celebrating their joy for the great victory at York. 
 Meanwhile the governor supposing Mr. Millington, 
 as he professed himself, highly his friend and his 
 protector, complained to him of the mutinous 
 carriage of the horse, and his disturbance and dis¬ 
 couragement in the public service thereby, and 
 desired him to get a resolution in the thing, 
 whereby his power and their duty might be defined, 
 that he might know wherein he was to command 
 them in his garrison, and they to obey him. Mr. 
 Millington advised him to write a letter to him 
 concerning this, setting down his own apprehen¬ 
 sions, what he was to exact from them, and they 
 to render him ; which accordingly the governor 
 did, and left it with Millington, and returned to 
 his garrison. Mr. Millington told him, that he 
 had showed the letter to the committee of both 
 kingdoms, who had given their opinion of it, that 
 he required no more of them than he ought to 
 have. Soon after the governor, Mr. Millington 
 came down to Nottingham, with instructions from 
 the committee of both kingdoms to hear and, if 
 he could, compose the differences at Nottingham ; 
 if not, to report them to the committee of both 
 kingdoms. Mr. Millington, coming down with 
 these, brought Plumptre as far as Leicester with 
 him, and begged of the governor to permit him to 
 return to his house, engaging himself that he should 
 not meddle with anything belonging to the garrison, 
 nor come near the castle, nor any of the forts : 
 which engagement the governor received, and 
 
74 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 suffered the man to come home ; and Millington 
 
 n S Dr pf Ver f° rSh0 ? d SUSpeCt his great concern 
 Ih ml P 1 U ™ pt /t’. made stron g professions to him 
 that he desired his re-admission into the town for 
 nothing but to be a snare to him : for he knew 
 the turbulence and pride of his spirit such that 
 
 TV 6 \ uiet > but * ^ £ indul- 
 gence he should, as he believed he would, return 
 
 to his former courses, he would be inexcusable in 
 the eyes of all men. Then Mr. Millington desired 
 the governor to draw up some heads, wherein he 
 conceived his power to consist, which he did re- 
 
 eithT 8 a moS f t . a11 the words of his commission'into 
 ^b^.^P 08111011 ^ which when he showed first to 
 
 Mr M, ! K°”’ ^ the Committee 
 Mr. Millington seemed very well to approve of 
 
 i and Pr ? tested again to the governor the 
 faithfulness of his heart to him, excising hfs in! 
 imacy with his enemies upon a zeal he had to do 
 him service by discovering their designs against 
 
 Woild a be d r a l’!h himself tI,erein ’ S ' ?r PubM ck 
 ouldbe . but the governor disliking this double 
 
 dealing, though it had been with his enemies 
 
 desired lnm rather to declare himself ingenuously 
 
 as Ins conscience led him, though it should be 
 
 a amst lnm, and told him freely he liked not this 
 
 fair carnage to both. When the governor put in 
 
 his propositions to the committee, they desired 
 
 each of them might have a copy of them, and all 
 
 whTch^wl m !i t0 consider them 5 at the end of 
 vlm p ii? 11 he g0v f nor P ressed their answer, 
 whether they assented to them, or could object 
 
 anolodiS t ag T St them ’ they > With false Mattering 
 were dnP t * g0Vern ° r ’ that if such command 
 
 veTnnr ^ m ? n ' they should rather the go- 
 
 veinor should employ it than any person what- 
 
 thev^ ^ ^ ea ® 01 J 1 of llis unquestioned merits ; but 
 they conceived that such a power given to a 
 
 C 0 f r,W0Uld n - 0t COnsist wi th thafowhich be- 
 onged to a committee, whereupon they produced 
 
 I ti edl ° U ^ im P ei ’t inent paper in answer to the 
 governor s propositions ; which, when the governor 
 J ad , 0ver > . he flu ng by, saying it was a ridiculous 
 senseless piece of stuff : some of them taking ex¬ 
 ceptions, he should so contemn the commitee^s pa 
 
 beLiiz'r 1 ’ 1 ,eknew r^ et Z 
 
 being signed by anyone, if any of them would own 
 k nw T! t iem t0 subscribe b, and then he should 
 was aSfb 0 S T; Ther -P^ the next day it 
 
 ton rS . b ri h , u Ut} Slgned b ? Mr - Milling. 
 
 ton Chadwmk, Salisbury, White, and the mayor 
 of the town. The sum of the paper not con 
 
 himseff buL^^r 8 against the governor 
 irur tW b t T gai i n 'S hlS P ower > and wholly deny- 
 
 ZerZZ Ze X h ? d P0W ‘ er *° ™ ke * 
 
 u- ’• °F con fer any such power on him as 
 
 his commission imported ; the governor told them 
 
 mv Lord P r -T eerne ^ him > b «‘ ‘o acqS 
 to' iuShV ’ WIth W . hom he should leave it, 
 
 to g“ve ine h ^b T n r C ° mmiS f i0n ’ and his authority 
 
 earned to it’ tb {o ™, smucb f ”7 lord wax con- 
 cerned m it, the gentlemen who had more respect 
 
 for him disowned it, and these were theZyernol 
 the lieutenant-colonel, Mr. Pigott, Col. Tlfonto “h’ 
 Major Ireton, Major Widmjpoole, Capt. LomS; 
 and Alderman James. Then the governor told 
 waTof Chad 5 '“to been ^formed that this paper 
 
 MTMilS kS -!°S ri , VanCe ’ and that "hen 
 
 ^ms M with® f W ’ he hugged Chadwick in his 
 arms, with such congratulation, as is not to be 
 
 ! nagl . ned th .7 “-Id give to a fellow of whom 
 they had justly entertained so vile an opinion and 
 then before hisface declared all their thoughts of in 
 
 fS^d of CoTn”^ . w . hich ‘hey had formerly 
 ? w ? d C1 ‘ Cbad wick, whom he asked with 
 what face he could question my lord’s authority 
 to make him governor, when he had formerly used 
 such surreptitious cheats to obtain it for himself 
 
 m^ttPpY^v authorit y * and he asked the com- 
 Wd p h °f b came to pass, they now believed my 
 ~°f d ^ rfax had not authority to make him gover¬ 
 nor when they themselves at first writ to him for 
 tne commission? and to Mr. Millington he said 
 bad deal ? vei 7 unfaithfully to those that en¬ 
 trusted him to compose differences, which he had 
 
 withWm ^ l t ! ian v f ? Und j and ver y treacherously 
 with him, making himself a party and the chief of 
 Ins adversaries, when he pretended only to be a 
 reconciler. Having at full laid them open one to 
 aa< y ier > and decIared all their treachery, malice 
 pnde, and knavery, to their faces, he went away' 
 
 Imd 3 ’ f COnfusio 1 n he had left them in ; who 
 
 S??*? ? r ? Ue enough ^ their shame to bring I 
 them back to repentance, but having begun to I 
 persecute him with their spite and malicefwere I 
 5" t0 carr y on their wicked design, wherein 1 
 
 them Mr^ d T bl > e encourageme nt to animate 
 them, Mr. Millington’s sheltering them in the Dar 
 liament house, and obstructing all redrZtheZ 
 vernor should there seek for! and the h™e S S „i 
 
 of ftin^ adva " tage tb °y mi 8 h ‘ upon the change 
 ot things expect by the garrison, if they could 
 wrest it out of the governor’s hands, either by 
 weaiymg him with unjust vexations, or by watefo 
 ing some advantage against him, to procure the 
 discharge of his office by the parliament; for they 
 knowing him to be impatient of affronts, and of a' 
 igh spirit, thought to provoke him to passion 
 wherein something might fall out to give them' 
 
 theZth^tV bUt h6 ’ p .f“ ivin « their drift, shewed 
 tiiem that he governed his anger, and suffered it 
 
 uTLTr h ' m ’ V' d that he could make use of 
 
 sions th^ ' lI 'ui nSO enC ] e ’ and y et avoid a11 excur- 
 sions that might prejudice himself.* When the 
 
 governor nncJertook this employment, the parlia! 
 ment s interest in those parts was so low, and the 
 hazard so desperate, that these pitiful wretches 
 
 cauTT courted / aithful - hearted to the public' 
 ctiuse, courted lnm to accept and keep the place • 
 
 and though theirfoul spirits hated thedaylightof his 
 more virtuous conversation, yet were they willing 
 
 andfod VI - lmb f r the brunt of a11 the ba zard 
 and toil of their defence, and more willing to be 
 
 than^n hyl T mdefatigabIe industry and courage, 
 than to render him the just acknowledgment of 
 
 b y g00d d ^erts. This ingratitude did not at aU 
 abate his zeal for the public service, for as he 
 sought not praise, so he was well enough satisfied 
 
 ffiok in gWe 5 tbrou g h their envious eyes, they 
 took m a general good esteem of him, and sinned 
 against their own consciences in persecuting hinf 
 
 * To so ™ e the re °ital of these mumd^Tb^lT^ 
 
 thauLsf^sSi bUt Whitel ° Ck ' S M-oSls sS 
 
 at tnese, and such like, in various parts of the kinerinm 
 ment lrc jl! h f “ 5 “ 0nd fre< ! uen ‘ attention of tlie parlia- 
 S/Z?h” P“V a man of Col. Hutchinson’s 
 
 tosidiotSIs . 1 - 6 address With which ha ‘heir 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHI NSON. _ 75 
 
 which the lieutenant-colonel commanded, and a 
 
 hereof he had after acknowledgments and tes¬ 
 timonies from many of them. All the while of 
 his contest, he was borne up by a good and ho¬ 
 nourable party of the committee, and greater in 
 umber and value than the wicked ones, whom 
 lr. Millington’s power in the house .only counte¬ 
 nanced and animated to pursue their mischiefs, 
 ivhat it was that drew Mr. Millington into their 
 onfederacy was afterwards apparent; they hired 
 .'l inn with a subscription of losses, for which they 
 •ave him public faith double to what he really had 
 lost ;* and they offered him a share of the go¬ 
 vernor’s spoils, if he would help them to make him 
 prey, which would have been good booty to his 
 Jnean family; for although the governor had 
 lkherto got nothing but desperate hazard and 
 vast expense, yet now this garrison began to be m 
 i more hopeful condition, by the late success in 
 ; he north. After York was taken, the Earl of 
 Manchester marched into our parts, upon whose 
 joining Bolsover and Tickhill castles were de¬ 
 livered up to him, and Welbeck, the Earl of New¬ 
 castle’s house, which was given into Col. Thorn- 
 hagh’s command, and much of the enemy’s wealth 
 by that means brought into Nottingham : Wink- 
 field manor, a strong garrison in Derbyshire, was 
 taken upon composition, and by this means a rich 
 and large side of the country was laid open to 
 help to maintain the garrison at Nottingham, and 
 more hoped for by these gentlemen, who were now 
 as greedy to catch at the rewards of another’s la¬ 
 bours, as unable to merit anything themselves ; 
 but when the hopes of the harvest of the whole 
 country had tempted them to begin their wicked 
 plots, God, seeming angry at their ill use of mercy, 
 caused the Earl of Manchester to be called back 
 into the south, when he was going to have be¬ 
 sieged Newark, and so that town with the petty 
 garrisons at Wiverton, Slielford, and Bel voir, 
 were still left for further exercise to Nottingham. 
 Yet the hopes these would in time be gained, made 
 these gentlemen prosecute their design against the 
 governor, whose party they endeavoured with all 
 subtleties to weaken ; and first attempted Col. 
 Thornhagh, who having by his signalized valour 
 arrived to a great reputation, they thought if they 
 could gain him, he would be their best lever 
 to heave out the governor, and that prop once re¬ 
 moved they despaired not to make him contribute 
 ' to his own ruin; for they had discovered in him a fa¬ 
 cility of nature, apt to be deluded by fair pretences, 
 and more prone to suspect the kind plain-dealing 
 of his friends, than the flattery of his enemies : 
 i but the governor, after they had displayed them¬ 
 selves, by his vigilancy prevented many of their 
 malicious designs, and among the rest that they 
 had upon this gentleman. During his sickness 
 the governor took care of his regiment, and em¬ 
 ployed the troops that quartered in the garrison : 
 but through the wicked instigations of Captain 
 White, being very refractory, and the regiment 
 often called out on field service, the governor sent 
 for a commission, and raised a troop of horse, 
 
 * Of this custom of applying to the parliament for 
 | reparation or compensation, and of its being granted gene¬ 
 rally at the expense of delinquents or cavaliers, there 
 j appear many instances in Whitelock; no doubt many 
 I abuses crept in. In Walker’s Hist, of Independ. p. 81, 
 
 I Mr. Millington is declared to have received in this man¬ 
 ner 2000J. • 
 
 troop of dragoons for the peculiar service of the gar¬ 
 rison. These cunning sowers of sedition wrought, 
 upon this occasion, Col. Thornhagh into a jealous 
 belief that Col. Hutchinson was taking the advan¬ 
 tage of his sickness to work himself into his com¬ 
 mand. Col. Thornhagh was grieved at it, but said 
 nothing ; but the governor discovering the thing, 
 notwithstanding his silence, when the lieutenant- 
 colonel went to London, procured a commission 
 for Col. Thornhagh to be, next under Sir Thomas 
 Fairfax, commander in chief of all the parliament’s 
 horse in Nottinghamshire at all times, which being 
 brought to Col. Thornhagh, when he knew nothing 
 of it, cleared him of that suspicion. And now, al¬ 
 though they were more inclined to delude than 
 openly to oppose Col. Thornhagh, yet they having 
 no exceptions against the governor in his own per¬ 
 son, but against his authority, they were forced to 
 deny Col. Thornhagh’s command as well as tlie 
 governor’s, they being both derived from the same 
 power. The horse captains, who were allured by 
 fair colours of preferment, and indulged in their 
 plunder, which they hoped to do with more free¬ 
 dom if Capt. White prevailed, were more obedient 
 to Capt. White and their own ambition, than to 
 their colonel or the laws and customs of war. 
 The committee hoped, by thus disputing the colonel’s 
 powers, under a face ol parliament authority, 
 to weary them out, and make them cast up their 
 commissions, when they had, by Mr. Millington, 
 blocked up the way of their complaint, so that they 
 feared not being turned out of the committee for 
 the abuse of that trust: and perhaps they had 
 succeeded, but that the governor scorned to give 
 up a good cause, either particular or public, for 
 want of courage to defend it among many difficul¬ 
 ties ; and then, although he had many enemies, he 
 had more friends, whom if he should desert, they 
 would be left to be crushed by these malicious per¬ 
 sons ; and more than all this, the country would 
 be abandoned into the hands of persons who 
 would only make a prey of it, and not endeavour 
 its protection, liberty, or real advantage, which 
 had been his chief aim in all his undertakings. 
 
 The conspirators, as I may more justly term 
 them than the committee, had sent Capt. White 
 to York, to my Lord Fairfax, and to get the 
 governor’s power defined, which he understanding, 
 the next day went thither himself, and Mr. Pigott, 
 who, from the beginning to the ending, showed 
 himself a most real and generous friend to the 
 governor, and as cordial to his country and the 
 great cause, went along with him, arriving a day 
 after Capt. White. When my lord gave them a 
 hearing together, he asked whether the governor 
 had done anything of consequence without con¬ 
 sulting the committee, which White could not say 
 he had; then he asked White if he had any other 
 misgovernment to accuse him of, which, when 
 White could not allege against him, the governor 
 before his face told my lord all the business, 
 whereupon White was dismissed with reproof and 
 laughter, and letters were written to the com¬ 
 mittee, to justify the governor’s power, and to 
 entreat them to forbear disturbing him m Ins 
 command, and to Mr. Millington, to desire him to 
 come over to York to my lord; both which the 
 governor delivered, but Mr. Millington would not 
 go over, but on the contrary, continued to foment 
 
76 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 and raise up the factions in the town against the 
 governor, and by his countenance the committee 
 every day meditated and practised new provoca¬ 
 tions to stir up the governor to rage, or at least 
 to weary him in his employment. The horse, 
 without his knowledge, they frequently sent 
 abroad; protections, tickets, and passes, they gave 
 out; and, encroaching upon his office in all things 
 whatsoever, wrought such a confusion in the gar¬ 
 rison, that while all men were distracted and 
 amazed, in doubt whose orders to obey, and who 
 were their commanders, they obeyed none, but 
 every man did what he listed; and by that means 
 the public service was in all things obstructed 
 and prejudiced. The governor, while the injury 
 was only to himself, bore it, but when it extended 
 almost to the destruction of the garrison, he was 
 forced to endeavour a remedy. For about this 
 time it happened that Salisbury being treasurer, 
 had given base terms and wilful delays to the 
 soldiers who were assigned their pay, when the 
 money was ready for them in the treasury; and 
 when this base carriage of his had provoked them 
 to a mutiny, the governor was sent for to appease 
 it, which he 'did; but coming to the committee, 
 told them he would no longer endure this usa°-e of 
 theirs, to have all things of power, honour,°and 
 command, wrested out of his hands, and all things 
 of difficulty and danger put upon him ; while they 
 purposely stirred up occasions of rigour and 
 punishment, and then expected he should be the 
 executioner of it, by which he perceived they did 
 these things only with design to render him con¬ 
 temptible and odious to all persons. Not Ion** 
 after a command came for all the horse that 
 could be spared in the garrison to go to Sir John 
 Meldrum, to the relief of Montgomery castle. 
 The governor went to the committee to consult 
 what troops should march, and they voted none. 
 The governor told them, he conceived when a 
 command was given, they were to obey without 
 dispute, and that he came to advise with them 
 what troops should be sent forth, not whether any 
 or no ; therefore, although they voted disobedience 
 ot the command, that would not discharge him, 
 especially the service being of great consequence’ 
 and the troops lying here without other employ¬ 
 ment : wherefore at night he summoned a council 
 of war, and there almost all the captains, having 
 no mind to march so far from home, declared 
 they conceived themselves to be under the com¬ 
 mand of the committee, and would only obey their 
 orders. Upon this the governor went to the com- 
 nnttee and desired them that in regard unanswer¬ 
 able things were done, the public service neglected, 
 and all the transactions of the garrison confused, 
 they would unite with him in a petition to the 
 parliament to define their several powers; and in 
 the meantime either quietly to let him execute 
 his duty, or else to take all upon them and dis¬ 
 charge him. They presently made a motion, that 
 he would call a muster, and put it to all the soldiers 
 whether they would be governed by the committee 
 or the governor. The governor told them his 
 command was not elective, but of right belonged 
 to him, and this way was only the next occa¬ 
 sion to cause a mutiny, which he could not con- i 
 sent to. But they persisting in their course, he 
 came again to them and desired they would at 
 length surcease these affronts in his command, and J i 
 
 their underminings, whereby they endeavoured 
 to alienate men’s hearts from him, and to raise 
 faction against him by close unworthy practices : 
 so after much debate it was on all hands agreed' 
 that they should not at all intermeddle with any¬ 
 thing belonging to the soldiery, nor interrupt 
 the governor in his command till the house of 
 parliament should decide it, and that the go¬ 
 vernor and Capt. White should both go to Lon¬ 
 don to procure a speedy determination of the 
 powers in a fair and open way. This they all 
 faithfully promised the governor, and made many 
 hypocritical professions to him, some of them with 
 tears; whereupon he, who was of the most recon- 
 cileable nature in the world, accepted their fair 
 pretences, and went to drink friendly with them 
 in token of kindness. Yet was all this but hypo¬ 
 crisy and falsehood, for even at that very time 
 they wearied many of the governor’s officers out 
 of the garrison by the continued malice wherewith 
 they persecuted all that had any respect for him. 
 Among these was Mr. Hooper the engineer, a 
 man very faithful to the cause and very honest, 
 but withal rough, who having to do with hateful 
 businesses, was made odious to the common people ; 
 the priests, too, having a particular spite at him, as’ 
 one they esteemed a leader of the separatists, yet 
 he was very ingenious and industrious in his 
 office, and most faithful as well to the governor 
 himself as to the public service. The committee, 
 to insinuate themselves with the common people, 
 regarded him with an evil eye, and so discouraged 
 him, that being offered much better preferment, 
 and invited by Col. Cromwell into other parts, he ac¬ 
 quainted the governor with it, offering withal that, 
 if he might yet be protected from affronts in his 
 employment, he would stay and serve the governor 
 for half the salary offered elsewhere. But the 1 
 governor, although he were very sorry to part with 
 him, and the service would much miss him, yet 
 being so much injured himself, could not undertake 
 the protection of any of his officers, and therefore 
 would not hinder his preferment, but suffered him 
 to go to Cromwell. Such was the envy of the com¬ 
 mittee to him, that just as he was going, that very day, 
 they not willing to let him depart in peace, although 
 they knew he had justly expended all the money 
 he had received of them, yet they called for an 
 account from the beginning of his employment, i 
 which they had often seen in parcels, but believing 
 he could not so readily give it them altogether, 
 they then demanded it. He immediately brought i 
 it forth, and got by it twelve shillings due to him 
 upon the foot thereof, which he intended not to 
 have asked them, but receiving it upon the exhi- | 
 bition of his account, went away smiling at their 
 malice ; which yet would not let him go so, for 
 then Henry Wandall came with a petition to the 
 governor, that he would vindicate the honour of ! 
 the Earl of Essex against Mr. Hooper, whom he 
 accused to have spoken words against him, and 
 done actions to his dishonour. The governor 
 knowing this was but malice, accepted security i 
 for him, which was offered by Mr. Pigott and 
 Major W atson, that he should answer what could 
 be objected against him at any council of war he 
 should be called to*. 
 
 * Ihis Mr. Hooper was undoubtedly a person of sin¬ 
 gular abilities. Mr. Sprigge, in bis Anglia Rediviva, 
 nentions him as serving Sir Thomas Fairfax at the siege | 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 77 | 
 
 Wednesday, Sept, the 25th, 1644, Capt. White 
 went to London, to solicit the committee’s busi¬ 
 ness against the governor, for they were intended 
 to put it upon a fair debate, as was promised. 
 The next day the governor commanded Capt. 
 Barrat’s troop to convoy him towards London, 
 but just as he was going to horse, the committee, 
 contrary to their engagements not to meddle with 
 - any military affairs, commanded them another 
 way, and so he was forced to go without a convoy, 
 although the captain was afforded a whole troop 
 ' to wait on him. 
 
 r Two or three days before the governor went, 
 Chadwick came privately to the governor’s brother 
 and told him, that his conscience would not suffer 
 him to conceal the malicious designs, and that 
 treachery, which he now discovered to be in these 
 men’s oppositions of the governor, and, with many 
 \ insinuations told him they were framing articles 
 ( against the governor, whereof he gave him a copy, 
 which the governor carried to London with him, 
 and showed the lieutenant-colonel the originals 
 in Mason’s and Plumptre’s own hand-writings. 
 Three days after the governor, Col. Thornhagh 
 went to London. That day the governor went, one 
 of the presbyterian ministers, whose name was 
 Goodal, preached the lecture at the great church, 
 with many invectives against governors and arbi¬ 
 trary power, so plainly hinting at the governor 
 that all the church well understood it; but for 
 the committee, he glozed with them, and told 
 them he had nothing to say to them, but to go on 
 in the good way they went. Some months after, 
 this poor man preaching at a living the committee 
 had put him into, was taken by the enemy, and 
 much dejected at it, because he could not hope the 
 governor would exchange him, after his unworthy 
 pulpit railings at him ; but the governor, who 
 hated poor revenges, when his enemy and one of 
 his friends were both in the same prison, and he 
 had but one exchange ready, first procured the 
 minister’s release, and let his own officer stay for 
 the next exchange. Whereupon the man coming 
 home, was struck with remorse, and begged the 
 governor’s pardon, with real acknowledgements 
 j both to himself and others of his sin in supporting 
 faction against the governor; who was told that on 
 his death-bed, for he died before the garrison was 
 dissolved, he expressed to some of the governor’s 
 friends his trouble for having been his enemy. 
 But not only to him, but to many others of his 
 enemies, the governor upon sundry occasions, 
 when they fell into his power to have requited 
 
 1 their mischiefs, instead of vengeance rendered 
 ! them benefits, so that at last his own friends would 
 ! tell him, if they could in justice and conscience 
 j forsake him, they would become his adversaries, 
 for that was the next way to engage him to obli- 
 j gations ; but although his friends, who had greater 
 animosities against his unjust persecutors than he 
 
 I himself, would say these things in anger at his 
 j clemency, his nature was as full of kind gratitude 
 
 to his friends as free from base revenges upon 
 enemies, who either fell down to him by their 
 own just remorse, or were cast under his power 
 by God’s just providence. 
 
 As soon as the governor was gone, the com¬ 
 mittee took all power upon them, and had the 
 impudence to command the lieutenant-colonel, 
 who was deputy-governor, and absolute in his 
 brother’s absence, to draw out his troop : he went 
 to them and told them he was sorry they broke 
 their agreement, but he could not break his trust 
 of his brother’s authority to obey them. Then 
 they feigned a pretence and turned out the go¬ 
 vernor’s quarter-master, who by the governor’s 
 appointment had quartered soldiers at an ale¬ 
 house Mr. Millington had given a protection to, 
 that they should quarter none, upon the account of 
 some relation they had to him, who married one of 
 the daughters of the place. This occasioning some 
 dispute, Cooke the quarter-master had uttered 
 some words, for which they sent for him and cast 
 out great threats, how they would punish him, 
 which frighted his wife, big with child, in that 
 manner that her child died within her, and her 
 own life was in great hazard. The committee 
 then called a hall, and caused the townsmen to 
 bring in horses for dragoons, whereof they voted 
 a regiment to be raised, Chadwick to be the 
 colonel, and Hall and Selby to be captains under 
 him. They took upon them to command the 
 soldiers, and made horrible confusion, by which 
 they often put the garrison in great danger, if 
 the enemy had known their advantage. Among 
 the rest, one night after the guards were set, the 
 captain of the guard, missing the deputy governor 
 to receive the word from him, gave them the same 
 word they had before, till he had found out the 
 governor to receive a new one. Mr. Millington 
 coming by, half flustered, would have had the 
 captain take a word from him, which when the 
 captain refused, he being angry, commanded Capt. 
 Mason’s drums to beat, and set a double guard. 
 The lieutenant-colonel hearing the drums, and 
 having no notice of this command, sent to Mason 
 to command him to forbear drawing any men to 
 the guard, but Mason would not obey him. Besides 
 this, they did a thousand such like things, to pro¬ 
 voke him to give them some colour of complaint, 
 or some advantage against him and his brother, 
 for the carrying on of a wicked design, which 
 they were secretly managing to destroy them ; but 
 God, by a wonderful providence, brought it to light. 
 
 Their conspiracy was to accuse the colonel and 
 his brother as persons that had betrayed the town 
 and castle, and were ready to surrender them to 
 the enemy, which they would pretend to have dis¬ 
 covered, and to have prevented their treachery, 
 by a surprise of the lieutenant-colonel, the castle 
 and the bridges, and all the officers that were 
 faithful to the governor and his friends. Because 
 they had not force in town who would act this 
 villany, they sent to Sir John Gell, in whom they 
 had a great interest, and a man likely enough to 
 promote their wickedness, had they even acquaint¬ 
 ed him with it, as black as it was in the cursed 
 forge of their own hearts ; but to carry their busi¬ 
 ness closely, they sent to tell him they had cause 
 of suspicion that the lieutenant-colonel was false 
 to his trust, and would deliver the castle to the 
 enemy, to prevent which they desired him to assist 1 
 
 1 of Oxford and other places as engineer extraordinary, and 
 j greatly expediting all his enterprises, the rapidity and 
 number of which were surprising: he was at the siege 
 of Ragland-castle, the last garrison that surrendered ; he 
 i came again to Nottingham during Col. Hutchinson’s go- 
 t vemment, and, by the list of the garrison in Deering’s 
 i Nottingham, appears to ha\e continued with Captain 
 Poulton. 
 
 j| 
 
 
 I 
 
70 
 
 them with some men and ammunition ; which 
 ammunition was very secretly conveyed into the 
 town, and the men were ready to march, and 
 quarters taken up for them in Nottingham. The 
 lieutenant-colonel dreamt nothing of the mischief 
 that was hatching against him, when, just at the 
 very time of the execution, there came into Not¬ 
 tingham two gentlemen, whom the parliament em¬ 
 ployed to carry intelligences between the north 
 and the south, and who used to meet at this town. 
 
 Mr. Fleetwood, who came from the south, came 
 immediately up to the castle, and there was fami¬ 
 liarly and kindly treated, as he used to be, by the 
 lieutenant-colonel. This was upon a Saturday 
 night, in the month of October. Mr. Marsh, his 
 correspondent, that came from the north, passing 
 through Derby, was cautioned so by Sir John Gell, 
 that he durst not come up to the castle, but on 
 the Lord’s day sent for Mr. Fleetwood to meet him 
 in the town, who coming to him, he told him what 
 information he had received from Sir John Gell, 
 and for that reason durst not trust himself in the 
 castle. Mr. Fleetwood undertaking for his safety, 
 brought him up to the lieutenant-colonel, and he 
 finding the untruth of their forgeries, told the 
 lieutenant-colonel all the machinations against him; 
 whereupon, on the Monday morning, he went away 
 to London, and sent Mr. Millington word that hav¬ 
 ing understood the suspicion they had of him, he 
 was gone to London, where, if they had anything 
 to accuse him of, they might send after him, and he 
 should be ready to answer it, and in his absence 
 had left Capt. Lomax governor of the garrison. 
 The committee, very much confounded that their 
 wickedness was come to light, resolved to outface 
 the thing, and denied that they had sent to Derby 
 for any men. They said, indeed, it was true that 
 having formerly lent Sir John Gell some powder, 
 they had sent for that back ; but this was not all, 
 for they had also persuaded the master of the 
 magazine that was in the castle to convey, unknown 
 to the lieutenant-colonel, two barrels of powder, 
 with match and bullets suitable, to such place as 
 Chadwick should direct. This he, not dreaming 
 of their evil intention, had condescended to, and 
 sent them to Salisbury’s house, but as soon as the 
 lieutenant-colonel was gone they took what care 
 they could to shuffle up this business, and pre¬ 
 sently despatched Capt. Palmer to London and 
 Lieut. Chadwick to Derby, where he so wrought 
 with Sir John Gell, that he brought back a coun¬ 
 terfeit letter, pretended to have been all that was 
 sent from the committee of Nottingham to him, 
 and another of Sir John Gell’s writing, wherein 
 he disowned all that Mr. Marsh had related of his 
 information ; but God, who would not let them 
 be hid, had so ordered that while matters were 
 thus huddling up at Derby, Sir John Gell’s brother 
 came by chance to Nottingham, and affinned that 
 the committee of Nottingham had sent to his 
 brother for three hundred men to surprise Not¬ 
 tingham castle, which when the committee heard, 
 they sent Capt. Pendock after him the next day 
 to charm him, that he might no more discover 
 the truth in that particular. Also that very day 
 that these intentions of theirs were thus provi¬ 
 dentially brought to light, one of Sir John Gell’s 
 captains was known to be in town, whom Sir John 
 had sent to discover the state of things, and 
 the new quarter-master had been all that day | 
 
 several houses in the 
 
 town. 
 
 When the governor came to London, the com¬ 
 mittee of both kingdoms had appointed a sub-com¬ 
 mittee to hear his business, whereof young Sir 
 Henry Vane had the chair, Mr. William Pierre- 
 pont, Mr. Solicitor St. John, Mr. Recorder, and 
 two of the Scotch commissioners, were nominated 
 for the committee ; before whom the governor’s 
 propositions and the committee’s answers had been 
 read, and when their solicitor, Capt. White, saw 
 they were likely to be cast out as frivolous, he 
 produced some articles which they had formed 
 against the governor, lieutenant-colonel, and Mr. 
 Pigott, but they proved as frivolous as the other, 
 and the gentlemen answered them so clearly that 
 they appeared to be forged out of malice and envy, 
 only to cause delays, there being scarce anything 
 of moment in them, if they had been true, whereas 
 they were all false : and now after they had 
 trod down the fence of shame, and impudently 
 began with articles, there was not the least ridi¬ 
 culous impertinency that passed at Nottingham 
 but they put it into a scrip of paper and presented 
 it as an additional article to the committee ; to 
 each of whom particularly Mr. Millington had 
 written letters, and given them such false impres¬ 
 sions of the governor, and so prepossessed them 
 against him, that was a stranger to them all, that 
 they looked upon him very coldly and slightly, 
 when he made particular addresses to them : but 
 he that scorned to be discouraged with any man’s 
 disregard, from whom he had more reason to 
 have expected all caresses and thankful acknow¬ 
 ledgments of his unwearied fidelity and good ser¬ 
 vices, resolved to pursue his own vindication 
 through all their frowns and cold repulses : these 
 he met with more from Mr. William Pierrepont 
 than from any of the rest, till Mr. Pierrepont 
 perceived the injustice of their prosecution, and 
 then there was no person in the world that could 
 demean himself with more justice, honour, and 
 kindness than he did to the governor, whose in¬ 
 juries became first apparent to him when the i 
 lieutenant-colonel came and told his brother what 
 combinations had been discovered against him at 
 Nottingham, which the governor resenting with 
 great indignation, complained of it to the com- j 
 mittee. The solicitor, White, impudently' denied ) 
 the whole matter, or that ever the committee at 
 Nottingham had had the least suspicion of the 
 governor or his brother, or the least ground of 
 any. When this had been with stilfness and im- ! 
 pudence enough outfaced before the committee, ; 
 Mr. Pierrepont, then fully convinced of their 
 devilish malice, pulled a letter out of his pocket, 
 wherein Mr. Millington made this suggestion to 
 him against the governor and his brother, and 
 desired that he might be armed with power to 
 prevent and suppress them. This would have 
 made others ashamed, but their solicitor was, not- 
 withstanding, impudent and rudely pressing upon I 
 the committee, who, though they were persons of 
 honour, and after they discovered the governor’s ]j 
 innocence, not forward to oppress him, yet as 
 they were statesmen, so were they not so ready 
 to relieve him as they ought to have been, because 1 
 they could not do it without a high reflection upon ! 
 one of their own members, who encouraged all 1 1 
 those little men in their wicked persecution of | 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 taking billet for soldiers in 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 ! lim. They were such exquisite rogues, that all 
 I iihe while some of them betrayed one another to 
 -he governor, and told him, under pretence of 
 t lonesty and conscience, the bottom of their whole 
 iesigns, showed the foul original draughts of their 
 articles, in the men’s own hands that contrived 
 ! them ; and told him how not so much dislike of 
 Him, as covetousness and ambition to advance 
 [ themselves upon his ruins, engaged them thus 
 against him, and made them contrive that villany 
 Jto accuse him and his brother of treachery, and to 
 have seized their garrisons under that pretence, 
 and gotten them to be made prisoners ; and then 
 ,Mr. Millington undertook to have lodged their 
 petitions so in the parliament, that they should 
 i never have been heard and relieved*. Col. 
 Thornhagh, too, was to be wrought out of his 
 command, and they had divided the spoil before 
 .they caught the lions. Millington’s son was 
 If designed to be governor of the castle : the ten 
 I pounds a-week, allowed for the governor’s table, 
 j.so many of the committee-men were to share by 
 j ; forty shillings a-man ; Chadwick was to be colonel 
 : of the town regiment, and Mason major ; White, 
 colonel of the horse regiment, and Palmer, the 
 priest, his major ; and all the governor’s friends 
 L to be turned out, and their places disposed of to 
 creatures of theirs, who, drawn on with these 
 jhopes, were very active to work the governor and 
 his party out of the opinion of all men. They 
 i forgot the public interest in this private quarrel, 
 taking in all the malignant and debauched people 
 that would join with them, to destroy the governor, 
 whom they hated for his unmoved fidelity in his 
 trust, and his severe restriction of lewdness and 
 L vice : but because he protected and favoured 
 ‘ godly men that were sober, although they sepa¬ 
 rated from the public assemblies, this opened 
 wide the mouths of all the priests and all their 
 idolaters, and they were willing enough to let the 
 children of hell cry out with them to make the 
 i louder noise; and as we have since seen the whole 
 cause and party ruined by the same practice, so 
 . at that time the zealots for God and the parlia¬ 
 ment turned all the hate they had to the enemies of 
 both, and called them to assist in executing their 
 malice upon the faithful servant and generous 
 champion of the Lord’s* and his country’s just 
 cause. And now the name of cavalier was no 
 more remembered, Castilian being the term of 
 reproach with which they branded all the go¬ 
 vernor’s friends, and lamentable it was to behold 
 how those wretched men fell away under this 
 temptation, not only from public - spiritedness, 
 but from sobriety and honest moral conver- 
 j sation ; not only conniving at and permitting 
 ! the wickedness of others, but themselves con- 
 I versing in taverns and brothels, till at last 
 Millington and White were so ensnared that 
 they married a couple of alehouse wenches, 
 to their open shame and the conviction of the 
 whole country of the vain lives they led, and 
 ! some reflection on the parliament itself, as much 
 ' as the miscarriage of a member could cast on it, 
 ! when Millington, a man of sixty, professing reli¬ 
 gion, and having but lately buried a religious 
 
 * It is averred in the Hist, of Independ. “ that the active 
 speaking men pack committees, who carry all the busi- 
 i nesses of the house as they please, and when the matter is 
 too had smother it with artificial delays.” 
 
 79 
 
 matronly gentlewoman, should go to an alehouse 
 to take a flirtish girl of sixteen; yet by these 
 ignoble alliances, they much strengthened their 
 faction with all the vain drunken rogues in the 
 town against the governor. Now their first plot 
 had, by God’s providence, been detected, they fell 
 upon others, and set on instruments everywhere, 
 to insinuate all the lies they could, that might 
 render the governor odious to the town and to 
 the horse of the garrison, whom they desired to 
 stir up to petition against him, but could not find 
 any considerable number that would freely do it; 
 therefore they used all the strong motives they 
 could, and told them the governor sought to 
 exercise an arbitrary power over them, and to 
 have all their booties at his own disposal, and 
 other such like things ; by which at length they 
 prevailed with many of Col. Thornhagh’s regiment 
 to subscribe a petition that they might be under 
 the command of the committee, and not of any 
 other person in the garrison. This petition was 
 sent up by Capt. Palmer, and he meeting Mr. 
 Pigott at Westminster-hall, Mr. Pigott, in private 
 discourse with him, began to bewail the scanda¬ 
 lous conversation of certain persons of the commit¬ 
 tee, hoping that he, being familiar with them, might 
 be a means to persuade them to reformation. 
 
 After this, the governor, Col. Thornhagh, Mr. 
 Pigott, and some other, being in a tavern at 
 Westminster, where they dined, Capt. Palmer 
 came to the door, and they bade him come in. 
 Upon discourse, the governor pulled out of his 
 pocket the articles which the committee had put 
 in against him, showed them to Capt. Palmer, and 
 asked him whether he thought it possible that he 
 should, after all his toils and services, have been 
 articled against for such things. Palmer, who 
 had been from the beginning with the governor 
 and knew the falsehood of these accusations, pro¬ 
 fessed he was amazed at them, and that he had 
 not till then heard anything of them. Continuing 
 in further discourse, the governor mentioned an 
 unchristian-like sermon, which Mr. Goodall had 
 preached with invectives against him, in his 
 absence: Palmer undertook the justification of it, 
 with such saucy provocations, that the governor 
 told him, if it had not been more in respect to hi3 
 black coat than his grey, he would have beaten 
 him out of the room, which for his own safety, he 
 advised him to leave: so he went out very angry, 
 and going to Capt. White, told him how Mr. 
 Pigott called him a whore-master, Mr. Millington 
 a drunkard, and Chadwick a knave. White, 
 meeting Mr. Pigott, in the hall, challenged him of 
 these scandals. Mr. Pigott, seeing Palmer not 
 far off, led White to him, and told him he knew 
 that person had been his informer, repeating all 
 he had said to him, and added, that it was in a 
 desire of their reformation, but he would maintain 
 that all the things he spoke were true. Palmer 
 further, in his rage, puts into the committee a 
 paper of reasons why he desired to be exempted 
 from being under the governor, whereof one was, 
 that he had cowardly and unhandsomely behaved 
 himself in an occasion when Palmer’s troop 
 marched out with him to Elston. The governor 
 sent a copy of this paper down to Palmer s own 
 troop, and the lieutenant, cornet, and all the j 
 troopers, sent up a certificate, under their 
 hands, of the falsehood of their captain’s accusa- 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 tion. After this, Palmer came into the garrison, 
 and made a grievous exclamation all over the 
 town against the governor and Mr. Pigott for 
 traducing the ministers, Mr. Millington, and the 
 committee ; adding a false report, that the governor 
 had thrown a trencher at his head; and abusing 
 the pulpit to persuade the people to vindicate 
 them: among other things, he misapplied a place 
 in Nehemiah, where Nehemiah says, « I eat not 
 the governor’s bread, because the fear of the Lord 
 was upon me,” to the governor; that his accept¬ 
 ing a public table, was a mark of the want of the 
 fear of God: and many other such malicious 
 wrestings of scripture did he and his fellow priests 
 at that time practise. The committee of Notting¬ 
 ham, on their side, taking this occasion, called a 
 public hall in the town, where two orations were 
 made by Mr. Millington and Col. Chadwick. Mil¬ 
 lington began with a large enumeration of Chad¬ 
 wick’s worthy actions (known to no man), whereby 
 he merited honour of all men, especially of this 
 town; and then mentioning his own good services 
 for the town, told them how ungratefully they 
 were repaid, by Mr. Pigott, with the scandalous 
 aspersion of drunkards and knaves; and that their 
 singular affections and endeavours for the good of 
 the town had exposed them to this calumny, 
 wherefore they desired the town to join in their 
 justification. Chadwick made just such another 
 speech, and both of them seemed to pass by their 
 own particular, and only to desire the other’s 
 justification ; Chadwick, in his speech, saying that 
 Mr. Pigott’s abuse of Mr. Millington did not only 
 asperse the committee, but even the parliament 
 itself. Capt. Lomax, then deputy governor of the 
 garrison, after they had spoken, stood up, and 
 advised the townsmen that they should forbear to 
 entangle themselves in things they understood not; 
 adding that Mr. Pigott and the gentlemen at 
 London were persons of such honour and prudence, 
 that they would maintain whatever they had 
 spoken of any man. Hereupon Capt. Mason, and 
 two malignant townsmen of his soldiers, began to 
 mutiny, with high insolence, and to lay violent 
 hands on him to thrust him out of the hall, giving 
 him most reproachful terms; but the man being 
 very stout, quieted them, and would not depart 
 till the hall broke up. After this, without acquaint¬ 
 ing the deputy governor, they summoned another 
 hall; but Lomax seeing their inclination to mutiny, 
 forbad it. Then, at ten of the clock at night, 
 they got a common council together, at Mr. 
 Salisbury’s house, and there Mr. Millington 
 again desired they would join in the vindication 
 of himself, the ministers, and the committee, and 
 got about eight of them to subscribe a blank paper. 
 Then the committee, with certain instruments of 
 theirs, appointed rounds to walk the town, per¬ 
 suading some, and threatening others, to set their 
 hands to a petition, which none of them that sub¬ 
 scribed it knew what it was, but they told them it 
 was for the good of the town. 
 
 All this while these petty committee fellows 
 had carried themselves as absolute governors, and 
 Plumptre was now their intimate favourite, and 
 began to vapour that he would have the castle 
 pulled down to re-erect the church, and the fort 
 at the bridges thrown down, and all the arms and 
 soldiers brought into the town. 
 
 But at London, the governor being grown into 
 
 acquaintance with the gentlemeu of the sub¬ 
 committee that were to hear his business, and 
 they perceiving with how much wicked malice he 
 was prosecuted, Sir Henry Vane was so honour¬ 
 able as to give him advice to put his business in 
 such a way as might take away all colour from 
 his enemies; whereupon he put in some propo¬ 
 sitions to the committee of both kingdoms, for the 
 composure of these differences, wherein he was 
 willing to decline all things of his own right, 
 which might be done without prejudice to the 
 public service, and to pass by all the injuries that 
 had been done him; which condescension gave 
 such satisfaction, that forthwith the whole busi¬ 
 ness was determined at the committee of both 
 kingdoms, and the governor sent back to his 
 charge, with instructions drawn up for all parties, 
 and letters written to the officers and soldiers, 
 both of horse and foot, to be obedient; and like¬ 
 wise letters to the mayor of the town and the 
 committee. The governor returning, word was 
 brought to Nottingham, that on Friday night he 
 lay at Leicester ; whereupon the committee, who 
 had heard the determination of things above, got 
 them ready to be gone ; but the soldiers having 
 notice thereof, went to the deputy-governor and 
 entreated him to stop the treasurer j whereupon 
 he and the major of the regiment went to them, 
 and entreated them to stay till the governor came, 
 but to see what instructions he brought with him 
 from the powers above: but when they would not 
 be persuaded fairly, then the deputy peremptorily 
 forbad the treasurer, as he would answer it, not to 
 go ; but he refusing to obey, the deputy told 
 him he should pass on his sword’s point if he 
 went, and accordingly went down to set guards 
 at the Trent bridges ; which being told them, 
 they made haste and fled out at the other end of 
 the town. Millington, Chadwick, Ayscough, Salis¬ 
 bury, and Mason, (whom they had gotten added 
 to the committee to increase their faction), were 
 the committee men, who took with them their new 
 marshal and another of their created officers, l 
 Palmer, two more priests, and a town captain. | 
 The governor was met on the way homewards by 
 some of his officers, and told with what joy his 1 
 garrison and regiment were preparing to enter¬ 
 tain him, in all expressions they could possibly 
 make by volleys of cannon and muskets, and ring- || 
 ing of bells, and all such declarations as used to 
 be made in a public and universal rejoicing ; but 
 the governor, fearing his enemies might not bear 
 such testimonies of love to him, without grief, j 
 sent into the town to desire them to forbear j 
 their kind intentions of giving him so loud a 
 welcome. When he was now near the town, 
 another messenger came to acquaint him, that all i 
 those who would have been grieved at his joyful *ij 
 entertainment were fled, and that those who re- 1 
 mained would be much grieved if he should not 
 be pleased to give them leave to receive him with 
 such demonstrations of their joy as they could 
 make. He now permitted them to do what they 
 pleased, which leave being obtained, every one 
 strove to declare his gladness with all imaginable 
 expressions of love and honour, and all the solem¬ 
 nities the time and place would afford. The 
 governor on his side received them with a cheer¬ 
 ful obliging courtesy to all, and a large bounty to : 
 his loving soldiers, who made that day as great a 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 81 
 
 
 I • festival, as if themselves and their families had 
 ! been redeemed from captivity. The mayor of the 
 town, with his brethren in their scarlets, met him, 
 and told him, if he had been guilty of anything 
 prejudicial to him, he was exceeding sorry for it, 
 i for he infinitely honoured him, and all his errors 
 had been through ignorance or misinformation, 
 j which he should be most ready to repair. That 
 . evening White came home pining with spite and 
 envy at the governor and the gentlemen that 
 ! joined with him, viz. Col. Thornhagh, Mr. Pigott, 
 Lieut.-Col. Hutchinson, Major Widmerpoole, Capt. 
 Lomax, and Alderman James: for as to the 
 j. mayor of the town, notwithstanding his fair pro- 
 j fessions publicly to the governor, White had the 
 j V same night again turned about that weathercock. 
 
 The next day the governor and the committee 
 [ with him sent a command to all the horse in town 
 | to march to the assistance of Derby and Leicester, 
 to fortify a house called Cole-orton, which not 
 j being taken notice of, the governor and Col. Thorn¬ 
 hagh summoned all the horse officers, and declared 
 to them the orders of the committee of both 
 kingdoms, to which they cheerfully promised 
 obedience ; but White being sent for among them, 
 insolently refused to come up to the castle, and 
 bade the governor come down to him, to the com¬ 
 mittee’s chamber; yet upon second thoughts he 
 came up, and the governor took no notice for that 
 time. Monday the governor sent to the mayor 
 to call a hall, but the mayor entreated him to 
 forbear till they saw whether the committee-men 
 ! that ran away would come back, and that he might 
 j go with Capt. White to persuade them; both 
 j which the governor assented to ; but the men 
 i would not return, but went from Derby to London. 
 
 I Then the governor called a general muster, and 
 read to them the instructions he had brought from 
 the committee of both kingdoms, with which all 
 men were exceeding well pleased. But Capt. White 
 1 all this while would not deliver the letters he had 
 
 I to the committee and the mayor of Nottingham. 
 Some few days after word was brought the 
 governor that the new dragoons were come for 
 l ammunition, to march out upon some design he 
 ! was not acquainted with, whereupon he sent to 
 j the guards at the bridges not to suffer them to 
 i pass without his ticket. Immediately after White 
 i came along with them, and being denied to pass, 
 
 | gave the guards such provocative language that 
 they were forced to send for the governor. He 
 | came down and found White in high rage, who 
 gave him all the vile terms and opprobrious 
 I language he could invent, to provoke him to some 
 ; anger upon which he might have taken his advan- 
 tage: but the governor only laughed at his fogue *, 
 and would not let him go till he showed a warrant 
 from the council of war at London, and then he 
 f permitted him, after White had told him that he 
 j would not be commanded by him, and a thousand 
 j such mutinous speeches. As he went towards 
 j London he met the horse coming home from Cole- 
 j j orton, whom he told such lies of the governor’s 
 j usage of him, that they were frighted from.coming 
 j into the garrison, but that Col. Thornhagh pre- 
 | vailed with them to take his engagement, that the 
 j governor should give them no ill-usage. So they 
 I came back, and that week their colonel fell into 
 the enemy’s quarters with them, and took eighty 
 
 * French— Fougue, heat, impetuosity. 
 
 horse, two horse colours, a major and some other 
 officers. The bridge troop also met with Col. 
 Stanhope, governor of Shelfordf, who had two 
 parties, each as many as they; his, where himself 
 was, they routed, and he ran away, while the 
 other party charged them in the rear, upon whom 
 they turned, routed and chased them out of the 
 field, took Lieut.-Col. Stanhope and his ensign, 
 and many other prisoners, with many hoi'se and 
 arms. In the absence of the governor and his 
 brother, the committee had done all they could to 
 discourage and dissipate this troop, and would 
 neither give them money nor provisions, yet, 
 upon hopes of their captain’s return, they kept 
 themselves together, and when the governor came 
 home he recruited them. 
 
 The committee of both kingdoms had sent down 
 at this time an order for all the horse of Notting¬ 
 ham and Derbyshire to join with three regiments 
 of Yorkshire, and quarter about Newark, to 
 straiten the enemy there, and accordingly they 
 l’endezvoused at Mansfield, and from thence 
 marched to Thurgarton, where Sir Roger Cooper 
 had fortified his house, and lined the hedges with 
 musketeers, who, as the troops passed by, shot and 
 killed one Capt. Heywood. Hereupon Col. Thorn¬ 
 hagh sent to the governor, and desired to borrow 
 some foot to take the house. The governor accord¬ 
 ingly lent him three companies, who took the house, 
 and Sir Roger Cooper and his brother, and forty 
 men, in it, who were sent prisoners to Nottingham, 
 where, although Sir Roger Cooper was in great 
 dread to be put into the governor’s hands, whom 
 he had provoked before upon a private occasion, 
 yet he received such a civil treatment from him, 
 that he seemed to be much moved and melted with 
 it. The foot had done all the service, and run all 
 the hazard, in taking the house, yet the booty was 
 all given to the horse: this they had very just 
 reason to resent, but notwithstanding they marched 
 along with them to Southwell, and there were 
 most sadly neglected, and put upon keeping out- 
 guards for the horse, and had no provisions, but 
 the governor was forced to send them some out 
 of his garrison, or else they had been left to 
 horrible distress. Hereupon they sent to the 
 governor to desire they might come home, but 
 upon Col. Thornhagh’s entreaty, and engagement 
 that they should be better used, the governor was 
 content to let them stay a little longer, till more 
 horse came up, which were sent for out of York¬ 
 shire. In the mean time those who were there 
 already did nothing but harass the poor country, 
 and the horse officers were so negligent of their 
 own duty, and so remiss in the government of 
 their soldiers, that the service was infinitely pre¬ 
 judiced, and the poor country miserably distressed. 
 The Nottingham horse, being in their own country, 
 and having their families in and about Notting¬ 
 ham, were more guilty of straggling than any of 
 the rest, and Capt. White’s whole troop having 
 t Here, viz. in the end of the year 1644, Shelford clearly 
 appears to be a garrison for the king; yet Whitelock, 
 p. 96, says, that in July, 1644, Lord Grey of Groby and 
 Sir John Gell had the thanks of the parliament for taking 
 it: this is an evident inaccuracy of Whiteloclc’s, or a 
 very successful puff of Sir John’s. To put it out of doubt, 
 Sprigge, in his Anglia Rediviva, counts it among the 
 king’s garrisons, May, 1645 : and Col. Hutchinson, sup¬ 
 ported by Rossiter, took it in person and by storm a year 
 after that. 
 
 o 
 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 82 
 
 presumed to be away one night when they should 
 have been upon the guard, the Newarkers beat 
 up our quarters, and took almost two whole troops 
 of that regiment. White’s lieutenant, without any 
 leave from the colonel, thereupon posted up to 
 London, and contrived a complaint against the 
 governor, to make him appear guilty of this 
 disorder : but soon after Newark gave them an¬ 
 other alarum, and the parliament horse made so 
 slender an appearance, that the officers, there¬ 
 upon consulting in a council of war, concluded that 
 the design was not to be prosecuted without more 
 force, and for the present broke up their quarters. 
 
 The committee-men that ran away when the 
 governor returned had taken the treasurer away 
 with them, and left neither any money, nor so 
 much as the rent rolls whereby the governor 
 could be instructed where to fetch in any,* * * § but 
 by the prudence and interest of himself and his 
 friends, he procured a month’s pay for the foot, 
 and twenty shillings a man for the horse,+ as 
 soon as he came home, and recruited ail the stores, 
 which the committee had purposely wasted in his 
 absence, and fetched in a small stock of powder 
 they had laid in at Salisbury’s house. While 
 he was thus industriously setting things in order, 
 which they had confounded, they at London were 
 as maliciously active to make more confusion. 
 They contrived many false and frivolous articles 
 and petitions against him, and proceeded to that 
 degree of impudence in desiring alterations, and 
 casting reflections upon the sub-committee itself, 
 that they grew weary of them. Mr. Pierrepont 
 and Sir H. Vane, being now taken notice of as 
 leaders of the Independent faction ,X when those 
 gentlemen, out of mere justice and honour, dis¬ 
 countenanced their envy and malice, they applied 
 themselves to the Presbyterian faction, and in¬ 
 sinuating to them that the justice of those gentle¬ 
 men was partiality to the governor, because he 
 was a protector of the now hated separatists, they 
 prevailed to have Sir Philip Stapleton and Sir 
 Gilbert Garrett, two fierce presbyterians, added 
 to the sub-committee, to balance the other faction, 
 and found this wicked invention not a little advan¬ 
 tageous to them : yet Mr. Hollis, who was a 
 person of honour, did not comply with their 
 factious spirits, but gave the governor all just 
 assistance against their malice which lay in his 
 power.§ But they, quitting all modesty, and press¬ 
 
 * Rent-rolls of sequestrated or forfeited estates. 
 
 t One out of many instances of Col. Hutchinson’s 
 generous devotion to the cause, which brought on him 
 that load of debt so oppressive to him in the reverse of 
 affairs. In pp. 623 and 624 of Rushworth, Thornhagh’s 
 Nottinghamshire horse state that they had served five 
 years, and received barely six shillings a week in all; 
 and that there was 40,000?. due to them. Judge from 
 these two corps, Col. Hutchinson’s being twelve hundred 
 infantry, and two or three troops of dragoons, Thornhagh’s 
 about six hundred horse, what was the general state of 
 the army as to pay! Mr. Sprigge might well say of the 
 troops as he does, “ it was not their pay that pacified 
 them, for had they not had more civility than money, 
 things had not been so fairly managed.” 
 
 i Probably it was the experience these two excellent 
 politicians had of Col. Hutchinson’s abilities and integrity 
 on this trial, which induced them afterwards to take him 
 for their associate. 
 
 § Mrs. Hutchinson, who in other places speaks with 
 much disapprobation of Mr. Hollis, here most candidly 
 gives him his due. 
 
 ing the committee with false affirmations and 
 forgeries, that all men would lay down their arms 
 if the governor were not removed, at length they 
 prevailed, that he was the second time sent for 
 to London to justify himself against them. In 
 that blank, to which they had by fraud and threats 
 procured so many hands, they wrote a petition, 
 alleging that the governor was so generally 
 detested, that if he were not removed all men 
 would fling down their arms ; and the subscriptions 
 they thus abused were those they procured to 
 vindicate Mr. Millington. Salisbury and one 
 Silvester had, for their own profit, gotten a 
 commission to set on foot the excise in the county, 
 and joined with them one Sherwin. These two 
 were such pragmatical knaves, that they justly 
 became odious to all men; and although necessity 
 might excuse the tax in other places, yet here it 
 was such a burthen that no man of any honesty 
 or conscience could have acted in it. For when 
 plundering troops killed all the poor countrymen’s 
 sheep and swine, and other provisions, whereby 
 many honest families were ruined and beggared, 
 these unmerciful people would force excise out of 
 them for those very goods which the other had 
 robbed them of, insomuch that the religious soldiers 
 said they would starve before they would be 
 employed in forcing it, or take any of it for their 
 pay. The governor, being inclined in conscience 
 to assist the poor country, was very active in his 
 endeavours to relieve them from this oppression, 
 which his enemies highly urged in their articles 
 against him. These excisemen came very press- 
 ingly to urge the governor to enforce the payment 
 of it in the town ; he told them before he would 
 use compulsion he would try fair means, and 
 call a hall to see whether the townsmen would 
 be persuaded, which accordingly he did : but 
 when the day came, the excisemen came to the 
 governor and advised him to take a sti'ong guard 
 with him, telling him that the butchers had been 
 whetting their knives, and intended mischief, and 
 had cast out many words intimating a dangerous 
 design. The governor told them he should not 
 augment his usual guard, and could fear nothing, 
 having no intent to do anything that might pro¬ 
 voke them to mutiny. They went again to the 
 men and told them the governor intended to come, 
 with many armed men, to compel them to pay 
 it: whereupon when he came to the hall he found 
 but a very slender appearance, yet those who 
 were there were all fully resolved not to pay it; 
 but the governor wrought with them to represent 
 their reasons, in an humble manner, to the com¬ 
 mittee of both kingdoms, and that there should be 
 a fuller meeting to that purpose the next week, 
 and that in the mean time both parties should 
 forbear any private addresses in this matter. To 
 this the excisemen agreed ; yet notwithstanding 
 the governor took a whole packet of their letters 
 going to London, which when he discovered, he 
 also wrote to his friends in London on behalf of 
 the garrison. The next week, at a full meeting, 
 a petition was signed, which the governor offered 
 the town to have carried, being himself to go up, 
 but they in a compliment refused to give him the 
 trouble, pitching upon Capt. Coates and the town 
 clerk to go up with it. They accordingly went 
 about the time that, after seven weeks’ stay in the 
 garrison, the governor was called again up to 
 
1 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 83 
 
 London, to justify himself against the malicious 
 clamours of his adversaries. When Capt. Coates 
 and the other came to London, they applied them¬ 
 selves to Mr. Millington, who, perceiving that the 
 governor stood for the ease of the garrison, put 
 them into a way to frustrate their own designs, 
 and so they returned home ; and at the sessions, 
 rendering the town an account of their negocia- 
 tions, they told them they found it an impossible 
 thing to get the excise taken off; yet the governor 
 knew a way how to ease them, but they feared he 
 would be discouraged in it, because at his coming 
 up he had found their disaffections expressed 
 against him in a petition to cast him out of his 
 command, “ which,” said the clerk, « you cannot 
 do, for he still is and must be governor; therefore 
 : if any of you have been cheated of your hands, 
 contrary to your intentions and desires, you would 
 do well to testify your honesty, by disclaiming 
 what goes on under your name.” Soon after, these 
 malignants stirred up the soldiers to mutiny, and 
 there being no governor in the garrison that could 
 tell how to order them otherwise, they were 
 appeased with money ; upon which occasion a 
 general muster being called, the major told the 
 soldiers how they were injured at London by a 
 petition, preferred in the name of the whole garri¬ 
 son, to cast the governor out of his command, 
 which if it were not their desire, he wished them 
 to certify the contrary. They all with one voice 
 cried, they desired no other governor: whereupon 
 a certificate to that purpose was drawn up : but 
 when it came to be subscribed, certain of the 
 committee faction went up and do\Vn persuading 
 the companies not to subscribe, and when they 
 found how little they prevailed, they foamed for 
 anger, and such malicious railing, that one of the 
 governor’s soldiers, not able to bear them longer, 
 cried out, “ Why do we suffer these fellows to 
 vapour thus 1 let’s clout them out of the field 
 but the major hearing it, committed him ; and the 
 next morning the certificate went up, subscribed 
 with seven hundred townsmen’s hands. After all 
 was done, the major gave some small sum to the 
 soldiers to drink; and the malicious faction, when 
 they saw they could not hinder this certificate, 
 made another false one of their own, that the 
 major had with crowns apiece hired all these siib- 
 scriptions, with other such like lies, which when 
 they could not make good, ’tis said they retracted 
 their certificate at London. 
 
 The committee at London could never finish 
 the business by reason of the impertinent clamours 
 of the governor’s enemies, therefore at length, 
 
 | wearied with the continual endless papers they 
 had daily brought in, they made an order, wherein 
 | they assigned a certain day for the determination 
 of the power, and in the mean time commanded 
 
 L all matter of crimination on both sides should be 
 , forborne. At the day they both appeared, but 
 Mr. Millington presented a petition of a most 
 
 1 insolent nature, and fresh articles against the 
 p governor, which gave the committee much distaste. 
 
 The petition was, that whereas the committee had 
 ! kept them ten weeks at great charges, they desired 
 a speedy despatch now, according to the proposi- 
 I tions. The committee were much offended at 
 - this, and told them they did them much injury to 
 lay their stay upon them, who five weeks before 
 ] desired them to return, and only leave a solicitor 
 
 for each, and then they refused it; that they had 
 broken their first orders, and given no satisfaction 
 for it, and now also their last, in bringing in articles 
 against the governor. They took it very ill that 
 they, who were plaintiffs, should prescribe to them, 
 who were judges, how to determine the business ; 
 wherefore they ordered that the governor should 
 return and pursue his first instructions, till he 
 received new ones, and that the business should 
 be reported to the house. The governor sent his 
 brother down to take care of the garrison, and 
 staid himself to receive the final determination 
 of the house, where Mr. Millington, through his 
 interest, kept off the report, by several tricks and 
 unjust delays, about three or four months. 
 
 When the lieutenant-colonel came down, the 
 captains were wonderful obedient, and all things 
 pretty quiet, but the governor’s officers were dis¬ 
 couraged at the countenance which was given his 
 enemies, and the impunity of all the crimes of that 
 faction. He having a certain spirit of govern¬ 
 ment, in an extraordinary manner, which was not 
 given to others, carrying an awe in his presence 
 that his enemies could not withstand, the garrison 
 was much disordered by his absence, and in daily 
 peril, although the lieutenant-colonel was as faithful 
 and industrious in managing that charge as any 
 person could be, and as excellent a person, but 
 in a different way from his brother. Firmness 
 and zeal to the cause, and personal valour he had 
 equal, but that vigour of soul which made him 
 invincible against all assaults, and overcame all 
 difficulties he met in his way, was proper to him¬ 
 self alone. The lieutenant-colonel was a man of 
 the kindest heart and the most humble familiar 
 deportment in the world, and lived with all his 
 soldiers as if they had been his brothers, dispens¬ 
 ing with that reverence which was due to him, and 
 living cheerful and merry, and familiar with them, 
 in such a manner that they celebrated him, and 
 professed" the highest love in the world, and would 
 magnify his humility and kindness, and him for 
 it, in a high degree above his brother ; but with 
 all this they grew so presumptuous that, when any 
 obedience was exacted beyond their humours or 
 apprehensions, they would often dare to fail in 
 their duty : whereas the governor, still keeping a 
 greater distance, though with no more pride, pre¬ 
 served an awe that made him to be equally feared 
 and loved, and though they secretly repined at 
 their subjection, yet durst they not refuse it; and, 
 when they came to render it on great occasions, 
 they found such wisdom and such advantage in 
 all his dictates that, their reason being convinced 
 of the benefit of his government, they delighted in 
 it, and accounted it a happiness to be under his 
 command, when any public necessity superseded 
 the mutiny of those private lusts, whereby all 
 men naturally, but especially vulgar spirits, would 
 cast off their bridle, and be their own only 
 rulers. 
 
 As the governor’s absence was the occasion of 
 many neglects in the government, not by his 
 brother’s fault, but the soldiers’, who, wanting of 
 their pay (which while the committee should have 
 been providing, they were spending it in vexatious 
 prosecutions of the governor), and therefore dis¬ 
 contented, and through that careless of their 
 duty; so, on the other side, the cavaliers, who 
 were not ignorant of the dissensions in the garn¬ 
 et 2 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 son, took the advantage, and surprised the lieu¬ 
 tenant-colonel’s fort at the Trent bridges, while 
 he was employed in keeping the castle. His 
 soldiers in his absence lying out of their quarters, 
 had not left above thirty men upon the guard, 
 who were most of them killed, the ensign fighting 
 it out very stoutly, after their entrance, till he 
 died. The lieutenant-colonel was exceedingly 
 afflicted with this loss, but presently applied him¬ 
 self to secure what remained. The whole town 
 was in a sad uproar, and this happening upon a 
 Lord’s day, in the morning, in May 1645, all the 
 people were in such a consternation that they 
 could keep no sabbath that day. Then the lieu¬ 
 tenant-colonel had an experiment of vulgar spirits, 
 for even his own soldiers, who were guilty of the 
 loss of the place by being out of their quarters, 
 began to exclaim against him for a thousand 
 causeless things; and although he laboured amongst 
 them with as much courage and vigour as any 
 man could use, to settle their spirits and regain 
 the place, yet they slighted him most unjustly, 
 and all ci’ied out now to have the governor sent 
 for, as if he himself had been their castle. 
 
 Immediately after the unhappy surprise of the 
 bridges, the lieutenant-colonel sent away to his 
 brother a post, who, by some of the lower fords, 
 got over the water, and carried his sad news to 
 London. A trumpet was sent to the bridges, and 
 obtained the dead bodies of the soldiers who were 
 slain at the surprise, and they were brought up 
 to the town in carts and buried. There was about 
 twenty of them, very good and stout men, though 
 it availed them not in their last need, when a 
 multitude had seized them unawares. All that 
 day a body of the enemy faced the town, which, 
 through terrors without and discouragements and 
 discontents within, was in a very sad posture. 
 The malignant faction against the governor im¬ 
 proved even this occasion, and suggested to the 
 town that the castle would be the cause of their 
 ruin ; that the governor and his soldiers would 
 secure themselves there, and leave the town un¬ 
 defended ; and because the lieutenant-colonel was 
 very strict that none of the castle soldiers should 
 lie out of then* quarters, lest that place might be 
 surprised as well as the other, the townsmen 
 renewed their railings against the castle, and 
 their malice to all that were in it; but the lieu¬ 
 tenant-colonel, regarding none of their unjust 
 railings, by God’s blessing upon his vigilance, 
 kept the town and castle till his brother’s return. 
 
 As soon as the news came to the governor at 
 London, he thought it time to throw off that 
 patience with which he had hitherto waited at 
 great expense, and went to the parliament house 
 before the house sat, and there acquainted the 
 speaker what was befallen at Nottingham, desiring 
 he might be called to make a relation of it in the 
 open house, or else told the speaker, though he 
 died for it, he would press in and let them know 
 how. much the cause suffered by the indirect prac¬ 
 tices, which were partially connived at in some 
 of their members. The speaker seeing him so 
 resolved, procured him, when the house was set, 
 to be called in ; and there he told them how their 
 fort was lost, and, for aught he knew, the garrison, 
 by that time, which was no more than what he 
 had long expected, through the countenance that 
 was, by one of their members, given to a malig¬ 
 
 nant faction, that obstructed all the public service, 
 disturbed all the honest soldiers and officers in 
 their duty, and spent the public treasury to carry 
 on their private malice. He further told them 
 how dishonourable, as well as destructive to their 
 cause, it was, that their members should be pro¬ 
 tected in such unjust prosecutions, and should 
 make the privilege of the house their shelter to 
 oppress the most active and faithful of their ser¬ 
 vants. This and many other things he told them 
 with such boldness, that many of the guilty mem¬ 
 bers had a mind to have committed him, but with 
 such truth and convincing reason, that all those 
 of more generous spirits were much moved by it, 
 and angry that he had been so injuriously treated, 
 and desired him to take post down and to use all 
 means to regain the place, and gave him full 
 orders to execute his charge without disturbance. 
 From that time Mr. Millington so lost his credit, 
 that he never recovered the esteem he formerly 
 had among them; and, after that time, the 
 governor’s enemies, perceiving they were not 
 able to mate him, made no more public attempts, 
 though they continued that private malice, which 
 was the natural product of that antipathy there 
 was, between his virtues and their vices. Neither 
 was it his case only; almost all the parliament 
 garrisons were infested and disturbed with like 
 factious little people, insomuch that many worthy 
 gentlemen were wearied out of their commands, 
 and oppressed by a certain mean sort of people 
 in the house, whom, to distinguish from the more 
 honourable gentlemen, they called Worsted Stock¬ 
 ing Men. Some as violently curbed their com¬ 
 mittees, as the committees factiously molested 
 them. Nor was the faction only in particular 
 garrisons, but the parliament house itself began 
 to fall into the two great oppositions of presbytery 
 and independency: and, as if discord had infected 
 the whole English air with an epidemical heart¬ 
 burning and dissension in all places, even the 
 king’s councils and garrisons were as factiously 
 divided. The king’s commissioners and the 
 governor at Newark fell into such high discon¬ 
 tents, that Sir Richard Biron, the governor, was 
 changed, and Sir Richard Willis put into his 
 place. This accident of the bridges put an end 
 to that vexatious persecution wherewith the 
 governor had had many sore exercises of his 
 wisdom, patience, and courage, and many expe- ] 
 riences of God’s mercy and goodness, supporting 
 him in all his trials, and bearing him up against 
 all discouragements, not only to stand without the 
 least dejection himself, but to be able to hold up 
 many others, who were ready to sink under the 
 burthen of unrighteousness and oppression, where 
 they expected just thanks and rewards. It cost 
 the governor above three hundred pounds to de¬ 
 fend himself against their calumnies, renewed j 
 forgeries, and scandals, laid upon him ; but God 
 was with him in all in a wonderful manner, 
 bringing truth to light through all the clouds of 
 envy that sought to obscure it, and making his 
 innocence and uprightness to shine forth as the 
 noonday, justifying him even in the eyes of his 
 enemies, and covering them with shame and con¬ 
 fusion of face. They maintained their prosecu¬ 
 tion of him out of the public stock, and were not 
 called to account for so mis-spending it. Mr. 
 Millington, perceiving how much he had lost him- 
 
I 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 85 
 
 I 
 
 self by it, applied himself to seek a reconciliation 
 i by flattering letters and professions of conviction 
 and repentance of his unjust siding with those 
 j men. The governor, who was of a most recon¬ 
 cilable nature, forgave him, and ever after lived 
 in good friendship with him*. Others of them 
 also afterwards, when they saw the governor out 
 of their power, some through fear, and others 
 overcome with his goodness, submitted to him, 
 who lived to see the end of them all, part of them 
 dying before any disgrace or great sorrows over¬ 
 took him, and those who survived renouncing and 
 apostatising from their most glorious engage¬ 
 ments, and becoming guilty of those crimes for 
 i which they falsely accused him, while he remained 
 ; firm, and, dying, sealed up the profession of his 
 life ; in all the future difficulties of which he was 
 still borne up with the experience of God’s good¬ 
 ness and manifold protections. 
 
 The governor being dismissed from the parlia¬ 
 ment, immediately took post, and, coming through 
 Northampton, met his old engineer, Hooper, and 
 brought him with him to Nottingham, where, by 
 God’s mercy, he arrived safe about three days 
 after the loss of the bridges, and was welcomed 
 : as if safety and victory, and all desirable bless- 
 | ings, had come in his train. His presence rein¬ 
 forced the drooping garrison, and he immediately 
 consulted how to go about regaining the fort. 
 To this purpose, and to hinder the enemy from 
 having an inlet into the town by the bridges, he 
 made a little fort on the next bridge, and put a 
 lieutenant and thirty men into it, thereby inclosing 
 those in the fort the enemy had surprised, whom 
 he resolved to assault on the town side, having 
 thus provided that their friends should not come 
 from the other side + to help them. But those of 
 Newark understanding this, came as strong as 
 they could one morning, and assaulted the little 
 new fort, where the Lieut. Hall, failing of that 
 courage which he had professed when he begged 
 I the honour of keeping it, gave it up, which the 
 ; governor seeing on the other side, was exceed- 
 i ingly vexed, and marched up to the bridge to 
 j assault them in that fort, but found that they had 
 only stormed the other little fort to make their 
 own way to be gone, and that they had made 
 i shift to get to their friends upon the ribs of two 
 j broken arches, which, when they had served to 
 help their passage, they pulled up, to hinder 
 ] pursuit after them : and thus, in a month’s space, 
 j God restored to the governor the fort which was 
 lost in his absence, and he new fortified the 
 ; place, and repaired the bridges, whereby the 
 great market out of the vale was again brought 
 | into the town, to their exceeding joy and benefit. 
 
 This summer there was another kind of pro- 
 
 t 1 gress made in the war than had been before, and 
 the new parliament army prosecuting it so much 
 , in earnest, that they made a show to block up 
 
 * As Mr. Millington will figure no more in this history, 
 p the reader is here informed that he finished his career, 
 
 I after becoming one of the judges who sentenced Charles 
 j. the First, by coming in upon proclamation, making a 
 j pitiful recantation, and being sentenced to perpetual 
 ] imprisonment. 
 
 t To understand this rightly it is necessary to be in- 
 I formed, that in approaching Nottingham from the south 
 j there is a very wide valley, through which the Trent and 
 the Lene run in several branches, over which are bridges 
 united by a causeway. 
 
 the king in his main garrison at Oxford; he breaks 
 out, and, joining with Prince Rupert’s horse, came, 
 after several attempts otherwhere, to Leicester, 
 which he took by storm. The loss of this town 
 was a great affliction and terror to all the neigh¬ 
 bouring garrisons and countries; whereupon Fair¬ 
 fax closely attended the king’s motions, came 
 within a few days and fought with the king, and 
 overcame him in that memorable battle at Naseby, 
 where his coach and cabinet of letters were taken; 
 which letters being carried to London were printed, 
 and manifested his falsehood, when, contrary to 
 his professions, he had endeavoured to bring in 
 Danes and Lorrainers, and Irish rebels, to subdue 
 the good people here, and given himself up to be 
 governed by the queen in all affairs both of state 
 and religion. After this fight Fairfax took again 
 the town of Leicester, and went into the west, 
 relieved Taunton, took Bristol, and many other 
 garrisons. West Chester also and other places 
 were taken that way. *- Meanwhile the king, hav¬ 
 ing coasted about the countries, came at last to 
 Newark, and there his commanders falling out 
 among themselves, he changed the governor, 
 and put the Lord Bellasis into the place, and 
 went himself to Oxford, where he was at last 
 blocked up. 
 
 When Sir Thomas Fairfax was made chief 
 general, Poyntz was made major-general of the 
 northern counties, and a committee of war was 
 set up at York, whereof Col. Pierrepont, by his 
 brother’s procurement, was appointed one, and 
 pretty well satisfied, as thinking himself again 
 set above Col. Hutchinson, because all the northern 
 garrisons were to receive orders from that com¬ 
 mittee: but the governor, heeding not other men’s 
 exaltations or depressions, only attended his own 
 duty. About the latter end of this summer Poyntz 
 came to Nottingham with all the horse that could 
 be gathered in the neighbouring counties. He 
 had before marched with them and the Nottingham 
 regiment in Cheshire, and brought several gentle¬ 
 men prisoners into the garrison of Nottingham, 
 who had been taken in divers encounters. When 
 he marched out, Palmer, the priest, not daring to 
 venture himself in the field, laid down his com¬ 
 mission when he saw that there was now no con¬ 
 nivance to be found at disobeying commands. 
 
 By reason of the rout at Naseby, and the sur¬ 
 render of Carlisle to the Scots, and several other 
 garrisons, the broken forces of the cavaliers had 
 all repaired to Newark, and that was now become 
 the strongest and best fortified garrison the king 
 had, and Poyntz was ordered to quarter his horse 
 about it, till the Scots should come on the other 
 side, and besiege it. At that time also, the king 
 himself was there J. The governor having in 
 formed Poyntz how prejudicial it would be to his 
 design to suffer those little garrisons in the vale at 
 Shelford and Wiverton to remain, it was agreed 
 that all the forces should take them in their way. 
 But the governor having obtained permission of 
 Poyntz through a respect he had to the family, 
 sent to Col. Philip Stanhope, governor of Shelford, 
 a letter to persuade him to surrender the place he 
 could not hold, and to offer to obtain honour- 
 
 ^ Having come hither from Wales with a body of three 
 thousand men ; he staid till, fearing to be besieged by the 
 Scots, who were approaching, he went away by night to 
 Oxford, Nov. 6, 1645. 
 
86 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 able terms for him, if he would hearken to pro¬ 
 positions. Stanhope returned a very scornful, 
 huffing reply, in which one of his expressions was 
 that he should lay Nottingham Castle as flat as a 
 pancake ; and such other bravadoes, which had 
 been less amiss if he had done anything to make 
 them good. Hereupon, the whole force marched 
 against the place, and the several posts were 
 assigned to the several colonels. The governor, 
 according to his own desire, had that which seemed 
 most difficult assigned to him, and his quarters 
 that night appointed in Shelford town. When he 
 came thither, a few of Shelford soldiers were 
 gotten into the steeple of the church, and from 
 thence so played upon the governor’s men that 
 they could not quietly take up their quarters. 
 There was a trap-door that went into the belfry, 
 and they had made it fast, and drawn up the ladder 
 and the bell-ropes, and regarded not the governor’s 
 threatening them to have no quarter if they came 
 not down, so that he was forced to send for straw, 
 and fire it, and smother them out. Hereupon, 
 they came down, and among them there was a 
 boy who had marched out with the governor’s 
 company, when he went first against Newark, and 
 carried himself so stoutly, that Capt. Wray begged 
 him for a footboy ; and when his troop was once 
 taken by the enemy, this boy, being taken among 
 them, became one of their soldiers. The governor 
 making him believe he should be hanged imme¬ 
 diately for changing his party, and for holding out 
 to their disturbance, where he could not hope for 
 relief, the boy begged he might be spared, and 
 offered to lead them on to a place where only they 
 could enter, where the palisado was unfinished. 
 The governor, without trusting to him, considered 
 the probability of his information, kept him under 
 guard, and set him in the front of his men, and he 
 accordingly proved to have told them truth in all 
 that he had said, and did excellent good service, 
 behaving himself most stoutly. The governor 
 being armed, and ready to begin the assault, when 
 the rest were also ready, Capt. White came to him, 
 and, notwithstanding all his former malicious pro¬ 
 secutions, now pretends the most tender care and 
 love that could be declared, with all imaginable 
 flattery, and persuades the governor not to hazard 
 himself in so dangerous an attempt, but to consider 
 his wife and children, and stand by among the 
 horse, but by no means to storm the place in his 
 own person. Notwithstanding all his false in¬ 
 sinuations, the governor perceived his envy at that 
 honour which his valour was ready to reap in this 
 encounter, was exceeding angry with him, and 
 went on upon the place. This being seated on a 
 flat, was encompassed with a very strong bulwark, 
 and a great ditch without, in most places wet at 
 the bottom, so that they within were very con¬ 
 fident, there being no cannon brought against 
 them, to hold it out ; because, also a broken 
 regiment of the queen’s, who were all papists, were 
 come in to their assistance. A regiment of Lon¬ 
 doners were appointed to storm on the other side, 
 and the governor, at the same time, began the 
 assault at his post. His men found many difficul¬ 
 ties more than they expected : for, after they had 
 filled up the ditches with faggots, and pitched the 
 scaling-ladders, they were twenty staves too short, 
 and the enemy, from the top of the works, threw 
 down logs of wood, which would sweep off a whole 
 
 ladder full of men at once ; the lieutenant-colonel 
 himself was once or twice so beaten down. The 
 governor had ordered other musketeers to beat 
 off those men that stood upon the top of the works, 
 which they failed of, by shooting without good aim ; 
 but the governor directed them better, and the 
 Nottingham horse dismounting, and assailing with 
 their pistols and headpieces, helped the foot to 
 beat them down from the top of the work, all, 
 except one stout man, who stood alone, and did 
 wonders in beating down the assailants, which the 
 governor being angry at, fetched two of his own 
 musketeers, and made them shoot, and he imme¬ 
 diately fell, to the great discouragement of his 
 fellows. Then the governor himself first entered, 
 and the rest of his men came in as fast as they 
 could. But while his regiment was entering on 
 this side, the Londoners were beaten off on the 
 other side, and the main force of the garrison 
 turned upon him. The cavaliers had half moons 
 within, which were as good a defence to them as 
 their first works ; into these, the soldiers that 
 were of the queen’s regiment were gotten, and 
 they in the house shot out of all the windows. 
 The governor’s men, as soon as they got in, had 
 taken the stables and all their horses, but the 
 governor himself was fighting with the captain of 
 the papists and some others, who, by advantage of 
 the half moon and the house, might have prevailed 
 to cut off him, and those that were with him, which 
 were not many. The enemy being strengthened 
 by the addition of those who had beaten off the 
 assailants on the other side, were now trying their 
 utmost to vanquish those that were within. The 
 lieutenant-colonel, seeing his brother in hazard, 
 made haste to open the drawbridge, that Poyntz 
 might come in with his horse, which he did, but 
 not before the governor had killed that gentleman, 
 who was fighting with him, at whose fall his men 
 gave way. Poyntz seeing them shoot from the 
 house, and apprehending the king might come to 
 their relief, when he came in, ordered that no 
 quarter should be given. And here the governor 
 was in greater danger than before, for the strangers 
 hearing him called governor, were advancing to 
 have killed him, but that the lieutenant-colonel, 
 who was very watchful to preserve him all that 
 day, came in to his rescue, and scarcely could 
 persuade them that it was the governor of Not¬ 
 tingham, because he, at the beginning of the storm, 
 had put off a very good suit of armour that he 
 had, which being musket-proof, was so heavy that 
 it heated him, and so he would not be persuaded 
 by his friends to wear anything but his buff coat. 
 The governor’s men, eager to complete their vic¬ 
 tory, were forcing their entrance into the house ; 
 meanwhile, Rossiter’s men came and took away 
 all their horses, which they had taken when they 
 first entered the works, and won the stables, and 
 left in the guard of two or three, while they were 
 pursuing their work. The governor of Shelford, 
 after all his bravadoes, came but meanly off: ’tis 
 said he sat in his chamber, wrapped up in his 
 cloak, and came not forth that day; but that 
 availed him not, for how or by whom it is not 
 known, but he was wounded and stripped, and 
 flung upon a dunghill. The lieutenant-colonel, 
 after the house was mastered, seeing the disorder 
 by which our men were ready to murder one 
 another, upon the command Poyntz had issued to 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON._ W 
 
 give no quarter, desired Poyntz to cause the 
 slaughter to cease, which was presently obeyed, and 
 about seven score prisoners saved. While he was 
 thus busied, inquiring what was become of the 
 governor, he was shown him naked upon the 
 dunghill ; whereupon, the lieutenant-colonel called 
 for his own cloak, and cast it over him, and sent 
 him to a bed in his own quarters, and procured 
 him a surgeon. Upon his desire, he had a little 
 priest, who had been his father’s chaplain, and 
 was one of the committee faction ; but the man 
 was such a pitiful comforter, that the governor, 
 who was come to visit him, was forced to under¬ 
 take that office : but though he had all the supplies 
 they could always give him, he died the next day. 
 The house, which belonged to his father the Earl 
 of Chesterfield, was that night burnt, none certainly 
 knowing by what means, whether by accident or 
 on purpose ; but there was most ground to believe 
 that the country people, who had been sorely in¬ 
 fested by that garrison, to prevent the keeping it 
 by those who had taken it, purposely set it on 
 fire. If the queen’s regiment had mounted their 
 horses, and stood ready upon them, when our men 
 entered, they had undoubtedly cut them all off, 
 but they standing to the works, it pleased God to 
 lead them into that path he had ordained for their 
 destruction, who, being papists, would not receive 
 quarter, nor were they much offered it, being 
 killed in the heat of the contest, so that not a man 
 of them escaped. 
 
 The next day, our party went to Wiverton, a 
 house of the Lord Chaworth’s, and that, terrified 
 with the example of the other, yielded upon terms, 
 and was by order pulled down, and rendered in¬ 
 capable of being any more a garrison. 
 
 Poyntz now quartered all his horse in the towns 
 about Newark, and in regard he had no peculiar 
 regiment of his own, the governor’s regiment 
 served him for his guards. The Scots also came 
 and quartered on the other side of the town, 
 towards the north. 
 
 All that winter the governor lay at the Leaguer, 
 and about Christmas time, writs were sent down 
 for new elections to fill up the parliament. There 
 being a burgess-ship void at Nottingham, the town 
 would needs, in a compliment, make the governor 
 free, in order to an election of him for the parlia¬ 
 ment. Mr. Francis Pierrepont hearing this, wrote 
 to the governor to desire that he would rather 
 come into his father’s place in the county, and 
 give him his assistance in this, as he should engage 
 his own and all his friends’ interest for him in the 
 county. The governor, who was ever ready to 
 requite injuries with benefits, employed his interest 
 in the town, to satisfy the gentleman’s desire, and 
 having very many that had voices in his regiment, 
 he sent for them all home the night before the 
 day of election ; which had like to have been a 
 very sad one, but that by the mercy of God, and 
 the courage of Poyntz, and the lieutenant-colonel, 
 and Capt. Poulton, it had not so bad event. The 
 Newarkers, hearing that so many of the regiment 
 were away, fell into their quarters, and most of 
 the men being surprised, were rather endeavour¬ 
 ing flight than resistance, when the lieutenant- 
 colonel and Capt. Poulton rallied all they could 
 find, lined some pales with musketeers, and beat 
 the enemy again out of the quarters, and Poyntz, 
 mounting with as many horse as were about him, 
 
 which was very few, followed them in the night 
 up to the very works of Newark. Some loss there 
 was in the quarters, but nothing considerable ; 
 some soldiers ran away home, and brought the 
 governor word they were all cut off, but his brother 
 sent a messenger to acquaint him the contrary. 
 Hereupon, immediately after the election, he re¬ 
 turned back again with his men. Not long after, 
 the elections were made for the county, who 
 all pitched upon the governor in his father’s 
 room. White, whose envy never died, used all 
 the endeavours he could to have hindered it, 
 but when he saw he could do no harm, with a sad 
 heart, under a false face, he came and took his 
 part of a noble dinner the new knights had pro¬ 
 vided for the gentlemen of the country. Without 
 any competition Mr. Hutchinson had the first 
 voice, in the room of his ‘father, and Mr. Pigott 
 the second, in the room of Mr. Sutton, now a 
 commissioner at Newark. About the same time, 
 Col. Thornhagh was chosen burgess for the town 
 of Retford ; but none of them went up to their 
 places in parliament till the siege of Newark was 
 finished. 
 
 Poyntz drew a line about the town, and made a 
 very regular intrenchment and approaches in such 
 a soldier-like manner, as none of them who at¬ 
 tempted the place before had done. Most of that 
 winter they lay in the field, and the governor, 
 carried on by the vigour and greatness of his 
 mind, felt no distemper then by that service, 
 which all his captains and the soldiers themselves 
 endured worse than he. Besides daily and hourly 
 providences, by which they were preserved from 
 the enemy’s cannons and sallies, there were some 
 remarkable ones, by which God kept the gover¬ 
 nor’s life in this Leaguer. Once as Poyntz and he 
 and another captain were riding to view some 
 quarter of the town, a cannon bullet came whizzing 
 by them, as they were riding all abreast, and the 
 captain, without any touch of it, said he was killed; 
 Poyntz bid him get off, but he was then sliding 
 down from his horse, slain by the wind of the 
 bullet ; they held him up till they got off from the 
 place, but the man immediately turned black all 
 over. Another time the governor was in his tent, 
 and by chance called out; when he was scarce 
 out of it, a cannon bullet came and tore up the 
 whole tent, and killed the sentinel at the door. 
 But the great peril, wherein all of the English 
 side were, was the treachery of the Scots, which 
 they had very good reason to apprehend might 
 have been the cutting off of all that force. Sir 
 Thomas Fairfax had now besieged Oxford, and 
 the king was stolen out of the town and gone in 
 disguise, no man knew whither, but at the length 
 he came into the Scots army. They had before 
 behaved themselves very oddly to the English, and 
 been taking sundry occasions to pick quarrels, 
 when at the last certain news was brought to the 
 English quarters that the king was come to the 
 Scots, and by them received at Southwell. The 
 English could then expect nothing but that the 
 Scots, joining with those that were in Newark, 
 would fall upon them, who were far inferior in 
 number to the other, and therefore they all pre 
 pared themselves, as well as they could, to defend 
 themselves in their trenches. The governor had 
 then very fine horses at the Leaguer, which he 
 sent home to the garrison ; but. while they were 
 
83 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 in expectation of being thus fallen upon, the king 
 had more mind to be gone, and because the Scots 
 knew not how to break up their quarters while the 
 town was not taken, the king sent to my Lord 
 Bellasis, the governor of Newark, to surrender up 
 the place immediately, which he did upon pretty 
 handsome terms, but much discontented that the 
 king should have no more regard tu them who had 
 been so constant to his service *. The governor 
 with his regiment was appointed to receive the 
 town and the arms, and to quarter in it; where 
 now he went upon the greatest danger of all, for 
 the town was all over sadly infected with the 
 plague ; yet it so pleased God that neither he nor 
 any of these fresh men caught the infection, which 
 was so raging there that it almost desolated the 
 place. 
 
 Whether the king’s ill counsel or destiny led 
 him, he was very failing in this action, for had he 
 gone straight up to the parliament and cast him¬ 
 self upon them, as he did upon the Scots, he had 
 in all probability ruined them, who were highly 
 divided between the presbyterian and independent 
 factions ; but in putting himself into the hands of 
 their mercenary Scotch army, rather than the par¬ 
 liament of England, he showed such an embittered 
 hate to the English nation, that it turned many 
 hearts against him. The Scots in this business 
 were very false both to the parliament and the 
 king. For them to receive and carry away the 
 king’s person with them, when they were but a 
 hired army, without either the consent or know¬ 
 ledge of the parliament, was a very false carriage 
 of them ; but besides that, we had certain evidences 
 that they were prepared, and had an intent, to 
 have cut off the English army who beleaguered 
 Newark, but that God changed their counsels and 
 made them take another course, which was to 
 carry the king to Newcastle, where they again sold 
 him to the parliament for a sum of money. 
 
 The country now being cleared of all the enemy’s 
 garrisons, Col. Hutchinson went up to London to 
 attend his duty there, and to serve his country as 
 faithfully, in the capacity of a senator, as he had 
 before in that of a soldier. When he came there, 
 he found a very bitter spirit of discord and envy 
 raging, and the presbyterian faction, of which were 
 most of those lords and others that had been laid 
 aside by the self-denying ordinance, endeavouring 
 a violent persecution, upon the account of con¬ 
 science, against those who had in so short a time 
 accomplished, by God’s blessing, that victory which 
 he was not pleased to bestow on them. Their 
 directory of worship was at length sent forth for a 
 three years’ trial ; and such as could not conform 
 to it marked out with an evil eye, hated and per¬ 
 secuted, under the name of separatist. Col. 
 Hutchinson, who abhorred that malicious zeal and 
 imposing spirit which appeared in them, was soon 
 taken notice of for one of the independent faction +, 
 [whose heads were accounted Pierrepont, Vane, 
 St. Johns, and some few other gran¬ 
 dees, being men that excelled in wisdom and 
 
 utterance, and the rest believed to adhere to them 
 only out of faction : as if those who did not vain- 
 gloriously lay out themselves without necessity, 
 but chose rather to hear and vote, had had no 
 understanding of right and wrong, but from the 
 dictates of these great oracles !] Though, to speak 
 the truth, they very little knew Col. Hutchinson, 
 that could say he was of any faction, for he had a 
 strength of judgment able to consider things him¬ 
 self and propound them to his conscience ; which 
 was so upright that the veneration of no man’s 
 person alive, nor the love of the dearest friend in 
 the world, could make him do the least thing, 
 without a full persuasion that it was his duty so 
 to act. He very well understood men’s gifts and 
 abilities, and honoured those most whom he 
 believed to manage them with most uprightness of 
 soul for God’s glory and the good of his country, 
 and was so far from envying the just renown any 
 man acquired, that he rejoiced in it. He never 
 was any man’s sectary, either in religious or civil 
 matters, farther than he apprehended them to 
 follow the rules of religion, honour, and virtue ; 
 nor any man’s antagonist, but as he opposed that 
 which appeared to him just and equal. If the 
 greatest enemy he had in the world had pro¬ 
 pounded anything profitable to the public, he 
 would promote it ; whereas some others were to 
 blame in that particular, and chiefly those of the 
 presbyterian faction, who would obstruct any good 
 rather than those they envied and hated should 
 have the glory of procuring it ; the sad effects of 
 which pride grew at length to be the ruin of the 
 most glorious cause that ever was contended for. 
 
 At the first many gentlemen, eminent in gifts and 
 acquirements, were as eminent in zealous improve¬ 
 ment of them, for the advantage of God’s and their 
 country’s interest, whereby they obtained just 
 glory and admiration among all good men ; but 
 while the creature was so magnified, God, that was 
 the principal author, was not looked upon, and 
 gave them therefore up to become their own and 
 others’ idols, and so to fall. 
 
 And now it grew to a sad wonder, that the 
 most zealous promoters of the cause were more 
 spitefully carried against their own faithful armies, 
 by whom God had perfected their victory over 
 their enemies, than against the vanquished foe ; 
 whose restitution they henceforth secretly endea¬ 
 voured, by all the arts of treacherous, dissembling 
 policy, only that they might throw down those 
 whom God had exalted in glory and power to 
 resist their tyrannical impositions. At that time, 
 and long after, they prevailed not, till that pious 
 people too began to admire themselves for what 
 God had done by them, and to set up themselves 
 above their brethren, and then the Lord humbled 
 them again beneath their conquered vassals. 
 
 So long as the army only resisted unjust impo¬ 
 sitions, and remained firm to their first pious 
 engagement, Mr. Hutchinson adhered to that 
 party which protected them in the parliament- 
 house. His attendance there, changing his cus¬ 
 tom of life into a sedentary employment, less 
 suitable to his active spirit, and more prejudicial 
 to his health, he fell into a long and painful sick¬ 
 ness which many times brought him near the 
 grave, and was not perfectly cured in four years. 
 The doctors could not find a name for it; but at 
 the length resolved upon the running gout, and a j 
 
 * Among the names of those who signed the capitu¬ 
 lation on the part of the parliament (as it appears in 
 Rushworth) are those of Col. Hutchinson and Col. 
 Twissleton. 
 
 t All that is contained between these two brackets had 
 lines struck through it in the manuscript, and one of the 
 names defaced. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 89 
 
 cure proper for that disease being practised on 
 him, took effect. 
 
 The truth is, his great mind so far surmounted 
 the frailty of his flesh, that it would never yield to 
 the tenderness of his constitution, nor suffer him 
 to feel those inconveniences of martial toils, which 
 often cast down his captains, men of more able 
 bodies and healthful complexions, while the busi- 
 | ness was in hand ; but when that was finished he 
 j found, what he had not leisure to consider before, 
 j that his body’s strength was far unequal to the 
 ! vigour of his soul. 
 
 After the surrender of Newark, Nottingham 
 1 town and castle was continued a garrison for some 
 time ; between this and his greater employment 
 at London, the governor divided himself. Mean¬ 
 while, upon the 15th day of July, 1646, proposi¬ 
 tions were sent to the king, then with - the Scots 
 at Newcastle, little higher than those which had 
 been made him at Uxbridge, but he wove out 
 delays and would not assent to them, hoping a 
 greater advantage by the difference between the 
 two nations, and the factions in the city and par¬ 
 liament, which both he and all his party employed 
 their utmost industry to cherish and augment. 
 Both parliaments perceiving this, and not yet 
 senseless of approaching destruction from the com¬ 
 mon enemy, began to be cemented by the king’s 
 averseness to peace, and to consider how to settle 
 the kingdoms without him, and when they had 
 | agreed that the Scots should deliver up the English 
 garrisons for a certain sum of money, it fell into 
 f debate how to dispose of the king’s person ; where 
 the debate was, not who should, but who should 
 I not have him. At the length, about January of 
 the same year, two hundred thousand pounds was 
 carried down by part of the army to Newcastle, 
 and upon the payment of it, the Scots delivered 
 their garrisons to the soldiers, and the king to 
 certain commissioners of both houses of parlia¬ 
 ment, who conducted him honourably to his own 
 manor of Holmby, in Northamptonshire. 
 
 During this time Sir Thomas Fairfax himself 
 lay at Nottingham, and the governor was sick in 
 the castle. The general’s lady was come along 
 with him, having followed his camp to the siege 
 of Oxford, and lain at his quarters all the while he 
 abode there. She was exceedingly kind to her 
 husband’s chaplains, independent ministers, till 
 the army returned to be nearer London, and then 
 the presbyterian ministers quite changed the lady 
 into such a bitter aversion against them, that they 
 could not endure to come into the general’s pre¬ 
 sence while she was there, and the general had an 
 unquiet, unpleasant life with her, who drove away 
 from him many of those friends, in whose conver¬ 
 sation he had found such sweetness. At Notting¬ 
 ham they had gotten a very able minister into the 
 
 [ great church, but a bitter presbyterian ; him and 
 his brethren my lady Fairfax caressed with so 
 much kindness, that they grew impudent to preach 
 up their faction openly in the pulpit, and to revile 
 the others, and at length would not suffer any of 
 j, the army chaplains to preach in the town. They 
 then coming to the governor and complaining of 
 
 t their unkind usage, he invited them to come and 
 preach in his house, which when it was known 
 they did, there was a great concourse of people 
 ; came thither to them ; and the presbyterians, 
 i when they heard it, were mad with rage, not only 
 
 against them, but against the governor, who acci¬ 
 dentally gave them another occasion about the 
 same time, a little before the general came. When 
 formerly the presbyterian ministers had forced 
 him for quietness sake to go and break up a private 
 meeting in the cannoneers’ chamber, there were 
 found some notes concerning pedobaptism, which 
 being brought into the governor’s lodgings, his 
 wife having then more leisure to read than he, 
 having perused them and compared them with 
 the scriptures, found not what to say against the 
 truths they asserted, concerning the misapplica¬ 
 tion of that ordinance to infants : but being then 
 young and modest, she thought it a kind of virtue 
 to submit to the judgment and practice of most 
 churches, rather than to defend a singular opinion 
 of her own, she not being then enlightened in 
 that great mistake of the national churches : but 
 in this year, she happening to be with child, com¬ 
 municated her doubts to her husband, and desired 
 him to endeavour her satisfaction ; which while 
 he did, he himself became as unsatisfied, or rather 
 satisfied against it. First, therefore, he diligently 
 searched the scriptures alone, and could find in 
 them no ground at all for that practice ; then he 
 bought and read all the eminent treatises on both 
 sides, which at that time came thick from the 
 presses, and still was cleared in the error of the 
 pedobaptists. After this, his wife being brought 
 to bed, that he might, if possible, give the religious 
 party no offence, he invited all the ministers to 
 dinner, and propounded his doubt, and the ground 
 thereof to them. None of them could defend their 
 practice with any satisfactory reason, but the 
 tradition of the church, from the primitive times, 
 and their main buckler of federal holiness, which 
 Tombs and Denne had excellently overthrown. 
 He and his wife then, professing themselves un¬ 
 satisfied in the practice, desired their opinions, 
 what they ought to do. Most answered, to con¬ 
 form to the general practice of other Christians, 
 how dark soever it were to themselves ; but Mr. 
 Foxcraft, one of the assembly, said that except 
 they were convinced of the warrant of that prac 
 tice from the Word, they sinned in doing it: where¬ 
 upon that infant was not baptised. And now the 
 governor and his wife, notwithstanding that they 
 forsook not their assemblies, nor retracted their 
 benevolences and civilities from them, yet were 
 they reviled by them, called fanatics and anabaptists, 
 and often glanced at in their public sermons. And 
 not only the ministers, but all their zealous sect¬ 
 aries, conceived implacable malice against them, 
 upon this account; which was carried on with a 
 spirit of envy and persecution to the last, though 
 he, on his side, might well have said to them, as 
 his Master to the old pharisees : “ Many good 
 works have I done among you, for which of these 
 do you hate me?” Yet the generality, even of 
 that people, had a secret conviction upon them, 
 that he had been faithful to them, and deserved 
 their love ; and in spite of their own bitter zeal, 
 could not but have a reverent esteem for him, 
 whom they often railed at, for not thinking and 
 speaking according to their opinions. 
 
 This year Sir Allen Apsley, governor of Barn¬ 
 stable for the king, after the surrender of that 
 garrison came and retired to the governor’s 
 house till his composition with the parliament was 
 completed, the governor’s wife being his sister, 
 
90 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 and the govei'nor’s brother having married the 
 other sister : and this was another occasion of 
 opening the mouths of the malignants, who were 
 ready to seize any one - to his prejudice. Sir Allen 
 Apsley had not his articles punctually performed, 
 by which he suffered great expense and intolerable 
 vexation ; and the governor, no less concerned in 
 the injustice done to him than if he had suffered 
 | it himself, endeavoured to protect him only in that 
 ! which was just, and for this was called a cavalier, 
 and said to have changed his party, and a thousand 
 more injuries ; in which none were so forward as 
 those who had all the while been disaffected to the 
 whole parliament party, but after they were con¬ 
 quered, burying their spite against the cause in 
 their own bosoms, suffered that secret fire to rise 
 up in a black smoke against the most faithful 
 assertors of it. 
 
 When the commissioners went down to fetch up 
 the king from the Scots, one of the lords coming 
 to visit the governor, and finding him at that time 
 very sick, persuaded him to make use of one of 
 the king’s physicians that was with them, who was 
 called Dr. Wilson, and was a very able physician, 
 
 I but mistook the method of his cure, and made 
 I issues in both his arms, which rather wasted his 
 j strength than his disease, and when he was cured 
 I were stopped up. That spring, growing a little 
 | better for the present, he went to London, and 
 I having ineffectually tried several physicians, Sir 
 Allen Apsley persuaded him to make use of Dr, 
 Frazier, with whom he began a course of physic, 
 in the midst of which the doctor came and ac¬ 
 quainted him that he was likely to be imprisoned 
 i upon suspicion of carrying on designs against the 
 parliament underhand, for now the Scots were 
 threatening invasion and open war : he professed 
 his innocence with many protestations, and desired 
 Mr. Hutchinson to oblige him so far as to engage 
 for him that he managed no design but his calling ; 
 
 I which the colonel believing, undertook for him to 
 I the committee of Derby-house ; when the false 
 Scot, having thus abused him, left a letter of lame 
 excuse to him, and stole away out of England to 
 the princes, then beyond the seas, leaving a blot 
 upon Mr. Hutchinson for having undertaken for 
 him : but he, acknowledging his error to have 
 been so abused, was thereby warned from credulity 
 of any of that false nation any more. That sum¬ 
 mer he attended the service of the house, being 
 freed for a while from his distemper during the 
 summer till the fall of the leaf, that it returned 
 again. In the mean time jealousies were sown 
 between the parliament, the city of London, and 
 the army. The presbyterian faction were earnest 
 to have the army disbanded ; the army resented 
 the injury, and being taught to value their own 
 merit, petitioned the general that they might be 
 satisfied, not only in things relating to themselves 
 particularly as an army, but the general concern¬ 
 ments and liberties of the good people of the 
 nation, which they had fought for. The presbyte- 
 rians were highly offended at this, and declared it 
 with such violence as gave the 'army cause to 
 increase their jealousies. The soldiers, led on to 
 it by one Cornet Joyce, took the king from 
 Holmby out of the parliament commissioners’ 
 hands, and carried him about with them. The 
 parliament voted that the king should come to 
 Richmond, attended by the same persons that 
 
 attended him at Holmby ; but the army, instead of 
 obeying, impeached eleven members of the house 
 of commons of high treason, and petitioned that 
 those impeached members might be secluded the 
 house, till they had brought in their answer to the 
 charge ; which being violently debated, they made 
 a voluntary secession for six months. The general 
 also entreated that the king might not be brought 
 nearer to London than they would suffer the army 
 to quarter. So he was carried with them to 
 Royston, Hatfield, Reading, and at last toOwborne, 
 till about July 1647, when London grew into a 
 tumult, and made a very rude violation upon the 
 parliament houses which caused them to adjourn ; 
 when understanding the fury of the citizens, the 
 greatest part of the members with the speaker 
 withdrew and went to the army, among whom was 
 Col. Hutchinson. The presbyterian members who 
 staid behind chose new speakers, and made many 
 new votes, and vigorously began to levy forces to 
 resist the army, which were conducted by Massy 
 and Poyntz. The parliament that was with the 
 army made an order against the proceedings of 
 the members at London, and advanced with the 
 general, which when the city heard of, their 
 stomachs would not serve them to stand it out, 
 but they sent commissioners, and, by the consent 
 of the members with the general, obtained a pacifi¬ 
 cation, upon condition the city should disband all 
 their new forces, deliver up their Tower and their 
 forts to the general, and desert the members now 
 sitting. They daring to deny nothing, the general 
 came triumphantly to Westminster, and brought 
 back both the speakers and the members, and put 
 them again in their seats. The general had solemn 
 thanks from both houses, and then, with all his 
 chief officers marched through the city, from 
 the western parts of it to the Tower, where 
 many commands were changed, the presbyterian 
 party depressed, and their generals, Poyntz and 
 Massy, with all the remaining officers of that 
 faction, forced to retire, who most of them then 
 changed their party, and never more appeared 
 on the parliament side. Yet was there still a 
 presbyterian faction left in the house of such as 
 were moderate, and not, by the bitterness of their 
 zeal, carried out to break their covenant with 
 God and men, and renew a league with the popish 
 interest, to destroy that godly interest which they ; 
 had at first so gloriously asserted. After this 1 
 tumult at London was quieted, about August of 
 that year the king was brought to one of his 
 stately palaces at Hampton Court, near London, 
 and the army removed to quarters about the city, 
 their head-quarters being at Putney. The king, 
 by reason of his daily converse with the officers, 
 began to be tampering with them, not only then 
 but before, and had. drawn in some of them to 
 engage to corrupt others to fall in with him : but 
 to speak the truth of all, Cromwell was at that 
 time so uncorruptibly faithful to his trust and to 
 the people’s interest, that he could not be drawn 
 in to practise even his own usual and natural 
 dissimulations on this occasion. His son-in-law, 
 Ireton, that was as faithful as he, was not so fully 
 of the opinion (till he had tried it and found to 
 the contrary) but that the king might have been 
 managed to comply with the public good of his 
 people, after he could no longer uphold his own 
 violent will; but, upon some discourses with him, 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 91 
 
 •the king uttering these words to him, “ I shall 
 play my game as well as I can,” Ireton replied, 
 
 “ If your majesty have a game to play, you must 
 give us also the liberty to play ours.” Col. 
 Hutchinson privately discoursing with his cousin 
 * about the communications he had had with the 
 1 king, Ireton’s expressions were these : “ He gave 
 us words, and we paid him in his own coin, when 
 t'we found he had no real intention to the people’s 
 P good, but to prevail, by our factions, to regain by 
 f art what he had lost in fight.” 
 
 F The king lived at Hampton-court rather in the 
 condition of a guarded and attended prince, than 
 ( as a conquered and purchased captive : all his 
 old servants had free recourse to him ; all sorts 
 of people were admitted to come to kiss his hands 
 and do him obeisance as a sovereign. Asliburnham 
 and Berkley, by the parliament voted delinquents, 
 came to him from beyond the seas, and others by 
 > permission of the army, who had hop'ed they 
 might be useful to incline him to wholesome 
 counsels.; but he, on the other side, interpreting 
 [ this freedom wherein he was’permitted to live, not 
 p to the gentleness and reconcilableness of _ his 
 i parliament, who, after all his injuries, yet desired 
 P his-restitution, so far as it might be without the 
 ■ ruin of the good people of the land, but rather 
 believing it to proceed from their apprehension of 
 ! their own declining and his re-advancing in the 
 ¥ hearts of the people, made use of this advantage 
 r to corrupt many of their officers to revolt from 
 p them and betray them ; which some time after 
 
 E they did, and paid the forfeiture with their lives*. 
 When the king was at Hampton-court, the lords 
 formerly of his privy council at Oxford also re- 
 f paired to him, to be as a council attending him, 
 but this was so much disgusted at London, that 
 they retreated again ; but the Scotch lords and 
 ‘ commissioners having free access to him, he drew 
 J that nation into the design of the second war ; 
 i which furiously brake out the next summer, and 
 was one of the highest provocations which, after 
 the second victory, brought him to the scaffold. 
 But I shall respite that, to return to his affairs 
 r whom I principally trace. 
 
 i! After the parliament were by the general re- 
 I stored to their seats, Col. Hutchinson came down 
 f to the garrison at Nottingham, which, the war 
 } being ended, was reduced only to the castle, the 
 works at the town and the bridges slighted, the 
 
 i * This is one of the places where we find reason to 
 f regret Mrs. Hutchinson’s being so summary in her account 
 l of public affairs. This matter of endeavouring to bring 
 | the king to reason, and his perverting the good intentions 
 ; of friends as well as foes, is treated much at length by 
 f Ludlow, in his first volume, from p. 194 to 204, and he 
 r agrees with Mrs. Hutchinson in most particulars; but it 
 j seems extraordinary that he should attribute a very con- 
 k 6iderable and active part in this business to Sir Allen 
 Apsley, and his sister should make no mention of him in 
 | it. The candour and benevolence of Ireton, who is so 
 I, generally represented as a cynic, are equally apparent in 
 j both places, as likewise are the obstinacy and duplicity of 
 !j the king. If Ireton is by any supposed to have been too 
 j favourably represented by Mrs. Hutchinson, it will not 
 be thought that he is likewise favoured by Walker in his 
 y j Hist, of the Independ., yet p. 164, he reports thus:—Ireton 
 
 8 said the king had committed crimes enough to depose 
 and imprison him, and crown the Duke of York, then a 
 child, in his stead (not to kill the king), and that if any 
 m thought their treatment of the king severe, they would 
 ' applaud their clemency to the Duke of York. 
 
 companies of the governor’s regiment, all but two, 
 disbanded, and he thinking, now in a time when 
 there was no opposition, the command not worthy 
 of himself or his brother, gave it over to his kins¬ 
 man, Capt. Poulton. With the assistance of his 
 fellow-parliament men he procured an order from 
 the parliament for five thousand pounds, that had 
 been levied for the Scotch army, but which they, 
 departing with too much haste, had not received, 
 to be distributed among the officers and soldiers 
 of his regiment that were at this time disbanded, 
 in part of their arrears, and, that it might go the 
 farther amongst them, himself had none of it. j 
 The garrison at Nottingham being reduced, Col. j 
 Hutchinson removed his family back to his own J 
 house at Owthorpe, but found that, having stood j 
 uninhabited, and been robbed of everything which ! 
 the neighbouring garrisons of Shelford and 
 Wiverton could carry from it, it was so ruinated 
 that it could not be repaired, to make a convenient 
 habitation, without as much charge as would 
 almost build another. By reason of the debt his 
 public employment had run him into, not being 
 able to do this at present while all his arrears 
 were unpaid, he made a bad shift with it for that 
 year. At this time his distemper of rheum was 
 very sore upon him, and he so afflicted with pains 
 in his head, which fell down also with violent 
 torture upon all his joints, that he was not able to 
 go for divers weeks out of his chamber ; and here 
 we had a notable example of the victorious power 
 of his soul over his body. One day, as he was in 
 the saddest torture of his disease, certain horse j 
 came somewhat insolently and injuriously, exact- 1 
 ing quarters or moneys in the town, whom he sent 
 for, and telling them he would not suffer such 
 wrong to be done to his tenants, they seeing him in 
 so weak a condition, would not be persuaded to 
 forbear violent and unjust actions, but told him 
 his government was expired, and they no more 
 under his command ; with which, and some other 
 saucy language, being provoked to be heartily 
 angry, he felt not that he was sick, but started out 
 of his chair and beat them out of the house 
 and town, and returned again laughing at the 
 wretched fellows and at himself, wondering what 
 was become of his pain, and thinking how strangely 
 his feebleness was cured in a moment: but while 
 he and those about him were in this amazement, 
 it was not half an hour before, as his spirits 
 cooled, that heat and vigour they had lent his 
 members retired again to their noble palace, his 
 heart; those efforts, wherein they had’violently em¬ 
 ployed his limbs, made them more weak than before, 
 and his pain returned with such redoubled violence 
 that we thought he would have died in this fit. 
 
 While he was thus distempered at home, Major- 
 General Ireton sent him a letter, with a new com¬ 
 mission in it, for the resuming his government of 
 Nottingham castle, which the principal officers 
 of the army, foreseeing an approaching storm, 
 desired to have in the same hand wherein it had 
 before been so prosperously and faithfully pre¬ 
 served ; but the colonel sent them word, that as 
 he should not have put his kinsman into the place, 
 but that he was assured of his fidelity, so lie would 
 never join with those who were so forgetful of the 
 merits of men, that had behaved themselves well, 
 as to discourage them without a cause. Hereupon 
 they suffered Capt. Poulton to remain in his com- 
 
92 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 mand ; but while the house was highly busy in 
 faction, they took no care of any of the garrisons, 
 especially of such as were likely to continue firm 
 to the cause, the presbyterian faction having a 
 design to weaken or corrupt them all, that they 
 might be prepared for the great revolt from the 
 parliament, which was now working in all countries. 
 In Nottinghamshire, a brother of the Lord Biron’s, 
 Col. Gilbert Biron, meeting Capt. Poulton, began 
 to insinuate into him, and tempt him to betray 
 Nottingham castle ; which proposition, when he 
 heard, he thought not fit utterly to reject, lest 
 the castle, being then in a weak condition, and 
 the soldiers discontented, some of his under 
 officers might more readily embrace it and betray 
 both the place and him. He therefore took a 
 little time to consider of it, and came to Col. Hut¬ 
 chinson and acquainted him with it. He advised 
 to hold his cousin Biron on in the treaty, till 
 he himself could go to London and provide for 
 the better securing of the place, which, his dis¬ 
 temper of health a little abating, he did ; and 
 when the place was well provided, Capt. Poulton, 
 who was too gentle-hearted to cut olf Mr. Biron 
 under a pretence of assenting to him, sent to him 
 to shift for himself, which Mr. Biron accordingly 
 did ; and now the insurrection began everywhere 
 to break out. 
 
 In the mean time, some months before, when 
 the king had laid the design of the second Avar 
 Avith the Scots, and employed all his art to bring 
 the English presbyters to a l’evolt, and was noAv 
 full of hopes to bring about his game , and conquer 
 those who had conquered him, Avhile he was 
 amusing the parliament Avith expectations of a 
 treaty, he privily stole away from Hampton Court 
 by the assistance of Ashburnham and Berkley, 
 no man knew whither : but these wise men had 
 so ordered their business, that instead of going 
 beyond seas, which Avas his first intent, he was 
 forced to give himself up to Hammond, Governor 
 of the Isle of Wight, who immediately gave 
 notice to the parliament, and they sent him thanks 
 for his fidelity, and ordered that the king should 
 be honourably attended and guarded there in 
 Carisbrook Castle. The parliament were again 
 sending him propositions there, when they received 
 a letter from him, urging that he might come to 
 a personal treaty at London. Hereupon the two 
 houses agreed on four propositions to be sent him, 
 to pass as bills ; upon the passing of which, they 
 were content he should come to a personal treaty 
 for the rest. The four propositions were, 1st. 
 That a bill should pass for the settling the militia 
 of the kingdom. 2dly.* That all oaths, declara¬ 
 tions, &c. against the parliament and their ad¬ 
 herents should be called in. 3dly, That the lords 
 made by the great seal at Oxford, should not be 
 capable of sitting in the house of peers thereby. 
 4thly, That the parliament may have power to 
 adjourn, as the tAvo houses think fit. The Scotch 
 commissioners opposed the sending these bills to 
 the king, and urged his coming to a personal 
 treaty at London. The king understanding their 
 mind and the factions in London, absolutely 
 refused to sign them. Wherefore the houses 
 debating upon the king’s denial, at length these 
 votes were passed by both houses on the 17th day 
 of January.—That they would make no more 
 addresses, nor applications to the king ; that no 
 
 person whatsoever should make address or appli¬ 
 cation to him ; that Avhoever should break this 
 order, should incur the penalty of high treason: 
 that they would receive no more messages from 
 the king, and that no person should presume to 
 bring any to either house, or any other person. 
 Upon these votes the army put forth a declaration, 
 promising to stand by the houses in them, which 
 was signed by the general and all his officers, at 
 Windsor, Jan. 19, 1647. But in May following, 
 first tumults began in London, then the Surrey 
 men came Avith a very insolent petition, and 
 behaved themselves so arrogantly to the parlia¬ 
 ment, killing and wounding some of the guards, 
 that a troop of horse were fetched from the 
 Mews, and were forced to kill some of them, 
 before they could quiet them. After this, the 
 parliament Avere informed of another insurrection 
 in Kent, coming under the face of a petition, and 
 sent out General Fairfax with seven regiments to 
 suppress them, who pursued them to Rochester. 
 A great company of these Kentish men were 
 gotten together about Gravesend, Avith fifteen 
 knights, and many commanders of the king’s 
 army to head them, who, although they were 
 more in number then Fairfax’s men, yet durst 
 not bide his coming. Some of them went to 
 Dover Castle and besieged it, but the general sent 
 out Sir Michael Livesey, who happily relieved 
 that place, and raised the siege ; others Avent to 
 Maidstone, and a few kept together about Ro¬ 
 chester. The general himself Avent to Maidstone, 
 where two thousand of them were gotten into the 
 toAvn, and resolved to keep it ; whom the general 
 assaulted, and with difficulty entered the town 
 and fought for every street, which were barri- 
 cadoed against him and defended with cannon. 
 Yet at length he killed two hundred, and took 
 fourteen hundred prisoners. Four hundred horse 
 broke away to an army of their friends, bigger 
 than Fairfax’s, Avho saAv the town taken, yet 
 had not the courage to engage against the general 
 in the relief of it, but after they saw his victory 
 dispersed. The Lord Goring then, having rallied 
 about two thousand of these Kentish men, led 
 them to Greemvich, from whence he sent to try 
 the affections of the Londoners ; but while he 
 stayed there expecting their ansAver, some troops 
 of the army came, upon the sight of whom, he 
 and his men fled,— the Kentish men, most of 
 them, to their own houses; himself, with about five 
 hundred horse, getting boat, crossed the Thames 
 into Essex, where the Lord Capel with forces out 
 of Hertfordshire, and Sir Charles Lucas Avith a 
 body of horse at Chelmsford, joined him ; to whom 
 in a short time, divers that had been the king’s 
 soldiers, many Londoners, and other malignants, 
 flocked in. General Fairfax with part of his 
 forces crossed the Thames at Gravesend, and 
 sending for all the rest out of Kent and London, 
 pursued the enemies and drove them into Col¬ 
 chester, where he besieged them, and lay before 
 them three months. At last, hearing of the de¬ 
 feat of Duke Hamilton and the Scots, and other 
 of the king’s partisans, and being reduced to eat¬ 
 ing horse-flesh, without hopes of relief, they yielded 
 to mercy. The general shot Sir Charles Lucas 
 and Sir George Lisle to death upon the place, and 
 reserved Goring, Capel, and others, to abide the 
 doom of the parliament. While Fairfax was thus 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 93 
 
 employed in Kent and Essex, Langhorne, Powell, 
 and Poyer, celebrated commanders of the parlia¬ 
 ment side, revolted with the places in their com¬ 
 mand, and got a body of eight thousand Welchmen, 
 whom Col. Horton, with three thousand, encoun¬ 
 tered, vanquished, routed, and took as many 
 prisoners as he had soldiers ; but Langhorne and 
 Powell escaped to Poyer, and shut up themselves 
 with him in Pembroke Castle, a place so strong 
 that they refused all treaty ; and thereupon were 
 besieged by Lieutenant-General Cromwell, to 
 whom at length, after some months’ siege, it sur¬ 
 rendered at the conqueror’s mercy. In divers 
 other countries at the same time, were several 
 insurrections and revolts, but those of the parlia¬ 
 ment party, as if they had lost courage and con¬ 
 science at once, could no more behave themselves 
 with that valour which had before renowned them, 
 and were slain or taken, losing the places they 
 had betrayed, to their old companions, whose 
 fidelity was crowned with success everywhere. 
 Among the rest Colonel Gilbert Biron was risen, 
 with other gentlemen of Nottinghamshire and 
 Lincolnshire, and had gotten together about five 
 hundred horse ; wherewith, after he failed of his 
 hopes of corrupting the governor of Nottingham, 
 they intended to go and join themselves with 
 
 ■ others that were up in other countries : and this 
 j was so suddenly and secretly done, that they were 
 
 upon their march before the rising was suspected. 
 | The governor of Nottingham had not time enough 
 | to send a messenger to be before them with Col. Hut¬ 
 chinson at his house, therefore shot off a piece of 
 cannon, which Col. Hutchinson hearing as he sat 
 at dinner, and believing some extraordinary thing 
 to be in it, commanded horses to be made ready, 
 and went to Nottingham ; but met the messenger 
 who came to give him notice of the enemy’s ap¬ 
 proach. The news being sent home in haste, his 
 arms and writings, and other things of value, 
 were put in a cart and sent away ; which was not 
 long gone but the enemy marched by the house, 
 and keeping their body on a hill at the town’s end, 
 only sent a party to the house to fetch them what 
 provisions of meat and drink they found there, 
 besides which, they took nothing but a groom 
 with two horses, who being ridden out to air them, 
 fell into their mouths, because he could not be 
 readily found when the rest of the horses were 
 sent away. The reason why no more mischief 
 was done by the cavaliers to his family, at that 
 time, was partly because Col. Gilbert Biron had 
 ! commanded not to disturb them, if he were not 
 ; there, and partly because they were so closely 
 | pursued by the Lincolnshire troops, that they 
 | could not stay to take nor would burden them- 
 I selves with plunder, now they saw it unlikely to 
 | get off without fighting. This they did the next 
 
 ■ day at Willoughby within three miles of Owthorpe, 
 and were there totally routed, killed, and taken, by 
 a party under Col. Rossiter’s command, by whom 
 
 ! Col. Biron was carried prisoner to Belvoir Castle, 
 i There being in distress, although he was an ene- 
 ! my, and had dealt unhandsomely with Col. Hut- 
 j chinson, in endeavouring to corrupt one for whom 
 I he was engaged, yet the colonel sent him a sum of 
 ! money for his present relief, and after procured 
 
 I him a release and composition with the parlia¬ 
 ment. The greatest of all these dangers seemed 
 : now to be in the north, where Duke Hamilton’s 
 
 faction being prevalent in Scotland, he had raised 
 an army, and was marched into England. Sir 
 Marmaduke Langdale and Glenham, having already 
 raised some men in those parts, whom Lambert, 
 with the assistance of some Lincolnshire forces, 
 joined to his Yorkshire brigade, kept in play : 
 but they reserved themselves to join with Hamil¬ 
 ton. Argyle, and others of the kirk party, pro¬ 
 tested against him, and many of the ministers 
 cursed his attempt, but were silenced for it, 
 although God heard them. The presbyterians in 
 London secretly prayed for his success, and hard¬ 
 ly could the house of lords be brought to join with 
 the house of commons, in voting all the English 
 traitors that should join with the Scots, which 
 yet at the last they did. 
 
 Col. Hutchinson having been about this time at 
 London, and wanting a minister for the place 
 where he lived, and for which he had procured 
 an augmentation, repaired to some eminent minis¬ 
 ters in London to recommend a worthy person to 
 him for the place. They, with a great testimonial, 
 preferred a Scotchman to him, whom the colonel 
 brought down: but having occasion to be with 
 the committee at Nottingham, to take order for 
 the security of the county in these dangerous 
 times; while he was out, the man made strange 
 prayers in the family, which were couched in dark 
 expressions; but Mrs. Hutchinson understanding 
 them to be intended for the prosperous success 
 of those who were risen against the parliament, 
 and of his nation, that were coming to invade ours, 
 told her husband at his return, that she could not 
 bear with nor join in his prayers. The next day, 
 being the Lord’s Day, the colonel heard his ser¬ 
 mon, which was so spiritless and so lamentable, 
 that he was very much vexed the ministers should 
 have put such a man to him: withal he publicly 
 made the same prayers he uttered in the family, 
 for the success of the Scots; whereupon, after 
 dinner, the colonel took him aside, and told him 
 that he had done very sinfully to undertake an 
 office to which he was so ill gifted, and desired him 
 to depart in peace again the next day, and to for¬ 
 bear any further employment in his house. The 
 man at first was very high, and told the colonel 
 he was there by authority of parliament, and 
 would not depart; the colonel then dealt high 
 with him, and told him he •would declare to them 
 the expressions of his prayers, and so confounded 
 the man, that he besought him to have pity, and 
 confessed that he was fled from his own country 
 for having been of Montrose’s party, and that 
 covetousness, against his conscience, had drawn 
 him to dissemble himself to be of the parliament’s 
 principle, but that God had judged him for his 
 hypocrisy, and withdi-awn his spirit from him 
 since he practised it; and submitted himself to 
 go quietly and silently away, begging it as a favour 
 of the colonel that he would permit him so to do. 
 He did it with such a counterfeit sorrow and con¬ 
 viction, that the colonel, being of a most placable 
 nature, freely forgave him, and sent him not away 
 empty, for he had fifteen pounds for only a fort¬ 
 night’s service ; yet this rogue, before he went out 
 of the country, went to the presbyters of Notting¬ 
 ham, and told them his conscience would not permit 
 him to stay in the colonel’s house, because he and 
 his wife were such violent sectaries, that no ortho- I 
 dox man could live comfortably with them; and this | 
 
94 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 scandal those charitable priests were ready to 
 receive and more largely spread it. They them¬ 
 selves, with divers of their zealous disciples, whom 
 they had perverted, among whom were Col. 
 Francis Pierrepont, Captains Rosse, White, Cliad- 
 wick, and many others, were watching opportunity 
 to break their covenant and rise against that 
 parliament, under which they had served and 
 sworn to assist them, till all delinquents, as well 
 greater as less, were brought to condign punish¬ 
 ment. 
 
 At London, things were in a very sad posture, 
 the two factions of presbytery and independency 
 being so engaged to suppress each other, that they 
 both left off to regard the public interest, insomuch 
 that at that time a certain sort of public-spirited 
 men stood up in the parliament and the army, 
 declaring against these factions and the ambition of 
 the grandees of both, and the partiality that was in 
 these days practised, by which great men were pri¬ 
 vileged to do those things which meaner men were 
 punished for, and the injustice and other crimes of 
 particular members of parliament rather covered 
 than punished, to the scandal of the whole house. 
 Many got shelter in the house and army against 
 their debts, by which others were defrauded and 
 I undone. The lords, as if it were the chief interest 
 of nobility to be licensed in vice, claimed many 
 prerogatives, which set them out of the reach of 
 common justice, which these good-hearted people 
 would have equally to belong to the poorest as 
 well as the mighty; and for this and such other 
 honest declarations,they were nicknamed Levellers. 
 Indeed as all virtues are mediums, and have their 
 extremes, there arose up after in that name a 
 people, who endeavoured the levelling of all 
 estates and qualities, which these sober levellers 
 were never guilty of desiring, but were men of 
 just and sober principles, of honest and religious 
 ends, and therefore hated by all the designing 
 self-interested men of both factions. Col. Hutchin¬ 
 son had a great intimacy with many of these ; and 
 so far as they acted according to the just, pious, 
 and public spirit which they professed, owned 
 them and protected them as far as he had power. 
 These were they who first began to discover the 
 ambition of Lieutenant-general Cromwell and his 
 idolaters, and to suspect and dislike it. About 
 this time, he was sent down, after his victory in 
 Wales, to encounter Hamilton in the north. When 
 he went down, the chief of these levellers, follow¬ 
 ing him out of the town, to take their leaves of him, 
 received such professions from him, of a spirit 
 bent to pursue the same just and honest things 
 that they desired, as they went away with great 
 satisfaction, till they heard that a coachful of pres- 
 byterian priests, coming after them, went away no 
 less pleased; by which it was apparent he dis¬ 
 sembled with one or the other, and by so doing 
 lost his credit with both. 
 
 When he came to Nottingham, Col. Hutchinson 
 went to see him, whom he embraced with all the 
 expressions of kindness that one friend could make 
 to another, and then retiring with him pressed 
 him to tell him what thought his friends, the 
 Levellers, had of him. The colonel, who was the 
 freest man in the world from concealing truth 
 from his friend, especially when it was required of 
 him in love and plainness, not only told him what 
 others thought of him, but what he himself con¬ 
 
 ceived, and how much it would darken all his 
 glories, if he should become a slave to his own 
 ambition, and be guilty of what he gave the world 
 just cause to suspect, and therefore begged of him 
 to wear his heart in his face, and to scorn to de¬ 
 lude his enemies, but to make use of his noble 
 courage, to maintain what he believed just, against 
 all great opposers. Cromwell made mighty pro¬ 
 fessions of a sincere heart to him, but it is certain 
 that for this and such like plain-dealing with him, 
 he dreaded the colonel, and made it his particular 
 business to keep him out of the army; but the 
 colonel never desiring command to serve himself, 
 but his country, would not use that art he detested 
 in others, to procure himself any advantage. 
 
 At this time Col. •Thornhagh marched with 
 Cromwell, and at his parting with Col. Hutchinson 
 took such a kind leave of him, with such dear 
 expressions of love, such brotherly embraces, and 
 such regret for any rash jealousies he had been 
 wrought into, that it took great impression in the 
 colonel’s kind heart, and might have been a presage | 
 to him that they should meet no more, when they j 
 parted with such extraordinary melting love; but 
 that Col. Hutchinson’s cheerful and constant spirit 
 never anticipated any evil with fear. His prudence j 
 wanted not foresight that it might come, yet his 
 faith and courage entertained his hope, that God 
 would either prevent, or help him to bear it. 
 
 This summer the revolt was no greater at land j 
 than at sea. Many of the great ships set the 
 vice-admiral on shore, and sailed towards Holland 
 to Prince Charles : to whom the Duke of York 
 was come, having, by his father’s advice, privately j 
 stolen away from London, where the parliament j 
 had received and treated him like a prince, ever 
 since the surrender of Oxford. To reduce these I 
 revolted ships, and preserve the rest of the navy j 
 from the like, the Earl of Warwick was made 
 lord high admiral of England. But at the same ; 
 time his brother the Earl of Holland, who had ■ 
 floated up and down with the tide of the times, j 
 rose also against the parliament, and appeared in j 
 arms, with the young Duke of Buckingham and i 
 Lord Francis Villars his brother, and others, i 
 making about five hundred horse, at Kingston- : 
 upon-Thames. Here some of the parliament 
 troops, assailing them before they had time to 
 grow, they were totally routed and dispersed. The j 
 Lord Francis Yillars was slain ; the Earl of Hoi- | 
 land, flying with those he could rally, was fought 
 with at St. Neots, Dalbier and others of his asso- ! 
 ciates slain, and himself taken prisoner and carried | 
 to W arwick Castle. Buckingham fled, and at last 
 got beyond seas, with a blot of base ingratitude 1 
 and treachery, which began then to appear, and I 
 hath since marked out all his life. For these two 
 lords being pupils, and under the king’s tuition, 
 were carried with him to Oxford, where they 
 remained till the rendition of the place, and then I 
 coming to London, in regard they were under age, I 
 had all their father and mother’s great estates, I 
 freely, without any sequestration or composition, [ 
 and while they enjoyed them, their secret inten- i 
 tions of rising being discovered to the parliament, ! 
 the parliament would not secure them, as some ! 
 advised, but only sent a civil warning to the duke, 
 minding him how unhandsome it would be, if the 
 information should prove true ; whereupon the i 
 duke protested he had no such intention, but j 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 95 
 
 ! itterly detested it, making all the expressions of 
 just gratitude to them that could be, and yet, 
 within very few days after, openly showed himself 
 iin arms, to tell the world how perfidious an hypo¬ 
 crite he was ; for which the parliament exempted 
 iiim from pardon, and ever after detested his 
 name, as one that rose only to fall into contempt 
 and obloquy. 
 
 And now was Cromwell advanced into Lanca¬ 
 shire, where Lambert retreating from the invading 
 Scots, joined with him and made up an army 
 nf about ten thousand ; which were but few to 
 encounter five-and-twenty thousand, led by Hamil¬ 
 ton, Langdale, and other English joined with them. 
 Yet near Preston, in Lancashire, they fought, and 
 Cromwell gained an entire victory, about the end 
 ?f August, and had the chase of them for twenty 
 miles, wherein many fell, and many were taken 
 prisoners. Hamilton himself, with a good party 
 cf horse, fled to Uttoxeter, and was there taken 
 by the Lord Grey. But, in the beginning of this 
 battle, the valiant Col. Thornhagh was wounded 
 to death. Being at the beginning of the charge 
 on a horse as courageous as became such a master, 
 he made such furious speed to set upon a company 
 ! of Scotch lancers, that lie was singly engaged and 
 | mortally wounded, before it was possible for his 
 i regiment, though as brave men as ever drew 
 j sword, and too affectionate to their colonel to be 
 ' slack in following him, to come time enough to 
 break the fury of that body, which shamed not to 
 unite all their force against one man : who yet 
 fell not among them, but being faint and all 
 covered with blood, of his enemies as well as his 
 own, was carried off by some of his own men, 
 while the rest, enraged for the loss of their dear 
 colonel, fought not that day like men of human 
 race: deaf to the cries of every coward that asked 
 mercy, they killed all, and would not a captive 
 should live to see their colonel die ; but said 
 the whole kingdom of Scotland was too mean 
 a sacrifice for that brave man. His soul was 
 hovering to take her flight out of his body, but 
 that an eager desire to know the success of that 
 battle kept it within, till the end of the day, when 
 1 the news being brought him, he cleared his dying 
 ’ countenance, and said, “I now rejoice to die, since 
 God hath let me see the overthrow of this perfi¬ 
 dious enemy ; I could not lose my life in a better 
 cause, and I have the favour from God to see my 
 blood avenged.” So he died, with a large testi¬ 
 mony of love to his soldiers, but more to the 
 cause, and was by mercy removed, that the temp¬ 
 tations of future times might not prevail to corrupt 
 his pure soul. A man of greater courage and 
 integrity fell not nor fought not in this glorious 
 cause ; he had also an excellent good nature, but 
 easy to be wrought upon by flatterers, yet as 
 flexible to the admonitions of his friends ; and 
 this virtue he had, that if sometimes a cunning 
 insinuation prevailed upon his easy faith, when his 
 error was made known to him, notwithstanding all 
 his great courage, he was readier to acknowledge 
 and repair, than to pursue his mistake.* Col. 
 
 * The valour of this gentleman seems to have been a 
 j favourite topic of admiration and praise among his 
 ]' brother warriors. In Cromwell’s letter (preserved by 
 j Whitelock) wherein he gives an account of his victory, he 
 : laments “ the death of this too brave gentleman .” Ludlow 
 is full in his praises of him, and adds a very picturesque 
 
 [ 
 
 Thornhagh’s regiment, in the reducing of the 
 garrison forces, had one Major Saunders (a Der¬ 
 byshire man, who was a very godly, honest, country 
 gentleman, but had not many things requisite to 
 a great soldier) assigned them for their major, 
 and with him he brought in about a troop of Der¬ 
 byshire horse ; but the Nottinghamshire horse, 
 who certainly were as brave men as any that drew 
 swords in the army, had been animated in all their 
 service by the dear love they had to their colonel, 
 and the glory they took in him, and their generous 
 spirits could not take satisfaction in serving under 
 a less man, which they all esteemed their major 
 to be ; but remembering their successes under 
 Col. Hutchinson, and several other things that 
 moved them to pitch their thoughts upon him, the 
 captains addressed themselves to Cromwell, and 
 acquainted him with the discouragement and 
 sorrow they had by the death of their colonel, for 
 whom nothing could comfort them but a successor 
 equal to himself, which they could not hope to 
 find so as they might in the person of Col. Hutch¬ 
 inson, with whose worth and courage they were 
 well acquainted, and he was now out of employ¬ 
 ment : the only difficulty was, whether he would 
 accept the command or no, which they hoped to 
 prevail in, if he would oblige them by sending to 
 Lord Fairfax, to stop all other ways that might 
 be thought of for disposing it, till they could know 
 whether Col. Hutchinson would accept it, for which 
 they had prepared a messenger to send to his 
 house. Cromwell, with all the assentation imagin¬ 
 able, seemed to rejoice they had made so worthy 
 a choice, and promised them to take care the 
 regiment should not be disposed of, till they 
 received Col. Hutchinson’s answer ; whereupon 
 the captains severally writ to Col. Hutchinson, with 
 most earnest entreaties, that he would give them 
 leave to procure a commission for him to conduct 
 them, which the lieutenant-general had already 
 promised to send for, if he pleased to accept it. 
 
 The colonel, though he had more inclination at 
 that time, by reason of the indisposition of his 
 health, to rest, yet not knowing whether the ear¬ 
 nest desires of his countrymen were not from a 
 higher call, wrote them word that he preferred the 
 satisfaction of their desires before his own, and if 
 the commission came to him to be their leader, 
 he would not refuse it, though he should not do 
 anything himself to seek any command. Mean¬ 
 while Cromwell, as soon as the Nottinghamshire 
 men had imparted their desires to him, sent for 
 Saunders, and cajoling him, told him, none was 
 so fit as himself to command the regiment, but 
 that the regiment thought not all of them so, but 
 were designing to procure themselves another 
 colonel, which he advised him to prevent, by send¬ 
 ing speedily to the general, to whom Cromwell also 
 writ to further the request, and before the mes¬ 
 senger came back from Owthorpe procured the 
 commission for Saunders. When it came, he used 
 all his art to persuade the captains to submit to 
 it, and to excuse himself from having any hand in 
 it ; but they perceived his dissimulation, and the 
 troops were so displeased with it, that they thought 
 to have flung down their arms ; but their cap¬ 
 tains persuaded them to rest contented till the 
 
 circumstance: “that as he lay wounded among his { 
 
 soldiers, he made them open to the right and leit, that 
 he might see the enemy run.” 
 
 !i 
 
96 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 present expedition were over. But they had not 
 only this cheat and disappointment by Cromwell, 
 but all the Nottingham captains were passed over, 
 and a less deserving man made major of the 
 regiment. The new colonel and major made it 
 their business to discountenance and affront all 
 that had showed any desire of Col. Hutchinson, 
 and to weary them out, that they might fill up 
 their rooms with Derbyshire men ; but as soon as 
 they got to London, all that could otherwise dis¬ 
 pose of themselves, went voluntarily off; and the 
 rest that were forced to abide, hated their com¬ 
 manders, and lived discontentedly under them. 
 The reasons that induced Cromwell to this, were 
 two : first, he found that Col. Hutchinson under¬ 
 stood him, and was too generous either to fear or 
 flatter him ; and he carried, though under a false 
 face of friendship, a deep resentment of the colonel’s 
 plain-dealing with him at Nottingham. He had 
 besides a design, by insinuating himself into Col. 
 Saunders, to flatter him into the sale of a town of 
 his called Ireton, which Cromwell earnestly desired 
 to buy for Major General Ireton, who had mar¬ 
 ried his daughter, and when at last he could not 
 obtain it, in process of time, he took the regiment 
 away from him again *. Col. Hutchinson was not 
 at all displeased that the regiment was not given 
 to him, but highly resented it that the men were 
 ill used for their affections to him ; and was sorry 
 that this particular carriage of Cromwell’s gave 
 him such a proof of other things suspected of him, 
 so destructive to the whole cause and party, as it 
 afterwards fell out. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke Langdale, after the rout of 
 Hamilton, came, with two or three other officers, 
 to a little ale-house which was upon Col. Hutch¬ 
 inson’s land, and there were so circumspect, that 
 some country fellows, who saw them by chance, 
 suspecting they were no ordinary travellers, ac¬ 
 quainted Mr. Widmerpoole, who lived within two 
 or three miles, and had been major to the colonel 
 in the first war : whereupon he came forth, with 
 some few others, and sent down to the colonel to 
 acquaint him that some suspicious persons were 
 at the lodge. The colonel, hearing of it, took his 
 servants out, and was approached near the house, 
 when Major Widmerpoole, being beforehand in 
 the house, had given Langdale some jealousy that 
 he might be surprised ; therefore one of his com¬ 
 pany went out to fetch out his horses, which were 
 stopped for the present, and they seeing the 
 colonel coming up towards them, rendered them¬ 
 selves prisoners to Major Widmei’poole, and were 
 sent to Nottingham Castle, where they continued 
 some months, till at last Langdale, finding an op¬ 
 portunity, corrupted one of the guard, who fur¬ 
 nished him with a soldier’s disguise, and ran away 
 with him. The major, who had been baffled by 
 these persons if the colonel had not come in, had 
 all the booty, which the colonel never took share 
 of anywhere : but the major, thinking the best of 
 his spoils justly due to him, presented him with a 
 case or two of very fine pistols, which he accepted. 
 
 About this time, the gentlemen that were com¬ 
 missioners for the king at Newark, fell into dis¬ 
 
 * This gentleman is mentioned in Granger’s Biography: 
 and there is a print of him in the hands of some curious 
 collectors, peculiarly of John Townely, Esq. He is said 
 to be of Ireton, in Derbyshire; but Ireton is believed to be 
 in the Yale of Bel voir. I 
 
 putes one with another ; nor only so, but suits 
 were commenced in the chancery upon this occasion. 
 One Atkins, and several other rich men at Newark, 
 when that garrison began to be fortified for the 
 king, lent certain sums of money, for the carrying 
 on of that work, to the commissioners of array, 
 for which those gentlemen became bound to the 
 Newarkers. After the taking in of that town by 
 the parliament, they, as other persons, coming in 
 within the set time, were admitted to composition. 
 Having been so cunning as to put out their money 
 in other names, they ventured to leave out these 
 sums, believing they were put into such sure hands, 
 that it would never be discovered. Mr. Sutton, 
 Sir Thomas Williamson, Sir John Digby, Sir 
 Gervas Eyre, the Lord Chaworth, Sir Thomas 
 Blackwell, Sir Roger Cowper, Sir Richard Biron, 
 and others, had given bond for this money, which 
 Mr. Sutton presenting to the king, as a sum that 
 he had raised to signalize his loyalty, the king, to 
 reward him, made him a baron. The whole sum 
 thus taken up for the king’s service, was eight or 
 ten thousand pounds ; fifteen hundred of it, that 
 was lent by Atkinson, being demanded, would have 
 been paid, but they would not take the principal 
 without the interest. Sir Thomas Williamson was 
 open'y arrested for it in Westminster Hall ; upon 
 which Mr. Sutton and he, being madded, put in a 
 bill in chancery against Atkinson and others, 
 praying that they might set forth to what ends 
 and uses this money was lent to the said gentle¬ 
 men, &c. &c. 
 
 The parliament had made a law, that all estates 
 of delinquents, concealed and uncompounded for, 
 should be forfeited, one half to the state, and the 
 other half to the discoverer, if he had any arrears 
 due to him from the parliament, in payment of 
 them. There were clerks and solicitors, who in 
 those days made a trade of hunting out such dis¬ 
 coveries, and making them known to such as had 
 any arrears due to them. Col. Hutchinson at 
 that time had received no pay at all. One of the. 
 clerks of that committee which was appointed for 
 such discoveries, sent him word that two officers 
 of the army were, upon this chancery bill, en¬ 
 deavouring to make a discovery of certain concealed 
 moneys in Nottinghamshire, which being his own 
 country, he thought might be more proper for 
 him. Col. Hutchinson, who had never any mind 
 to disadvantage any of the gentlemen of the country, 
 demurred upon this information, and did nothing 
 in it, till some came to him, intimating a desire of 
 my Lord Lexington’s, that the colonel would pitch 
 upon that for the payment of his arrears, that so 
 they might fall into the hands of a neighbour, who 
 would use them civilly, rather than of a stranger. 
 After that the colonel was thus invited, by the 
 gentlemen themselves, to pitch upon this money, 
 he waived all the rest, and only entered as his dis 
 covery, that money which these townsmen of 
 Newark had lent; and upon full search and hearing 
 at the committee, the money was found to be for¬ 
 feited money, and the debtors were ordered to pay 
 it into the committee, and Col. Hutchinson had 
 also an order to receive his arrear from that com¬ 
 mittee of Haberdasher’s Hall. Hereupon Sir 
 Thomas Williamson and Lord Lexington, who 
 being the men of the best estates, were principally 
 looked upon for the debt, applied themselves to 
 Col. Hutchinson, begging as a favour that he would 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 07 
 
 undertake the management of the order of seques¬ 
 tration, given out upon their estates, and would 
 also oblige them, by bringing in several other gen¬ 
 tlemen, that were bound to bear proportionable 
 shares. The colonel, to gratify them, got the 
 order of sequestration, and brought them to an 
 accommodation, wherein every man, according to 
 his ability, agreed upon an equal proportion ; and 
 the gentlemen, especially Mr. Sutton, acknowledged 
 a very great obligation to the colonel, who had 
 brought it to so equal a composition among them ; 
 and then, upon their own desires, the order of 
 sequestration was laid upon their estates, but 
 managed by one of their own bailiffs, only to free 
 them from inconveniences, that otherwise would 
 have come upon them. Some of them made use 
 of it to get in arrears of rent, which they knew 
 not how else any way to have gotten, and for 
 which at that time they pretended the greatest 
 I sense of gratitude and obligation imaginable. The 
 colonel also procured them days of payment, so 
 that whereas it should have been paid this 
 Michaelmas 1648, it was not paid till a year after ; 
 and for these and many other favours on this oc¬ 
 casion, was then courted as their patron, though 
 afterwards this civility had like to have been 
 his ruin. And now, about Michaelmas 1648, 
 he went to attend his duty at the parliament, 
 j carrying his whole family with him, because his 
 | house had been so ruined by the war that he could- 
 ! no longer live in it, till it were either repaired or 
 ! new built. On coming to London, he himself fell 
 i into his old distemper of rheum, with more vio- 
 ! lence than ever, and being weary of those physicians 
 he had so long, with so little success, employed, 
 he was recommended to a young doctor, son to 
 old Dr. Rudgely, whose excellence in his art was 
 everywhere known, and his son being a very in¬ 
 genious person, and considering himself, and con¬ 
 sulting with his father, believed that all the other 
 physicians who had dealt with him had mistaken 
 his disease, which he finding more truly out, in a 
 short space perfectly cured him of the gout, and 
 restored him, by God’s blessing on his endeavours, 
 to such a condition of health as he had not enjoyed 
 for two years before. When he was well again to 
 ; attend the house, he found the presbyterian party 
 so prevalent there, that the victories obtained by 
 the army displeased them, and so hot they grew 
 in the zeal of their faction, that they from thence¬ 
 forth resolved and endeavoured to close with the 
 common enemy, that they might thereby compass 
 the destruction of their independent brethren. To 
 this end, and to strengthen their faction, they got 
 in again the late suspended members ; whereof it 
 was said, and by the consequence appeared true, 
 that Mr. Hollis, during his secession, had been in 
 France, and there meeting with the queen, had 
 pieced up an ungodly accommodation with her : 
 although he were the man that, when at the 
 beginning, some of the soberer men, who foresaw 
 the sad issues of war and victory on either side, 
 
 , were labouring .an accommodation, openly in the 
 house said, “ He abhorred that word Accommoda¬ 
 tion.” After these were gotten in again, and en¬ 
 couraged by the presbyterian ministers and the 
 people in the city, they procured a revocation of 
 the votes formerly made, with such convincing 
 reasons publicly declared for the same, why they 
 had resolved of no more addresses to be made to 
 
 the king. And now nothing was agitated with 
 more violence than a new personal treaty, with 
 honour and freedom ; and even his coming to the 
 city, before any security given, was laboured for, 
 but that prevailed not. Such were the- heats of 
 the two parties, that Mr. Hollis challenged Ireton, 
 even in the house ; out of which they both went 
 to have fought, but that one who sat near them 
 overheard the wicked whisper, and prevented the 
 execution of it. 
 
 Amidst these things, at last a treaty was sent 
 to the king by commissioners, who went from 
 both houses to the Isle of Wight ; and although 
 there were some honourable persons in this com¬ 
 mission, yet it cannot be denied but that they 
 were carried away by the other, and concluded, 
 upon most dangerous terms, an agreement with 
 the king. He would not give up bishops, but only 
 lease out their revenues; and upon the whole, 
 such were the terms upon which the king was to 
 be restored, that the whole cause was evidently 
 given up to him. Only one thing he assented to, 
 to acknowledge himself guilty of the blood spilt in 
 the late war, with this proviso, that if the agree¬ 
 ment were not ratified by the house, then this 
 concession should be of no force against him.* 
 The commissioners that treated with him had 
 been cajoled and biassed with the promises of 
 great honours and offices to every one of them, 
 and so they brought back their treaty to be con¬ 
 firmed by the houses; where there was a very 
 high dispute about them, and they sat up most 
 part of the night, when at length it was voted to 
 accept his concessions, the dissenting party being 
 fewer than the other that were carried on in the 
 faction. Col. Hutchinson was that night among 
 them, and being convinced in his conscience that 
 both the cause, and all those who with an upright 
 honest heart asserted and maintained it, were 
 betrayed and sold for nothing, he addressed 
 himself to those commissioners he had most 
 honourable thoughts of, and urged his reasons 
 and apprehensions to them, and told them that 
 the king, after having been exasperated, van¬ 
 quished, and captived, would be restored to that 
 power, which was inconsistent with the liberty of 
 the people, who for all their blood, treasure, and 
 misery, would reap no fruit, but a confirmation 
 of bondage, and that it had been a thousand times 
 better never to have struck one stroke in the 
 quarrel, than, after victory, to yield up a righteous 
 cause; whereby they should not only betray the 
 interest of their country and the trust reposed in 
 them, and those zealous friends who had engaged 
 to the death for them, but be false to the covenant 
 of their God, which was to extirpate prelacy , not 
 to lease it.f They acknowledged to him that the 
 conditions were not so secure as they ought to be ; 
 but in regard of the growing power and insolence 
 of the army, it was best to accept them. They 
 further said, that they enjoying those trusts and 
 
 * Certainly there are many strange things to be found 
 in the history of diplomacy, but perhaps none so strange 
 as that an assertion should be admitted to be provision¬ 
 ally true. 
 
 t There is, among Clarendon’s State Papers, a letter 
 from the queen to the king, assuring him that those with 
 whom he had to deal were too penetrating to be duped by 
 this artilice ; if they were, or pretended to be, the queen 
 was not. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 | 98 
 
 places which they had secured for themselves and 
 other honest men, should be able to curb the 
 king’s exorbitances; and such other things they 
 said, wherewith the colonel dissatisfied, opposed 
 their proceedings as much as he could. When 
 the vote was passed, he, telling some men of 
 understanding, that he was not satisfied in con¬ 
 science to be included with the major part, in this 
 vote, which was contrary to their former engage¬ 
 ments to God, but thought it fit to testify their 
 public dissent, he and four more entered into the 
 house-book a protestation against that night’s 
 votes and proceedings.* Whether it yet remains 
 there, or whether some other of them got it out, 
 he knew not, but he much wondered, after the 
 change and scrutiny into all these things, that he 
 never heard the least mention of it. 
 
 By this violent proceeding of the presbyterians 
 they finished the destruction of him in whose 
 restitution they were now so fiercely engaged, for 
 this gave heart to the vanquished cavaliers, and 
 such courage to the captive king that it hardened 
 him and them to their ruin. On the other side it 
 so frighted all the honest people, that it made 
 them as violent in their zeal to pull down, as the 
 others were in their madness to restore, this kingly 
 idol; and the army, who were principally levelled 
 and marked out for the sacrifice and peace-offering 
 of this ungodly reconciliation, had some colour to 
 pursue their late arrogant usurpations upon that 
 authority which it was their duty rather to have 
 obeyed than interrupted; but the debates of that 
 night, which produced such destructive votes to 
 them and all their friends, being reported to them, 
 they the next morning came and seized about 
 forty of the members as they were going to the 
 house, and carried them to a house hard by, 
 where they were for the present kept prisoners, 
 j Most of the presbyterian faction, distasted at this 
 [ insolence, would no more come to their seats in 
 the house; but the gentlemen who were of the 
 other faction, or of none at all, but looked upon 
 themselves as called out to manage a public 
 trust for their country, forsook not their seats 
 while they were permitted to sit in the house.J 
 Col. Hutchinson was one of these who infinitely 
 disliked the action of the army, and had once 
 before been instrumental in preventing such 
 another rash attempt, which some of the dis¬ 
 cerning and honest members having a jealousy of, 
 sent him down to discover. When he came, going 
 first to commissary Ireton’s quarters, he found 
 him and some of the soberer officers of the army 
 in great discontent, for that the lieutenant-general - 
 had given order for a sudden advance of the army 
 to London, upon the intelligence they had had 
 of the violent proceedings of the other party, 
 whereupon Cromwell was then in the mind to 
 have come and broken them up ; but Col. Hut¬ 
 chinson, with others, at that time persuaded him 
 that, notwithstanding the prevalency of the pres¬ 
 
 * Ludlow- says, ho wished to do this very thing, hut 
 could not. 
 
 t Dugdale gives a list of the secluded members, forty- 
 one in number, and hence we are furnished with some 
 names which will serve to establish a peculiar fact stated 
 at the latter end of the history of the republic. 
 
 t Whiteiock, who was exactly in the same predica¬ 
 ment, acted in the same manner, and gives the same 
 reasons for it. 
 
 byterian faction, yet there were many who had 
 upright and honest hearts to the public interest, 
 who had not deserved to be so used by them, and 
 who could not join with them in any such irregular 
 ways, although in all just and equitable things 
 they would be their protectors. Whereupon at 
 that time he was staid ;§ but having now drawn 
 the army nearer London, they put this insolent 
 force upon the house. Those who were suffered 
 to remain, not at all approving thereof, sent out 
 their mace to demand their members, but the 
 soldiers would not obey. Yet the parliament 
 thought it better to sit still and go on in their 
 duty than give up all, in so distempered a time, 
 into the hands of the soldiery, especially there 
 having been so specious a pretext of the necessity 
 of securing the whole interest and party from the 
 treachery of those men who contended so earnestly 
 to give up the victors into the hands of their 
 vanquished enemies. Many petitions had been 
 brought to the parliament from thousands of the 
 well-affected of the city of London and West¬ 
 minster and borough of Southwark, and from 
 several counties in England, and from the several 
 regiments of the army, whereof Col. Ingoldsby’s 
 was one of the first, all urging them to perform 
 their covenant, and bring delinquents, without 
 partiality, to justice and condign punishment, and 
 to make inquiry for the guilt of the blood that 
 had been shed in the land in both wars, and to 
 execute justice; lest the not improving the 
 mercies of God should bring judgments in their 
 room. 
 
 Then also a declaration to the same purpose 
 was presented to the house from the lord general 
 Fairfax and his council of officers, and strange it 
 is how men that could afterwards pretend such 
 reluctancy and abhorrence of those things that 
 were done, should forget they were the effective 
 answer of their petitions. 
 
 After the purgation of the house, upon new 
 debate of the treaty at the Isle of Wight, it was 
 concluded dangerous to the realm and destructive 
 to the better interest, and the trial of the king was 
 determined. He was sent for to Westminster, 
 and a commission given forth to a court of high 
 justice, whereof Bradshaw, serjeant-at-law, was 
 president, and divers honourable persons of the 
 parliament, city, and army, nominated commis¬ 
 sioners. Among them Col. Hutchinson was one, 
 who, very much against his own will, was put in, 
 
 § Mrs. Hutchinson does Ireton that justice which White- 
 lock refuses him, who seems to consider him in the light 
 of an instigator: hut this is clearly decided by Ludlow, 
 who declares that “ he himself, being sensible that the 
 presbyterian party were determined to sacrifice the com¬ 
 mon cause to the pleasure of triumphing over the inde¬ 
 pendents and the army, by agreeing with the king, or by 
 any means, went down to apprise Fairfax and Ireton, 
 then at the siege of Colchester, of this design, and to 
 court the interposition of the army. Fairfax readily 
 agreed, but Ireton demurred to interfering till the king 
 and presbyterians should have actually agreed, and the 
 body of the nation been convinced of the iniquity of their 
 coalition.” Additional provocations and imperious cir¬ 
 cumstances afterwards constrained him, but he acted no 
 conspicuous part in the business. In this difference of 
 opinion respecting the interference of the army we may 
 see the source of the dissension which more openly took 
 place afterwards between Col. Hutchinson and Ludlow, 
 and caused the latter to calumniate Col. Hutchinson as 
 he did. 
 

 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 99 
 
 but looking upon himself as called hereunto, durst 
 not refuse it, as holding himself obliged by the 
 covenant of God and the public trust of his 
 country reposed in him, although he was not 
 ignorant of the danger he ran as the condition of 
 things then was. 
 
 In January 1648 the court sat; the king was 
 brought to his trial, and a charge drawn up 
 against him for levying war against the parliament 
 and people of England, for betraying their public 
 trust reposed in him, and for being an implacable 
 enemy to the commonwealth. But the king re¬ 
 fused to plead, disowning the authority of the 
 court, and after three several days persisting m 
 contempt thereof, he was sentenced to suffer death. 
 One thing was remarked in him by many of the 
 court, that when the blood spilt in many of the 
 battles where he was in his own person, and had 
 caused it to be shed by his own command, was 
 laid to his charge, he heard it with disdainful 
 smiles, and looks and gestures, which rather ex- 
 pi’essed sorrow that all the opposite party to him 
 was not cut off, than that any were: and he stuck 
 not to declare in words that no man’s blood spilt 
 in this quarrel troubled him but only one, meaning 
 the Earl of Strafford. The gentlemen that were 
 appointed his judges, and divers others, saw in 
 him a disposition so bent on the ruin of all that 
 opposed him, and of all the righteous and just 
 things they had contended for, that it was upon 
 the consciences of many of them that if they did 
 not execute justice upon him, God would require 
 at their hands all the blood and desolation which 
 should ensue by their suffering him to escape, 
 when God had* brought him into their hands. 
 Although the malice of the malignant party and 
 their apostate brethren seemed to threaten them, 
 yet they thought they ought to cast themselves 
 i upon God, while they acted with a good conscience 
 for him and their country. Some of them after, to 
 excuse,belied themselves, and said they were under 
 the awe of the army, and over-persuaded by Crom¬ 
 well, and the like; but it is certain that all men 
 herein were left to their free liberty of acting, 
 neither persuaded nor compelled; and as there 
 were some nominated in the commission who 
 never sat, and others who sat at first, but durst 
 not hold on, so all the rest might have declined it 
 if they would, when it is apparent they should 
 have suffered nothing by so doing. For those 
 who then declined were afterwards, when they 
 offered themselves, received in again, and had 
 i places of more trust and benefit than those who 
 ran the utmost hazard ; which they deserved not, 
 for I know upon certain knowledge that many, 
 yea the most of them, retreated not for conscience, 
 but for fear and worldly prudence, foreseeing that 
 the insolence of the army might grow to that 
 height as to ruin the cause, and reduce the king¬ 
 dom into the hands of the enemy ; and then those 
 who had been most courageous in their country’s 
 cause should be given up as victims. These poor 
 men did privately animate those who appeared 
 most publicly, and I knew several of them in 
 whom I lived to see that saying of Christ fulfilled, 
 “ He that will save his life shall lose it, and he 
 that for my sake will lose his life shall save it 
 when after it fell out that all their prudent declen¬ 
 sions saved not the lives of some nor the estates 
 of others. As for Mr. Hutchinson, although he 
 
 was very much confirmed in his judgment con¬ 
 cerning the cause, yet here being called to an ex¬ 
 traordinary action, whereof many were of several 
 minds, he addressed himself to God by prayer, 
 desiring the Lord that, if through any human 
 frailty he were led into any error or false opinion 
 in these great transactions, he would open his 
 eyes, and not suffer him to proceed, but that he 
 would confirm his spirit in the truth, and lead 
 him by a right-enlightened conscience ; and find¬ 
 ing no check, but a confirmation in his conscience 
 that it was his duty to act as he did, he, upon 
 serious debate, both privately and in his addresses 
 to God, and in conferences with conscientious, 
 upright, unbiassed persons, proceeded to sign the 
 sentence against the king. Although he did not 
 then believe but it might one day come to be 
 again disputed among men, yet both he and others 
 thought they could not refuse it without giving up 
 the people of God, whom they had led forth and 
 engaged themselves unto by the oath of God, into 
 the hands of God’s and their enemies, and there¬ 
 fore he cast himself upon God’s protection, acting 
 according to the dictates of a conscience which he 
 had sought the Lord to guide, and accordingly the 
 Lord did signalise his favour afterwards to him. 
 
 After the death of the king, it was debated and 
 resolved to change the form of government from 
 monarchical into a commonwealth, and the house 
 of lords was voted dangerous and useless there¬ 
 unto, and dissolved. A council of state was to be 
 annually chosen for the management of affairs, 
 accountable to the parliament, out of which, con¬ 
 sisting of forty counsellors and a president, twenty 
 were every year to go off by lot, and twenty new 
 ones to be supplied. It is true that at that time 
 every man almost was fancying a form of govern ¬ 
 ment, and angry, when this came forth, that his 
 invention took not place ; and among these John 
 Lilbourne, a turbulent-spirited man, that never 
 was quiet in anything, published libels, and the 
 levellers made a disturbance with a kind of insur¬ 
 rection, which Cromwell soon appeased, they indeed 
 being betrayed by their own leaders. 
 
 But how the public business went on, how 
 Cromwell finished the conquest of Ireland, how 
 the angry presbyterians spit fire out of their 
 pulpits, and endeavoured to blow up the people 
 against the parliament, how they entered into a 
 treasonable conspiracy with Scotland, who had 
 now received and crowned the son of the late 
 king, who led them in hither in a great army, 
 which the Lord of hosts discomfited; how our 
 public ministers were assassinated and murdered 
 in Spain and Holland; and how the Dutch, in this 
 unsettlement of affairs, hoped to gain by making 
 war, wherein they were beaten and brought to 
 sue for peace,—I shall leave to the stories that 
 were then written, and only in general say that 
 the hand of God was mightily seen in prospering 
 and preserving the parliament, till Cromwell’s 
 ambition unhappily interrupted them. Mr. Hutch¬ 
 inson was chosen into the first council of state, 
 much against his own will; for, understanding 
 that his cousin Ireton was one of the commis¬ 
 sioners to nominate that council, he sent his wife 
 to him, before he went to the house, that morning 
 they were to be named, to desire him, upon all 
 the scores of kindred and kindness that had been 
 between them, that he might be left out, in regard 
 
 H 2 
 
 
100 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 that he had already wasted his time and his estate 
 in the parliament service, and having neither had 
 recompense for his losses, nor any office of benefit, 
 it would finish his ruin to be tied by this employ¬ 
 ment to a close and chargeable attendance, besides 
 the inconvenience of his health, not yet thoroughly 
 confirmed, his constitution more suitable to an 
 active, than to a sedentary life : these and other 
 i things he privately urged to him; but he, that 
 was a man regardless of his own or any man’s 
 j private interest, wherever he thought the public 
 | service might be advantaged, instead of keeping 
 him out, got him in, when the colonel had pre¬ 
 vailed with others to have indulged him that ease 
 he desired. Mr. Hutchinson, after he had endea¬ 
 voured to decline this employment and could not, 
 thought that herein, as in other occasions, it being 
 put upon him without his own desire, God had 
 called him to his service in councils as formerly 
 in arms, and applied himself to this also, wherein 
 he did his duty faithfully, and employed his power 
 to relieve the oppressed and dejected, freely be¬ 
 coming the advocate of those who had been his 
 late enemies, in all things that were just and 
 charitable. Though he had now an opportunity 
 to have enriched himself, as it is to be feared 
 some in all times have done, by accepting rewards 
 for even just assistances, and wanted not many 
 who offered them and solicited him therein, yet 
 such was his generous nature that he abhorred 
 I the mention of any thing like reward, though 
 never so justly merited ; and although he did a 
 thousand highly obliging kindnesses for many, 
 both friends and enemies, he never had anything 
 in money or presents of any man*. The truth 
 is, on the contrary, he met with many that had 
 not the good manners to make so much as a civil 
 verbal acknowledgment. Among the rest, one 
 j Sir John Owen may stand for a pillar of ingrati¬ 
 tude. This man was wholly unknown to him, 
 and with Duke Hamilton, the Earl of Holland, 
 the Lord Capel, and the Lord Goring, condemned 
 to death by a second high court of justice. Of 
 this, though the colonel was nominated a commis¬ 
 sioner, he would not sit, his unbloody nature 
 desiring to spare the rest of the delinquents, after 
 the highest had suffered, and not delighting in the 
 death of men, when they could live without cruelty 
 to better men. The parliament also was willing 
 to show mercy to some of these, and to execute 
 } others for example; whereupon the whole house 
 j was diversely engaged, some for one, and some 
 for another of these lords, and striving to cast 
 away those they were not concerned in, that they 
 might save their friends. While there was such 
 mighty labour and endeavour for these lords, Col. 
 Hutchinson observed that no man spoke for this 
 poor knight, and, sitting next to Col. Ireton, he 
 expressed himself to him, and told him, that it 
 pitied him much to see that, while all were labour¬ 
 ing to save the lords, a gentleman, that stood in 
 
 * The lists of the first two councils, which embraced 
 almost the whole duration of the republic, are preserved 
 by Whitelock, and Col. Hutchinson is in each of them : he 
 went out at the formation of the third. It is extremely 
 to be regretted that Mrs. Hutchinson should have been so 
 concise in this part of her history, it being a period which 
 naturally excites much curiosity, but of which we have 
 only indistinct, and, generally speaking, invidious and 
 partial accounts. 
 
 the same condemnation, should not find one friend J 
 to ask his life; “ and so,” said he, “ am I moved 
 with compassion that, if you will second me, I am 
 resolved to speak for him, who, I perceive, is a 
 stranger and friendless.” Ireton promised to 
 second him, and accordingly inquiring further of 
 the man’s condition, whether he had not a petition 
 in any member’s hand, he found that his keepers 
 had brought one to the clerk of the house, but 
 the man had not found any one that would interest 
 themselves for him, thinking the lords’ lives of so 
 much more concernment than this gentleman’s. 
 This the more stirred up the colonel’s generous 
 pity, and he took the petition, delivered it, spoke 
 for him so nobly, and was so effectually seconded 
 by Ireton, that they carried his pardon clear. 
 Yet, although one who knew the whole circum¬ 
 stance of the business, how Mr. Hutchinson, moved 
 by mere compassion and generosity, had procured J 
 his life, told him, who admired his own escape, 
 how it came about, he never was the man that 
 so much as once came to give him thanks ; nor 
 was his fellow-prisoner, Goring, for whom the 
 colonel had also effectually solicited, more grateful. 
 
 Some of the army, being very desirous to get 
 among them a person of whose fidelity and integ¬ 
 rity to the cause they had so good experience, 
 had moved it to the general, my lord Fairfax, 
 who had commanded to have it inquired what 
 way he would choose to be employed ; and when 
 he had told them that, in regard of his family, 
 which he would not willingly be much absent 
 from, he should rather accept the government of 
 some town than a field employment, four govei’n- 
 ments were brought to him, to elect which he 
 would have; whereof Plymouth and Portsmouth, 
 and one more in the west, being at a vast distance 
 from his own country, Hull in the north, though 
 a less beneficial charge than the other, he made 
 choice of, thinking they had not offered him any- | 
 thing but what was fairly fallen into their dispose. 
 Soon after this the lieutenant-general, Cromwell, 
 desired him to meet him one afternoon at a com¬ 
 mittee, where, when he came, a malicious accusa¬ 
 tion against the governor of Hull was violently 
 prosecuted by a fierce faction in that town. To 
 this the governor had sent up a very fair and 
 honest defence, yet most of the committee more 
 favouring the adverse faction, were labouring to 
 cast out the governor. Col. Hutchinson, though 
 he knew him not, was very earnest in his defence. I 
 whereupon Cromwell drew him aside, and asked I 
 him what he meant to contend so, to keep in that I 
 governor? (it was Overton). The colonel told I 
 him, because he saw nothing proved against him I 
 worthy of being ejected. “But,” said Cromwell, I 
 “ we like him not.” Then said the colonel, “ Do I 
 it upon that account, and blemish not a man that I 
 is innocent upon false accusations, because you jg 
 like him not.” “ But,” said Cromwell, “we would I 
 have him out, because the government is designed I 
 for you, and except you put him out you cannot I 
 have the place.” At this the colonel was very I 
 angry, and with great indignation told him, if 1 
 there was no way to bring him into their army 1 
 but by casting out others unjustly, he would |K 
 rather fall naked before his enemies, than so seek I 
 to put himself into a posture of defence. Then I 
 returning to the table, he so eagerly undertook I 
 the injured governor’s protection that he foiled I 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 101 
 
 his enemies, and the governor was confirmed in j 
 j his place. This so displeased Cromwell that, as 
 before, so much more now, he saw that even his 
 own interest would not bias him into any unjust 
 faction, he secretly laboured to frustrate the at¬ 
 tempts of all others who, for the same reason that 
 Cromwell laboured to keep him out, laboured as 
 much to bring him in. 
 
 But now had the poison of ambition so ulcerated 
 Cromwell’s heart, that the effects of it became 
 more apparent than before, and while as yet Fair¬ 
 fax stood an empty name, he was moulding the 
 army to his mind, weeding out the godly and 
 i upright-hearted men, both officers and soldiers, 
 
 I and filling up their rooms with rascally turn-coat 
 I cavaliers, and pitiful sottish beasts of his own 
 j alliance, and others such as would swallow all 
 things, and make no question for conscience sake. 
 Yet this he did not directly nor in tumult, but by 
 such degrees that it was unperceived by all that 
 were not of very penetrating eyes ; and those that 
 made the loudest outcries against him lifted up 
 their voices with such apparent envy and malice 
 ' j that, in that mist, they rather hid than discovered 
 his ambitious minings. Among these Col. Rich, 
 
 I and Commissary Staines, and Watson, had made 
 a design even against his life, and the busmess 
 was brought to the examination of the council of 
 state. Before the hearing of it, Col. Rich came 
 to Col. Hutchinson and implored his assistance 
 with tears, affirming all the crimes of Cromwell, 
 but not daring to justify his accusations, although 
 the colonel advised him if they were true to stand 
 boldly to it, if false to acknowledge his own 
 iniquity. The latter course he took, and the 
 | council had resolved upon the just punishment of 
 the men, when Cromwell, having only thus in a 
 private council vindicated himself from their 
 malice, and laid open what pitiful, sneaking, poor 
 knaves they were, how ungrateful to him, and 
 how treacherous and cowardly to themselves, he 
 became their advocate, and made it his suit they 
 might be no farther published or punished. This 
 being permitted him, and they thus rendered con¬ 
 temptible to others, they became beasts and slaves 
 to him, who knew how to serve himself of them 
 without trusting them. This generosity, for in¬ 
 deed he carried himself with the greatest bravery 
 that is imaginable herein, much advanced his 
 glory, and cleared him in the eyes of superficial 
 beholders; but others saw he crept on, and could 
 ! not stop him, while fortune itself seemed to pre¬ 
 pare his way on sundry occasions. All this while 
 he carried to Mr. Hutchinson the most open face, 
 and made the most obliging professions of friend¬ 
 ship imaginable ; but the colonel saw through him, 
 and forbore not often to tell him what was sus¬ 
 pected of his ambition, what dissimulations of his 
 were remarked, and how dishonourable to the 
 name of God and the profession of religion, and 
 destructive to the most glorious cause, and dan¬ 
 gerous to overthrow all our triumphs, these things 
 i which were suspected of him would be, if true. 
 
 I He would seem to receive these cautions and 
 admonitions as the greatest demonstrations of 
 integrity and friendship that could be made, and 
 
 I ! embrace the colonel in his arms, and make serious 
 lying professions to him, and often inquire men’s 
 opinions concerning him, which the colonel never 
 forbore to tell him plainly, although he knew he 
 
 1 
 
 resented it not as he made show, yet it pleased 
 him so to discharge his own thoughts *, 
 
 The islanders of Jersey wanting a governor, and 
 being acquainted, through the familiarity many 
 of their countrymen had with the abilities and 
 honour of Col. Hutchinson, they addressed them¬ 
 selves to my Lord General Fairfax, and petitioned 
 to have him for their governor 1 , which my lord 
 assented to ; and accordingly commanded a com¬ 
 mission to be drawn up, which was done ; but 
 the colonel made not haste to take it out. But 
 my lord, having ordered the commission, regarded 
 him as governor, and when the model of the castle 
 was brought to my lord to procure orders and 
 money for the repair of the fortifications, he sent 
 it to the colonel, and all other business concern¬ 
 ing the island. 
 
 In the meantime, the Scots having declared 
 open war against the parliament of England, it 
 was concluded to send an army into Scotland, to 
 prevent their intended advance hither. But when 
 they were just marching out, my Lord Fairfax, 
 persuaded by his wife and her chaplains, threw up 
 his commission at such a time, when it could not 
 have been done more spitefully and ruinously to 
 the whole parliament interest. Col. Hutchinson 
 and other parliament men, hearing of his inten¬ 
 tions the night before, and knowing that he would 
 thus level the way to Cromwell’s ambitious designs, 
 went to him and laboured to dissuade him ; which 
 they had effected, but that the presbyterian minis¬ 
 ters wrought with him to do it. He expressed 
 that he believed God laid him aside, as not being 
 worthy of more, nor of that glory which was 
 already given him. 
 
 To speak the truth of Cromwell, whereas many 
 said he undermined Fairfax, it was false; for in Col. 
 Hutchinson’s presence, he most effectually impor¬ 
 tuned him to keep his commission, lest it should 
 discourage the army and the people in that junc¬ 
 ture of time, but could by no means prevail, 
 although he laboured it almost all the night with 
 most earnest endeavoursf. But this great man 
 was then as immoveable by his friends, as pertina¬ 
 cious in obeying his wife ; whereby he then died 
 to all his former glory, and became the monument 
 of his own name, which every day w r ore out. 
 When his commission was given up, Cromwell 
 was made general, and new commissions taken 
 out by all the officers from him. He finding that 
 Col. Hutchinson’s commission for the island was 
 not taken out, and that he addressed not to him, 
 made haste to prevent the islanders, and gave a 
 commission for the government to one of his own 
 creatures. At this time the Lady Dormer being 
 
 ♦ Men who think superficially will instantly proclaim 
 the simplicity of Col. Hutchinson and the shrewdness of 
 Cromwell; those who think deeper, will in that simplicity 
 see wisdom, in that shrewdness a more exquisite folly. 
 In life, in death, and in reputation, which of these two 
 was the happier ? 
 
 t Whitelock tells the same story nearly in the same 
 manner, but thinks Cromwell was not sincere: yet cer¬ 
 tainly he took all the same steps with those who were 
 unquestionably so. How little soever Cromwell might 
 wish to succeed, there was good policy in attending this 
 conference, as it might in some degree serve to diminish 
 the suspicions entertained of his own ambitious views, 
 and prevent their being urged in argument to Fairfax, 
 which if he had been absent they most likely would have 
 been. 
 
102 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 dead, had left to her grandchild, a papist, the 
 Lady Anne Somerset, daughter to the Marquis 
 of Worcester, a manor in Leicestershire, which 
 the lady, being more desirous of a portion in 
 money, had a great mind to sell, and came and 
 offered it to Col. Hutchinson, with whom she had 
 some alliance ; but he told her he was not in a 
 purchasing condition, whereupon she earnestly 
 begged him, that if he would not buy it himself, 
 he would procure of the parliament that she 
 might have leave to sell it. This he moved and 
 was repulsed, whereupon both the lady, and one 
 that was her priest, who negotiated for her, and 
 other friends, most earnestly solicited Col. Hut¬ 
 chinson to buy it ; who urging that he had not 
 money for such a purchase, they offered him time 
 of payment, till he could sell his own land, and 
 assured him it should be such a pennyworth, as 
 he should not repent the selling his own land to 
 buy it. He urged to them the trouble and diffi¬ 
 culty it would be to obtain it, and that it might 
 so fall that he must lay a weight upon it, more 
 than the thing would be worth to him, he never 
 having yet made any request to the house, and 
 having reason to expect recompenses for the loss 
 of his estate, as well as others. But my lady still 
 importuned him, promising a pennyworth in it, 
 that should countervail the difficulty and the 
 trouble ; whereupon, at the last, he contracted 
 with her, upon both her and her brother’s desire, 
 the Lord Herbert, who was her next heir, and 
 was then at full age, and gave a release of all 
 claim to it, under his hand and seal ; and my 
 lady, being between nineteen and twenty years old, 
 then passed a fine, and covenanted at her coming 
 to full age to pass another, and absolutely bar¬ 
 gained and sold the land to Col. Hutchinson, who 
 secured the price of it to the Marquis of Dor¬ 
 chester, whom the lady and her friends had a 
 great hope and desire to compass for a husband, 
 and had thoughts, that when the portion was 
 secured in his hands, it would be easily effected. 
 This they afterwards entrusted to Col. Hutchin¬ 
 son, and desired his assistance to propound the 
 business to my lord, as from himself, out of 
 mutual well-wishes to both parties ; but my lord 
 would not hearken to it, though the colonel, will¬ 
 ing to do her a kindness, endeavoured to persuade 
 him, as much as was fitting. In the mean time 
 the colonel could not, by all the friends and in¬ 
 terest he had in the house, procure a composition 
 and leave for my lady to sell her land, because 
 they said it would be a precedent to other papists, 
 and some moved, that what service he had done, 
 and what he had lost, might be some other way 
 considered, rather than this any way suffered. 
 But he vigorously pursuing it, and laying all the 
 weight of all his merits and sufferings upon it, all 
 that lie could obtain at last was, to be himself admit¬ 
 ted, in his own name, for taking off the seques¬ 
 tration, after he had bought it, which he did ; and 
 they took two thousand pounds of him for his 
 composition. By the interest of Sir Henry Vane 
 and several others of his friends, powerful in the 
 house, this too was with much difficulty wrought 
 out, though violently opposed by several others. 
 Of these Major-general Harrison was one, and he, 
 when he saw that he could not prevail, but that 
 in favour particularly to Col. Hutchinson, it was 
 carried out by his friends ; after the rising of the 
 
 house, meeting the colonel, he embraced him, and 
 desired him not to think he did it in any personal / 
 opposition to him, but in his j udgment, who though t 
 it fit the spoil should be taken out of the enemy’s t 
 hands, and no composition admitted from idolaters. 
 Whatever might be particular advantage to him, 
 he envied not, but rejoiced in, only he so dearly 
 loved him, that he desired he would not set his I 
 heart upon the augmenting of outward estate, but 
 upon the things of the approaching kingdom of 
 God, concerning which he made a most pious and 
 seeming friendly harangue, of at least an hour long, 1 
 with all the demonstrations of zeal to God and 
 love to the colonel that can be imagined. But I 
 the colonel, having reason to fear that he knew j 
 not his own spirit herein, made him only a short j 
 reply, that he thanked him for his counsel, and 
 should endeavour to follow it, as became the duty 
 of a Christian, and should be glad to be as effec¬ 
 tually instructed by his example as his admonition. 
 For at that time the major-general, who was but 
 a mean man’s son, and of a mean education, and 
 no estate before the war, had gathered an estate 
 of two thousand a year, besides engrossing great 
 offices, and encroaching upon his under officers, 
 and maintained his coach and family, at a height 
 as if they had been born to principality. 
 
 About the same time a great ambassador was 
 to have public audience in the house ; he came 
 from the king of Spain, and was the first who had 
 addressed to them owning them as a republic. 
 The day before his audience, Col. Hutchinson 
 was set in the house, near some young men hand¬ 
 somely clad, among whom was Mr. Charles Rich, 
 since Earl of Warwick ; and the colonel himself 
 had on that day a habit which was pretty rich but 
 grave, and no other than he usually wore. Har¬ 
 rison addressing particularly to him, admonished 
 them all, that now the nations sent to them, they 
 should labour to shine before them in wisdom, 
 piety, righteousness, and justice, and not in gold 
 and silver and worldly bravery, which did not 
 become saints ; and that the next day when the j 
 ambassadors came they should not set themselves 
 out in gorgeous habits, which were unsuitable to 
 holy professions. The colonel, although he was 
 not convinced of any misbecoming bravery in the 
 suit he wore that day, which was but of sad 
 coloured cloth trimmed with gold, and silver 
 points and buttons ; yet because he would not 
 appear offensive in the eyes of religious persons, j 
 the next day he went in a plain black suit, and so j 
 did all the other gentlemen, but Harrison came 
 that day in a scarlet coat and cloak, both laden 
 with gold and silver lace, and the coat so covered I 
 with clinquant*, that scarcely could one discern 
 the ground, and in this glittering habit, set him¬ 
 self just under the speaker’s chair ; which made 
 the other gentlemen think that his godly speeches, 
 the day before, were but made, that he alone 
 might appear in the eyes of strangers. But this was 
 part of his weakness; the Lord at last lifted him above 
 these poor earthly elevations, which then and some¬ 
 time after prevailed too much with him'f*. 
 
 After the colonel had bought my lady’s land, li 
 
 * Clinquant; French, foil. 
 
 t Ludlow gives very extraordinary accounts of his devo¬ 
 tion to that which he thought the cause of God, as well as 
 of his readiness to suffer martyrdom for it when it was in 
 his power to avoid that severe trial. 
 
 ■■ 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 103 
 
 some that were extremely vexed at her having that 
 sum of money, dealt with the colonel to permit 
 them to sequester it in his hands, and offered him 
 he should have it all himself, which, he told them, 
 he would be torn to pieces before he would do, 
 and that it was a treachery and villany that he 
 abhorred. Though, notwithstanding this, he was 
 much pressed he would not yield, and to prevent 
 force, which they threatened, after moving in the 
 house how dangerous it was to suffer such a sum 
 of money to be in the hands of the daughter of an 
 excepted person, especially at such a time (for 
 now the king was crowned in Scotland, and the 
 Scots ready to invade, and the presbyters to join 
 with them), the colonel put the money out of his 
 own hands, to preserve it for my lady. All that 
 time both she and her brother, and other friends, 
 made all the acknowledgments of obligation that 
 was possible. Not to confound stories, I finish the 
 memorial of this here. 
 
 After the parliament was broken up by Crom¬ 
 well, and after that my lady, seeing her project of 
 marrying with my Lord Dorchester would not 
 take, had embraced an offer of Mr. Henry Howard, 
 second son to the Earl of Arundel; and when, in 
 the protector’s time, the papists wanted not patrons, 
 she began to repent the selling of her land, which 
 before she thought such a blessing, and told her 
 husband false stories, as he alleged, though his 
 future carriage made it justly suspicious he was 
 as unworthy as she. 
 
 The colonel, presently after he had that land, 
 had very much improved it, to a fourth part more 
 than it was at when he bought it, and they, envy¬ 
 ing his good bargain, desired to have it again out 
 of his hands, nor dealt fairly and directly in the 
 thing, but employed a cunning person, Major 
 Wildman, who was then a great manager of 
 papists’ interests, to get the land again, which he 
 was to have four hundred pounds for, if he could 
 do it. Whereupon he presently got money and 
 came to the gentleman who had a mortgage upon 
 it, for three thousand pounds taken up to pay my 
 lady, and tendered it. But Mr. Ash, a great 
 friend of the colonel’s, was so faithful that he 
 would not accept it, and then Wildman began a 
 chancery suit, thinking that the colonel, being out 
 of favour with the present powers, would be 
 necessitated to take any composition. When he 
 had put the colonel to a great deal of vain charge, 
 and found he could do no good, at last they desired 
 to make up the business, and the lady and Mr. 
 Howard passed a new fine to confirm the title, and 
 the colonel was delivered from further trouble 
 with them, till after the change and the return of 
 the king. Then, when the parliament-men began 
 to come into question for their lives, my Lord of 
 Portland and Mr. Howard came to Mrs. Hut¬ 
 chinson’s lodgings three or four times, while she 
 was out soliciting for her husband, and my lord 
 left her a message, that he must needs speak 
 with her, upon a business of much concernment; 
 whereupon she sought out my lord, knowing 
 that he had professed much kindness and obliga¬ 
 tion to her husband, and thinking he might have 
 some design now to acknowledge it by some 
 real assistance. But when she came to him, he 
 told her, her husband was in danger of his life, 
 and that if he would resign back Loseby to Mr. 
 Howard, he would help him to a good sum of 
 
 money to fly, and Mr. Howard would stand to the 
 hazard of buying it; but she being vexed that my 
 lord should interrupt her with this frivolous pro¬ 
 position, told my lord she would hazard it with 
 the rest of her estate, rather than make up such 
 desperate bargains. When Mr. Howard saw this 
 would not do, he prepared a petition to get it 
 excepted out of the act of oblivion, pretending 
 that his wife being under age, the colonel had by 
 power and fraud wrested her out of her estate. 
 But when he showed this petition to his friends, 
 they being informed of the falseness of the allega¬ 
 tions, would none of them undertake either to 
 deliver or back it. Only one Sir Richard Onslow 
 was a violent man, railing against the colonel con¬ 
 cerning this, but he not long after died by a blast of 
 lightning. Others of his friends, when they under¬ 
 stood that he himself had joined in the confirmation 
 of the fine, after the colonel was retired, in the pro¬ 
 tector’s reign, bade him for shame no more make 
 mention of his lady’s being fooled or frightened to 
 an act which he had voluntarily done. Many told 
 the colonel how unsafe it was to displease a person 
 who had so many powerful allies that might 
 mischief him, but the colonel would neither be 
 frighted nor flattered to give away his estate, 
 which when Mr. Howard found, he let fall his 
 purpose, and made no more vain endeavours. 
 
 And now to return to his story where I left it, 
 I shall not mention every particular action of his 
 in the employment of a senator and counsellor of 
 the realms, but only some which were more 
 remarkable, to show the honour and excellency of 
 his nature, among which this was one. When 
 his old opposites and enemies of the Nottingham 
 committee had entered into the presbyterian con¬ 
 spiracy, so deep, that their lives were forfeit to 
 the law, had they been brought to public trial, 
 and this was discovered to him; and also that 
 Col. Pierrepont was the chief of them, he took 
 care to have the business so managed that Col. 
 Pierrepont was passed by in the information, and 
 others so favourably accused, that they were only 
 restrained from the mischief they intended, and 
 kept prisoners till the danger was over, and after, 
 through his mediation released, without any fur¬ 
 ther punishment on their persons and estates, 
 though Chadwick’s eldest son was one of these. 
 For Col. Pierrepont, he only privately admonished 
 him, and endeavoured to reclaim him, which the 
 man, being good-natured, was infinitely overcome 
 with, insomuch that ever after, to his dying day, 
 all his envy ceased, and he professed all imaginable 
 friendship and kindness to the colonel. Indeed 
 his excellent gentleness was such, that he not only 
 protected and saved these enemies, wherein there 
 was some glory of passing by revenge, but was 
 compassionately affected with the miseries of any 
 poor women or children, who had been unfor¬ 
 tunately, though deservedly, ruined in the civil 
 war ; and without any interest of his own in the 
 persons, whenever any ruined family came to 
 seek relief, where he was in power, he was as 
 zealous in assisting all such, as far as it might be 
 done with the safety of the commonwealth, as if 
 they had been his brothers. As it was a misery 
 to be bewailed in those days, that many of the 
 parliament party exercised cruelty, injustice, and 
 oppression to their conquered enemies, wherever 
 he discovered it he violently opposed it, and de- 
 
104 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 fended even those enemies that were hy might 
 oppressed and defrauded of the mercies of the 
 parliament. Upon this account he had contests 
 with some good men, who were weak in these 
 things, some through too factious a zeal, and 
 others blinded with their own or their friends’ 
 interests. Among these Col. Hacker’s father, 
 having married my Lady Biron’s mother, was 
 made a trustee for the estate of her son, which 
 she had by Strelley her first husband. He had 
 about £1800 of the estate of young Strelley in his 
 hands, which, he dying, his eldest son and heir, 
 Col. Francis Hacker, was liable, and justly ought 
 to pay. Young Strelley died in France, and left 
 his estate to his half brother, the son of Sir 
 Richard Biron, who, all the time of the first war, 
 was at school in Col. Hutchinson’s garrison at 
 Nottingham, and after was sent into France. 
 Being there, an infant, when this estate fell to 
 him, he returned and chose Col. Hutchinson for 
 his guardian, who, overcame Col. Hacker in the 
 right of his pupil, and recovered that money out 
 of his hands, which he would not have paid, if the 
 infant had not found a friend that was heartily 
 zealous to obtain his just right. Sir Arthur 
 Haslerig was a great patron of Col. Hacker’s, and 
 laboured to bear him out against justice and the 
 infant’s right in this thing; and, when the colonel 
 had overcome him, they were both displeased; 
 for Hacker, on the other side, was such a creature 
 of Sir Arthur’s, that, without questioning justice 
 or honesty, he was more diligent in obeying Sir 
 Arthur’s than God’s commands. Sir Allen Apsley 
 had articles at the rendition of Barnstable, whereof 
 he was governor, and contrary to these, he was 
 put to vast expense and horrible vexation by 
 several persons, but especially by one wicked 
 woman, who had the worst and the smoothest 
 tongue that ever her sex made use of to mischief. 
 She was handsome in her youth, and had very 
 pretty girls to her daughters, whom, when they 
 grew up, she prostituted to her revenge and malice 
 against Sir Allen Apsley, which was so venomous 
 and devilish, that she stuck not at inventing false 
 accusations, and hiring witnesses to swear them, 
 and a thousand other as enormous practices. In 
 those days there was a committee set up, for relief 
 of such as had any violation of their articles, and 
 of this Bradshaw was president; into whose easy 
 ! faith this woman, pretending herself religious, 
 and of the parliament’s party, had so insinuated 
 j herself, that Sir Allen’s way of relief was ob¬ 
 structed. Col. Hutchinson labouring mightily in 
 his protection, and often foiling this vile woman, 
 aud bringing to light her devilish practices, turned 
 the woman’s spite into as violent a tumult against 
 himself, end Bradshaw was so hot in abetting her, 
 that he grew cool in his kindness to the colonel, 
 yet broke it not quite: but the colonel was very 
 much grieved that a friend should engage in so 
 unjust an opposition. At last it was manifest 
 liow much they were mistaken that would have 
 assisted this woman upon a score of being on the 
 parliament’s side, for she was all this while a spy 
 for the king, and after his return, Sir Allen Apsley 
 met her in the king’s chamber waiting for recom¬ 
 pense for that service. The thing she sued Sir 
 Allen Apsley for, was for a house of hers in the 
 garrison of Barnstaple, which was pulled down to 
 fortify the town for the king, before he was go¬ 
 
 vernor of the place. Yet would she have had his 
 articles violated to make her a recompense out of 
 his estate, treble and more than the value of the 
 house, pretending she was of the parliament’s 
 party, and that Sir Allen, in malice thereunto, had 
 without necessity pulled .down her house. All 
 which were horrible lies, but so maliciously and 
 so wickedly affirmed and sworn by her mer¬ 
 cenary witnesses, that they at first found faith, 
 and it was hard for truth afterwards to overcome 
 that prepossession. 
 
 The colonel prosecuting the defence of truth 
 and justice in these and many more things, and 
 abhorring all councils of securing the young com¬ 
 monwealth by cruelty and oppression of the 
 vanquished, who had not laid down their hate in 
 delivering up their arms, and were therefore, by 
 some cowards, judged unworthy of the mercy 
 extended to them,—the colonel, I say', disdaining 
 such thoughts, displeased many of his own party, 
 who, in the main, we hope, might have been 
 honest, although, through divers temptations, 
 guilty of horrible slips, which did more offend the 
 colonel’s pure zeal, who detested these sins more 
 in brethren than in enemies. 
 
 Now was Cromwell sole general, and marched 
 into Scotland, and the Scots ready to invade, and 
 the presbyters to assist them here. The army 
 being small, there was a necessity of recruits, and 
 the council of state soliciting all the parliament- 
 men that had interest, to improve it in this exi¬ 
 gence of time, they gave Col. Hutchinson a com¬ 
 mission for a regiment of horse. He immediately 
 got up three troops, well armed and mounted, of 
 his own old soldiers, that thirsted to be again em¬ 
 ployed under him, and was preparing the rest of 
 the regiment to carry after them himself, when he 
 was informed, that as soon as his troops came 
 into Scotland, Cromwell very readily received 
 them, but would not let them march together, but 
 dispersed them to fill up the regiments of those 
 who were more his creatures. The colonel hear¬ 
 ing this, would not carry him any more, but rather 
 employed himself in securing, as much as was ne¬ 
 cessary, his own country, for which he was sent 
 down by the council of state, who at that time 
 were very much surprised at hearing that the 
 king of Scots had passed by Cromwell, and en¬ 
 tered with a great army into England. Bradshaw 
 himself, stout-hearted as he was, privately could 
 not conceal his fear : some raged and uttered sad 
 discontents against Cromwell, and suspicions of 
 his fidelity, they all considering that Cromwell 
 was behind, of whom I think they scarce had any 
 account, or of his intention, or how this error 
 came about to suffer the enemy to enter here, 
 where there was no army to encounter him. 
 Both the city and country (by the angry pres¬ 
 byters, wavering in their constancy to them and 
 the liberties they had purchased,) were all amazed 
 and doubtful of their own and the commonwealth’s* 
 safety. Some could, not hide very pale and un¬ 
 manly fears, and were in such distraction of spirit, 
 as much disturbed their councils. Col. Hutchinson, 
 who ever had most vigour and cheerfulness when 
 there was most danger, encouraged them as they 
 were one day in a private council, raging and 
 crying out on Cromwell’s miscarriages, to apply 
 themselves to councils of safety, and not to lose 
 time in accusing others, while they might yet pro- 
 
105 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 vide to save the endangered realm, at least to fall 
 nobly in defence of it, and not to yield to fear and 
 despair. These and such like things being urged, 
 at length they recollected themselves, and every 
 man that had courage and interest in their 
 countries, went down to look to them *. Col. 
 Hutchinson came down into Nottinghamshire, 
 and secured those who were suspicious to make 
 any commotion, and put the country into such a 
 posture of defence as the time would permit. But 
 it was not long before the lung chose another way, 
 and went to Worcester. Cromwell following 
 swiftly after with his army, and other forces meet¬ 
 ing him from several other parts, they fought 
 with the king and his Scots, totally routed and 
 subdued him, and he, with difficulty, after con¬ 
 cealment in an oak and many other shifts, stole 
 away into France. 
 
 When the colonel heard how Cromwell used 
 his troops, he was confirmed that he and his asso¬ 
 ciates in the army were carrying on designs of 
 private ambition, and resolved that none should 
 share with them in the commands of the army or 
 forts of the nation, but such as would be beasts, 
 and ridden upon by the proud chiefs. Disdaining, 
 therefore, that what he had preserved for the 
 liberty of his country, should be a curb upon 
 them, and foreseeing that some of Cromwell’s 
 creatures would at length be put in, to exercise 
 him with continual affronts, and to hinder any man 
 from standing up for the deliverance of the 
 country, if the insolence of the army (which he 
 too sadly foresaw) should put them upon it; for 
 this reason, in Cromwell’s absence, he procured 
 an order for the removal of the garrison at Not¬ 
 tingham, which was commanded by his kinsman 
 Major Poulton, into the marching army, and the 
 demolishing of the place ; which accordingly was 
 speedily executed. 
 
 When Major Poulton, who had all a.ong been 
 very faithful and active in the cause, brought his 
 men to the army, he was entertained with such 
 affronts and neglects by the general, that he 
 voluntarily quitted his command, and retired to 
 the ruined place, where the castle was which he 
 had bought with his arrears f. When Cromwell 
 
 * The trepidation of the council of state, and the zeal 
 with which they were supported, are well described by 
 Whitelock. Whether Cromwell suffered the king to pass 
 by him designedly or otherwise, is uncertain; but it is 
 very likely that he did it by design, as knowing that those 
 who did not like, for the same reason as Col. Hutchinson, 
 to send forces to him, would, for their own sakes, bring 
 them forward to oppose the king. Either his fortune or 
 his judgment was great. 
 
 t The machinations of Cromwell are spoken of in 
 general terms by Itapin, Whitelock, and others; but no¬ 
 where so well detailed as here. Of all things the most 
 necessary to Cromwell was to obtain soldiers and subaltern 
 ; officers perfectly subservient to his own purposes, but this 
 he could hope to effect then and then only, when he had 
 ! deprived them of such superior officers as would have 
 j preserved them from deception, and have kept them 
 i faithful to their country. The present and similar occur- 
 L renccs furnished him with the means so to do, which he 
 I employed most assiduously. Ludlow, vol. iii. p. 21. 
 I “And thus the troops of the parliament, who were »ot 
 | raised out of the meanest of the people and without dis- 
 j tinction, as other armies had been ; but consisted of such 
 as had engaged themselves from a spirit of liberty in the 
 1 defence of their rights and religion, were corrupted by 
 him, kept as a standing force against the people, taught to 
 
 came back through the country ana saw the castle 
 pulled down, he was heartily vexed at it, and told 
 Col. Hutchinson, that if he had been there when 
 it was voted, he should not have suffered it. 
 The colonel replied, that he had procured it to be 
 done, and believed it to be his duty to ease the 
 people of charge, when there was no more need 
 of it. 
 
 When Cromwell came to London, there wanted 
 not some little creatures of his in the house, who 
 had taken notice of all that had been said of him 
 when he let the king slip by; how some stuck not 
 in their fear and rage to call him traitor, and to 
 threaten his head. These reports added spurs to his 
 ambition, but that his son-in-law, Ireton, deputy of 
 Ireland, would not be wrought to serve him, but 
 hearing of his machinations, determined to come 
 over to England to endeavour to divert him from 
 such destructive courses. But God cut him short 
 by death, and whether his body, or an empty coffin 
 was bx’ouglit into England, something in his name 
 came to London, and was to be, by Cromwell’s 
 procurement, magnificently buried among the 
 kings at Westminster. Col. Hutchinson was, 
 after his brother, one of the nearest kinsmen he 
 had, but Cromwell who of late studied him neg¬ 
 lects, passed him by, and neither sent him mourn¬ 
 ing, nor particular invitation to the funeral, only 
 the speaker gave public notice in the house, that 
 all the members were desired to attend him ; and 
 such was the flattery of many pitiful lords and 
 other gentlemen, parasites, that they put them¬ 
 selves into deep mourning ; but Col. Hutchinson 
 that day put on a scarlet cloak, very richly laced, 
 such as he usually wore, and coming into the room 
 where the members were, seeing some of the lords 
 in mourning, he went to them to inquire the cause, 
 who told him they had put it on to honour the 
 general; and asked again why he, that was a 
 kinsman, was in such a different colour ? He told 
 them, because the general had neglected sending 
 to him, when he had sent to many that had no 
 alliance, only to make up the train ; he was re¬ 
 solved he would not flatter so much as to buy for 
 himself, although he was a true mourner in his 
 heart for his cousin, whom he had ever loved, and 
 would, therefore, go and take his place among his 
 mourners. This he did, and went into the room 
 where the close mourners were : who seeing him 
 come in as different from mourning as he could 
 make himself, the alderman came to him, making 
 a great apology that they mistook and thought he 
 was out of town, and had much injured themselves 
 thereby, to whom it would have been one of their 
 greatest honours to have had his assistance in the 
 befitting habit, as now it was their shame to have 
 neglected him. But Cromwell who had ordered 
 all things, was piqued horribly at it, though he 
 dissembled his resentment at that time, and joined 
 in excusing the neglect ; but he very well under¬ 
 stood that the colonel neither out of ignorance nor 
 niggardliness came in that habit, but publicly to 
 reproach their neglects. 
 
 After the death of Ireton, Lambert was voted 
 
 forget their first engagements, and rendered as mercenary 
 as other troops are accustomed to be.” From about this 
 period, then, we may date the change of sentiment of tho 
 army in general, and of course the change of opinion 
 respecting them in the minds of Col. Hutchinson and 
 others who before had sided with them. 
 
106 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 deputy of Ireland, and commander-in-chief there, 
 who being at that time in the north, was exceed¬ 
 ingly elevated with the honour, and courted all 
 Fairfax’s old commanders, and other gentlemen, 
 who, upon his promises of preferment, quitted their 
 places, and many of them came to London and 
 made him up there a very proud train, which still 
 exalted him, so that too soon he put on the prince, 
 immediately laying out five thousand pounds for 
 his own particular equipage, and looking upon 
 all the parliament-men, who had conferred this 
 honour upon him, as underlings, and scarce worth 
 the great man’s nod. This untimely declaration 
 of his pride gave great offence to the parliament, 
 who having only given him a commission for six 
 months for his deputyship, made a vote that, 
 after the expiration of that time, the presi¬ 
 dency of the civil and military power of that 
 nation should no more be in his nor any one man’s 
 hands again. This vote was upon Cromwell’s pro¬ 
 curement, who hereby designed to make way for 
 his new son-in-law, Col. Fleetwood, who had 
 married the widow of the late deputy Ireton. 
 There went a story that as my Lady Ireton was 
 walking t in St. James’s park, the Lady Lambert, 
 as proud as her husband, came by where she was, 
 and as the present princess always has precedency 
 of the relict of the dead prince, so she put my 
 Lady Ireton below ; who, notwithstanding her 
 piety and humility, was a little grieved at the 
 affront. Col. Fleetwood being then present, in 
 mourning for his wife, who died at the same time 
 her lord did, took occasion to introduce himself, 
 and was immediately accepted by the lady and 
 her father, who designed thus to restore his 
 daughter to the honour she was fallen from. His 
 plot took as himself could wish, for Lambert, who 
 saw himself thus cut off from half his exaltation, 
 sent the house an insolent message, “ that if they 
 found him so unworthy of the honour they had 
 given him, as so soon to repent it, he would not 
 retard their remedy for six months, but was 
 ready to surrender their commission before he 
 entered into his office.” They took him at his 
 word, and made Fleetwood deputy, and Ludlow 
 commander of the horse ; whereupon Lambert, 
 with a heart full of spite, malice, and revenge, 
 retreated to his palace at Wimbledon, and sat 
 there watching an opportunity to destroy the par¬ 
 liament. 
 
 Cromwell, although he chiefly wrought this 
 business in the house, yet flattered with Lambert, 
 and, having another reach of ambition in his breast, 
 helped to inflame Lambert against those of the 
 parliament who were not his creatures, and to 
 cast the odium of his disgrace upon them, and 
 profess his own clearness in it, and pity of him, 
 that should be drawn into such an inconvenience 
 as the charge of putting himself into equipage, and 
 the loss of all that provision; which Cromwell, 
 pretending generosity, took all upon his own ac¬ 
 count, and delivered him of the debt. Lambert 
 dissembled again on his part, and insinuated him¬ 
 self into Cromwell, fomenting his ambition to take 
 the administration of all the conquered nations 
 into his own hands; but finding themselves not 
 strong enough alone, they took to them Major- 
 general Harrison, who had a great interest both 
 in the army and the churches; and these, pre¬ 
 tending a pious trouble that there were such 
 
 delays in the administration of justice, and such 
 perverting of right, endeavoured to bring all good 
 men into dislike of the parliament, pretending that 
 they would perpetuate themselves in their honours 
 and offices, and had no care to bring in those 
 glorious things for which they had so many years 
 contended in blood and toil. The parliament, on 
 the other side, had now, by the blessing of God, 
 restored the commonwealth to such a happy, rich, 
 and plentiful condition, as it was not so flourishing 
 before the war, and although the taxes that were 
 paid were great, yet the people were rich and 
 able to pay them: they (the parliament) were in 
 a way of paying all the soldiers’ arrears, had some 
 hundred thousand pounds in their purses, and 
 were free from enemies in arms within and with¬ 
 out, except the Dutch, whom they had beaten and 
 brought to seek peace upon honourable terms to 
 the English; and now they thought it was time to 
 sweeten the people, and deliver them from their 
 burthens. This could not be but by disbanding 
 the unnecessary officers and soldiers, and when 
 things were thus settled, they had prepared a bill 
 to put a period to their own sitting, and provide 
 for new successors. But when the great officers 
 understood that they were to resign their honours, 
 and no more triumph in the burthens of the people, 
 they easily induced the inferior officers and soldiers 
 to set up for themselves with them; and while 
 these things were passing, Cromwell with an armed 
 force, assisted by Lambert and Harrison, came into 
 the house and dissolved the parliament, pulling out 
 the members, foaming and raging, and calling them 
 undeserved and base names; and when the speaker 
 refused to come out of his chair, Harrison plucked 
 him out. These gentlemen having done this, took 
 to themselves the administration of all things, and 
 a few slaves of the house consulted with them, 
 and would have truckled under them, but not 
 many. Meanwhile they and their soldiers could 
 no way palliate their rebellion, but by making false 
 criminations of the parliament-men, as that they 
 meant to perpetuate themselves in honour and 
 office, that they had gotten vast estates, and per¬ 
 verted justice for gain, and were imposing upon 
 men for conscience, and a thousand such like 
 things, which time manifested to be false, and 
 truth retorted all upon themselves that they had 
 injuriously cast at the others. 
 
 At the time that the parliament was broken up 
 Col. Hutchinson was in the country, where, since 
 his going in his course out of the council of state, he 
 had for about a year’s time applied himself, when 
 the parliament could dispense with his absence, to 
 the administration of justice in the country, and 
 to the putting in execution of those wholesome 
 laws and statutes of the land provided for the 
 orderly regulation of the people. And it was 
 wonderful how, in a short space, he reformed 
 several abuses and customary neglects in that 
 part of the country where he lived, which being a 
 rich fruitful vale, drew abundance of vagrant 
 people to come and exercise the idle trade of 
 wandering and begging; but he took such courses 
 that there was very suddenly not a beggar left in 
 the country, and all the poor in every town so 
 maintained and provided for, as they never were 
 so liberally maintained and relieved before nor 
 since. He procured unnecessary alehouses to be 
 put down in all the towns, and if any one that he 
 
... ' '' ■ ■■■==- 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 107 
 
 heard of suffered any disorder or debauchery in 
 his house, he would not suffer him to brew any 
 more. He was a little severe against drunkenness, 
 for which the drunkards would sometimes rail at 
 him; but so were all the children of darkness 
 convinced by his light, that they were in awe more 
 of his virtue than his authority. In this time he 
 had made himself a convenient house *, whereof 
 
 * Pained and disgusted as the mind of the reader must 
 be with the tumults, anarchy, and crimes, it has witnessed, 
 hov welcome is the contemplation of this ease and leisure, 
 devoted to elegant studies, virtuous pursuits, useful occu¬ 
 pations, gentleman-like amusements, rational converse, 
 and conciliating hospitality! How difficult will it he to 
 him to believe that this otium cum dignitate is the honour¬ 
 able retreat of one of those gloomy fanatics whose tyranny, 
 Rapin says, had become intolerable to the nation ? 
 
 About thirty years ago it was the fate of the editor to 
 visit this mansion of his ancestors, in order to bring away 
 a few pictures and some books, all that remained to him 
 of those possessions, where they had lived with so much 
 merited love and honour. Although he had not then read 
 these Memoirs, yet having heard Col. Hutchinson spoken 
 of as an extraordinary person, and that he had built, 
 planted, and formed all that was to be seen there; the 
 country adjoining being a dreary waste, many thousand 
 acres together being entirely overrun with gorse or furze; 
 he viewed the whole with the utmost attention. He found 
 there a house, of which he has the drawing, large, hand¬ 
 some, lofty, and convenient, and though but little orna¬ 
 mented, possessing all the grace that size and symmetry 
 could give it. The entrance was by a flight of handsome 
 steps into a large hall, occupying entirely the centre of the 
 house, lighted at the entrance by two large windows, but 
 at the farther end by one much larger, in the expanse of 
 which was carried up a stair-case that seemed to be per¬ 
 fectly in the air. On one side of the hall was a long table, 
 on the other, a large fire-place; both suited to ancient 
 hospitality. On the right hand side of this hall were three 
 handsome rooms for the entertainment of guests. The 
 6ides of the stair-case and gallery were hung with pictures, 
 and both served as an orchestra either to the hall or to a 
 large room over part of it, which was a ball room. To the 
 left of the hall were the rooms commonly occupied by 
 the family. All parts were built so substantially, and so 
 well secured, that neither fire nor thieves could penetrate 
 from room to room, nor from one flight of stairs to another, 
 if ever so little resisted. 
 
 The house stood on a little eminence in the vale of Bel- 
 voir, at a small distance from the foot of those hills along 
 which the Roman foss-way from Leicester runs. The 
 western side of the house was covered by the offices, small 
 village, and church, interspersed with many trees. The 
 j south, which was the front of entrance, looked over a 
 large extent of grass grounds which were the demesne, 
 and were bounded by hills covered with wood which Col. 
 Hutchinson had planted. On the eastern side the enter¬ 
 taining-rooms opened on to a terrace, which encircled a 
 very large bowling-green or level lawn ; next to this had 
 been a flower-garden, and next to that a shrubbery, now 
 become a wood, through which vistas were cut to let in a 
 j view of Langar, the seat of Lord Howe, at two miles, and 
 | of Belvoir-castle, at seven miles’ distance, which, as the 
 afternoon sun set full upon it, made a glorious object: at 
 the further end of this small wood was a spot (of about ten 
 | acres) which appeared to have been a morass, and through 
 1 which ran a rivulet: this spot Col. Hutchinson had dug 
 ! into a great number of canals, and planted the ground 
 between them, leaving room for walks, so that the whole 
 j’ formed at once a wilderness or bower, reservoirs for fish, 
 
 ! and a decoy for wild-fowl. To the north, at some hundred 
 | yards’ distance, was a lake of water, which filling the* 
 j space between two quarters of wood-land, appeared, as 
 i viewed from the large window of the hall, like a moderate 
 j 1 river, and beyond this the eye rested on the wolds or high 
 : j wilds which accompany the foss-way towards Newark.— 
 j The whole had been deserted near forty years, but resisted 
 
 he was the best ornament, and an example of vir¬ 
 tue so prevailing, as metamorphosed many evil 
 people, while they were under his roof, into another 
 appearance of sobriety and holiness. 
 
 He was going up to attend the business of his 
 country above, when news met him upon the road, 
 near London, that Cromwell had broken the par¬ 
 liament. Notwithstanding he went on and found 
 divers of the members there, resolved to submit to 
 this providence of God, and to wait till he should 
 clear their integrity, and to disprove those people 
 who had taxed them of ambition, by sitting still, 
 when they had friends enough in the army, city, 
 and country, to have disputed the matter, and pro¬ 
 bably vanquished these usurpers. They thought 
 that if they should vex the land by war among 
 themselves, the late subdued enemies, royalists 
 and presbyterians, would have an opportunity to 
 prevail on their dissensions, to the ruin of both : 
 if these should govern well, and righteously, and 
 moderately, they should enjoy the benefit of their 
 good government, and would not envy them the 
 honourable toil; if they did otherwise, they should 
 be ready to assist and vindicate their oppressed 
 country, when the ungrateful people were made 
 sensible of their true champions and protectors. 
 Col. Hutchinson, in his own particular, was very 
 glad of this release from that employment, which 
 he managed with fidelity and uprightness, but not 
 only without delight, but with a great deal of 
 trouble and expense, in the contest for truth and 
 righteousness upon all occasions. 
 
 The only recreation he had during his residence 
 at London was in seeking out all the rare artists 
 he could hear of, and in considering their works 
 in paintings, sculptures, gravings, and all other 
 such curiosities, insomuch that he became a great 
 virtuoso and patron of ingenuity. Being loath 
 that the land should be disfurnished of all the 
 rarities that were in it, whereof many were set to 
 sale in the king’s and divers noblemen’s collections, 
 he laid out about two thousand pounds in the 
 choicest pieces of painting, most of which were 
 bought out of the king’s goods, which were given 
 to his servants to pay their wages : to them the 
 colonel gave ready money, and bought so good penny- 
 
 the ravages of time so well as to discover the masterly 
 hand by which it had been planned and executed. But 
 the most extraordinary and gratifying circumstance was 
 the veneration for the family which still subsisted, and 
 which, at the period when the last possessor had by his 
 will ordered this and all his estates in Notts to be sold, 
 and the produce given to strangers, induced the tenants to 
 offer a large advance of their rents, and a good share of the 
 money necessary for purchasing the estates, in order to 
 enable the remains of the family to come and reside again 
 among them.—It was too late! the steward had contracted 
 with the executors, and resold,the most desirable part, 
 where the timber of Col. Hutchinson’s planting was valued 
 at many thousand pounds! The Editor could only retire, 
 repeating Yirgil’s first Eclogue 
 Nos patriae Jines, et dulcia linquimus arva ; 
 
 Impius hcec tarn culta novalia miles habebit ? 
 
 Barbaras has segetes ? En quo discordia cives 
 Perduxit miseros! en queis consevimus agros. 
 
 Round the wide world in banishment we roam. 
 
 Forced from our pleasing fields and native home; 
 
 Did we for these barbarians plant and sow ? 
 
 On these, on these our happy fields bestow,? 
 
 Good heav’ns! what dire effects from civil discord flow ! 
 
 Dryden. 
 
108 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE O F COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 worths, that they were valued much more worth 
 than they cost.* These he brought down into the 
 country, intending a very neat cabinet for them ; 
 and these, with the surveying of his buildings, and 
 improving by enclosure the place he lived in, em¬ 
 ployed him at home, and, for a little time, hawks 
 abroad ; but when a very sober fellow, that never 
 was guilty of the usual vices of that generation of 
 men, rage and swearing, died, he gave over his 
 hawks, and pleased himself with music, and again 
 fell to the practice of his viol, on which he played 
 i excellently well, and entertaining tutors for the 
 I diversion and education of his children in all sorts 
 of music, he pleased himself in these innocent 
 recreations during Oliver’s mutable reign. As he 
 had great delight, so he had great judgment, in 
 music, and advanced his children’s practice more 
 than their tutors : he also was a great supervisor 
 of them learning, and indeed himself a tutor to 
 them all, besides all those tutors which he liberally 
 entertained in his house for them. He spared not 
 any cost for the education of both his sons and 
 daughters in languages, sciences, music, dancing, 
 and all other qualities befitting their father’s house. 
 He was himself their instructor in humility, so¬ 
 briety, and all godliness and virtue, which he rather 
 strove to make them exercise with love and delight 
 than by constraint. As other things were his 
 delight, this only he made his business, to attend 
 the education of his children, and the government 
 of his own house and town. This he performed 
 so well that never was any man more feared and 
 loved than he by all his domestics, tenants, and 
 hired workmen. He was loved with such a fear 
 and reverence as restrained all rude familiarity 
 and insolent presumptions in those who were under 
 him, and he was feared with so much love that 
 they all delighted to do his pleasure. 
 
 As he maintained his authority in all relations, 
 so he endeavoured to make their subjection 
 pleasant to them, and rather to convince them by 
 reason than compel them to obedience, and would 
 decline even to the lowest of his family to make 
 them enjoy their lives in sober cheerfulness, and 
 not find their duties burthensome. 
 
 As for the public business of the country, he 
 could not act in any office under the protector’s 
 power, and therefore confined himself to his own, 
 which the whole country about him were grieved 
 at, and would rather come to him for counsel as a 
 private neighbour than to any of the men in power 
 for greater help. 
 
 He now being reduced into an absolute private 
 condition, was very much courted and visited by 
 all of all parties, and, while the grand quarrel 
 slept, and both the victors and vanquished were 
 equal slaves under the new usurpers, there was a 
 very kind correspondence between him and all his 
 countrymen. As he was very hospitable, and his 
 conversation no less desirable and pleasant, than 
 instructive and advantageous, his house was much 
 
 lhat the conduct of Col. Hutchinson differed from 
 that of most other men in power at that time, and brought 
 a seasonable relief to the king’s servants and creditors 
 appears from two passages in the History of Independency, 
 p. 146 and 184. “ The king’s servants and creditors starve 
 for want of their own, while the members appropriate his 
 furniture to their own use, instead of selling it to pay 
 debts.” “ The king’s servants and creditors may gape 
 long enough before they sell the king’s goods to pay 
 debts.” 
 
 resorted to, and as kindly open to those who had 
 m public contests been his enemies, as to his con¬ 
 tinued friends ; for there never lived a man that 
 had less malice and revenge, nor more reconcile- 
 ableness and kindness and generosity in his nature, 
 than he. 
 
 In the interim Cromwell and his army grew 
 wanton with their power, and invented a thousand 
 tricks of government, which, when nobody opposed, 
 they themselves fell to dislike and vary every day 
 first he calls a parliament out of his own pocket! 
 lumself naming a sort of godly men for every 
 county, who meeting and not agreeing, a part of 
 them, in the name of the people, give up the sove¬ 
 reignty to him. Shortly after he makes up several 
 sorts of mock parliaments, but not finding one of 
 them absolutely for his turn, turned them off again. 
 He soon quitted himself of his triumvirs, and first 
 thrust out Harrison, then took away Lambert’s 
 commission, and would have been king but for fear 
 of quitting his generalship. He weeded, in a few 
 months time, above a hundred and fifty godly 
 officers out of the army, with whom many of the 
 l eligious soldiers went off, and in their room abun¬ 
 dance of the king’s dissolute soldiers were enter- 
 tamed, and the army was almost changed from 
 that godly religious army, whose valour God had 
 crowned . with triumph, into the dissolute army 
 they had beaten, bearing yet a better name. His 
 wife and children were setting up for principality, 
 which suited no better with any of them than 
 scarlet on the ape; only, to speak the truth of 
 hunself, he had much natural greatness, and well 
 became the place he had usurped. His daughter 
 T leetwood was humbled, and not exalted with 
 these things, but the rest were insolent fools. 
 Uaypole, who married his daughter, and his son 
 Henry, were two debauched ungodly cavaliers. 
 Richard was a peasant in his nature, yet gentle 
 and virtuous, but became not greatness. His 
 court was full of sin and vanity, and the more 
 abominable, because they had not yet quite cast 
 away the name of God, but profaned it by taking 
 it m vain upon them. True religion was now 
 almost lost, even among the religious party, and 
 hypocrisy became an epidemical disease, to the 
 sad grief of Col. Hutchinson, and all true-hearted 
 Christians and Englishmen. Almost all the 
 ministers everywhere fell in and worshipped this 
 beast, and courted and made addresses to him. 
 bo did the city of London, and many of the de¬ 
 generate lords of the land, with the poor-spirited 
 The cavaliers, in policy, who saw that 
 while Cromwell reduced all the exercise of tyran¬ 
 nical power under another name, there was a door 
 opened for the restoring of their party, fell much 
 m with Cromwell, and heightened all his disorders. 
 He at last exercised such an arbitrary power that 
 the whole land grew weary of him, while he set 
 up a company of silly mean fellows, called major- 
 generals, as governors in every country. These 
 ruled according to their wills, by no law but what 
 seemed good in their own eyes, imprisoning men, 
 obstructing the course of justice between man and 
 man, perverting right through partiality, acquit¬ 
 ting some that were guilty, and punishing some 
 that were innocent as guilty. Then he exercised 
 another project to raise money, by decimation of 
 the estates of all the king’s party, of which actions 
 tis said Lambert was the instigator. At last he 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. lo9 
 
 took upon him to make lords and knights, and 
 wanted not many fools, both of the army and 
 gentry, to accept of and strut in his mock titles. 
 Then the Earl of Warwick’s grandchild and the 
 Lord Falconbridge married his two daughters ; 
 such pitiful slaves were the nobles of those days. 
 At last Lambert, perceiving himself to have been 
 all this while deluded with hopes and promises of 
 succession, and seeing that Cromwell now intended 
 to confirm the government in his own family, fell 
 off from him, but behaved himself very pitifully 
 and meanly, was turned out of all his places, and 
 returned again to plot new vengeance at his house 
 at Wimbleton, where he fell to dress his flowers 
 in his garden, and work at the needle with his 
 wife and his maids, while he was watching an op¬ 
 portunity to serve again his ambition, which had 
 this difference from the protector’s ; the one was 
 gallant and great, the other had nothing but an 
 unworthy pride, most insolent in prosperity, and 
 as abject and base in adversity*. 
 
 The cavaliers, seeing their victors thus beyond 
 their hopes falling into their hands, had not patience 
 to stay till things ripened of themselves, but were 
 every day forming designs, and plotting for the 
 murder of Cromwell, and other insurrections, 
 which being contrived in drink, and managed by 
 false and cowardly fellows, were still revealed to 
 Cromwell, who had most excellent intelligence of 
 all things that passed, even in the king’s closet ; 
 and by these unsuccessful plots they were the only 
 obstructors of what they sought to advance, while, 
 to speak truth, Cromwell’s personal courage and 
 magnanimity upheld him against all enemies and 
 malcontents. His own army disliked him, and 
 once when sevenscore officers had combined to 
 cross him in something he was pursuing, and 
 engaged one to another, Lambert being the chief, 
 with solemn promises and invocations to God, the 
 protector hearing of it, overawed them all, and 
 told them, <( it was not they who upheld him, but 
 he them,” and rated them, and made them under¬ 
 stand what pitiful fellows they were; whereupon 
 they all, like rated dogs, clapped their tails between 
 their legs, and begged his pardon, and left Lambert 
 to fall alone, none daring to own him publicly, 
 though many in their hearts wished him the sove¬ 
 reignty. Some of the Lambertonians had at that 
 time a plot to eome with a petition to Cromwell, 
 and, while he was reading it, certain of them had 
 undertaken to cast him out of a window at White¬ 
 hall that looked upon the Thames, where others 
 should be ready to catch him up in a blanket, if he 
 escaped breaking his neck, and carry him away in 
 a boat prepared for the purpose, to kill or keep 
 him alive, as they saw occasion, and then set up 
 | Lambert. This was so carried on that it was near 
 the execution, before the protector knew anything 
 of it. Col. Hutchinson being at that time at 
 London, by chance came to know all the plot ; 
 certain of the conspirators coming into a place 
 where he was, and not being so cautious of their 
 
 * A. life of Lambert has been very obligingly put into 
 j 1 tlie hands of the editor, together with some other scarce 
 
 I tracts relating to those times, by Mr. White, jun. of Lin- 
 ■ coln ’ s Inn > wh0 had collected them in the north of England 
 ; where Lambert resided. He seems to have enjoyed a 
 better reputation among his countrymen: his horticulture 
 is therein much spoken of, and he is said to have painted 
 flowers, not to have embroidered them. 
 
 whispers to each other before him, but that he : 
 apprehended something, which making use of to j 
 others of the confederates, he at last found out i 
 the whole matter, without being committed to him | 
 as a matter of trust, but carelessly thrown down * 1 
 in pieces before him, which he gathered together, j 
 and became perfectly acquainted with the whole j 
 design ; and weighing it, and judging that Lambert 
 would be the worse tyrant of the two, he deter¬ 
 mined to prevent it, without being the author of 
 any man’s punishment. Hereupon having occasion 
 to see Fleetwood (for he had never seen the pro¬ 
 tector since his usurpation, but publicly declared 
 his testimony against it to all the tyrant’s minions), 
 he bade Fleetwood wish him to "have a care of 
 petitioners, by whom he apprehended danger to 
 his life. Fleetwood desired a more particular in¬ 
 formation, but the colonel was resolved he would 
 give him no more than to prevent that enterprise 
 which he disliked. For indeed those who were 
 deeply engaged, rather waited to see the cavaliers 
 in arms against him, and then thought it the best 
 time to arm for their own defence, and either 
 make a new conquest, or fall with swords in their 
 hands. Therefore they all connived at the cavaliers’ 
 attempts, and although they joined not with them, | 
 would not have been sorry to have seen them 
 upon equal terms with the protector, that then a 
 third party, which was ready both with arms and 
 men, when there was opportunity, might have 
 fallen in and capitulated with swords in their ! 
 hands, for the settlement of the rights and liberties i 
 of the good people : but God had otherwise deter¬ 
 mined of things ; and now men began so to flatter 
 with this tyrant, so to apostatise from all faith, 
 honesty, religion, and English liberty, and there 
 was such a devilish practice of trepanning grown ! 
 in fashion, that it was not safe to speak to any 
 man in those treacherous days. 
 
 After Col. Hutchinson had given Fleetwood 
 that caution, he was going into the country, when 
 the protector sent to search him out with all the 
 earnestness and haste that could possibly be, and 
 the colonel went to him ; who met him in one of 
 the galleries, and received him with open arms 
 and the kindest embraces that could be given, and 
 complained that the colonel should be so unkind 
 as never to give him a visit, professing how 
 welcome he should have been, the most welcome 
 person in the land, and with these smooth insinua¬ 
 tions led him along to a private place, giving him 
 thanks for the advertisement he had received from 
 Fleetwood, and using all his art to get out of the 
 colonel the knowledge of the persons engaged in 
 the conspiracy against him. But none of his 
 cunning, nor promises, nor flatteries, could prevail 
 with the colonel to inform him more than he 
 thought necessary to prevent the execution of the 
 design, which when the protector perceived, he 
 gave him most infinite thanks for what he had 
 told him, and acknowledged it opened to him some 
 mysteries that had perplexed him, and agreed so 
 with other intelligence he had, that he must owe 
 his preservation to him : “ But,” says he, “ dear 
 colonel, why will not you come in and act among 
 us ?” The colonel told him plainly, because he 
 liked not any of his ways since he broke the par¬ 
 liament, as being those which led to certain and 
 unavoidable destruction, not only of themselves, 
 but of the whole parliament party and cause, and I 
 
110 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 thereupon took occasion, with his usual freedom, to 
 tell him into what a sad hazard all things were 
 put, and how apparent a way was made for the 
 restitution of all former tyranny and bondage. 
 Cromwell seemed to receive this honest plainness 
 with the greatest affection that could be, and ac¬ 
 knowledged his precipitateness in some things, and 
 with tears complained how Lambert had put him 
 upon all those violent actions, for which he now 
 accused him and sought his ruin. He expressed 
 an earnest desire to restore the people’s liberties, 
 and to take and pursue more safe and sober 
 counsels, and wound up all with a very fair court¬ 
 ship of the colonel to engage with him, offering 
 him any thing he would account worthy of him. 
 The colonel told him, he could not be forward to 
 make his own advantage, by serving to the en¬ 
 slaving of his country. The other told him, he 
 intended nothing more than the restoring and con¬ 
 firming the liberties of the good people, in order 
 to which he would employ such men of honour 
 and interest as the people should rejoice, and he 
 should not refuse to be one of them. And after, 
 with all his arts, he had endeavoured to excuse 
 his public actions, and to draw in the colonel; who 
 again had taken the opportunity to tell him freely 
 his own and all good men’s discontents and dis¬ 
 satisfactions ; he dismissed the colonel with such 
 expressions as were publicly taken notice of by all 
 his little courtiers then about him, when he went 
 to the end of the gallery with the colonel, and 
 there, embracing him, said aloud to him, “Well, 
 colonel, satisfied or dissatisfied, you shall be one of- 
 us, for we can no longer exempt a person so able 
 and faithful from the public service, and you 
 shall be satisfied in all honest things.” The colonel 
 left him with that respect that became the place 
 he was in ; when immediately the same courtiers 
 who had some of them passed him by without know¬ 
 ing him when he came in, although they had been 
 once of -his familiar acquaintance, and the rest who 
 had looked upon him with such disdainful neglect 
 as those little people use to those who are not 
 of their faction, now flocked about him, striving 
 who should express most respect, and, by an ex¬ 
 traordinary officiousness, redeem their late slight- 
 ings. Some of them desired he would command 
 their service in any business he had with their 
 lord, and a thousand such frivolous compliments, 
 which the colonel smiled at, and quitting himself 
 of them as soon as he could, made haste to return 
 into the country. There he had not long been 
 but that he was informed, notwithstanding all 
 these fair shows, the protector, finding him too con¬ 
 stant to be wrought upon to serve his tyranny, had 
 resolved to secure his person, lest he should head 
 the people, who now grew very weary of his 
 bondage. But though it was certainly confirmed 
 to the colonel how much he was afraid of his 
 honesty and freedom, and that he was resolved 
 not to let him longer be at liberty, yet, before his 
 guards apprehended the colonel, death imprisoned 
 himself, and confined all his vast ambition and all 
 his cruel designs into the narrow compass of a 
 grave. His army and court substituted his eldest 
 son, Richard, in his room, who was a meek, tem¬ 
 perate, and quiet man, but had not a spirit fit to 
 succeed his father, or to manage such a perplexed 
 government. 
 
 The people, being vexed with the pocket-parlia- 
 
 ments, and the major-generals of the counties, 
 like bashaws, were now all muttering to have a 
 free parliament, after the old manner of elections, 
 without engaging those that were chosen to any 
 terms. Those at Richard’s court, that knew his 
 father’s counsels to prevent Col. Hutchinson from 
 being chosen in his own country, counselled Richard 
 to prick him for sheriff of the county of Notting¬ 
 ham, which, as soon as he understood, he wrote 
 him a letter, declaring his resentment in such a 
 civil manner as became the person. Richard 
 returned a very obliging answer, denying any 
 intention in himself to show the least disfavour 
 to him for former dissents, but rather a desire to 
 engage his kindness. And soon after, when the 
 colonel went himself to London, and went to the 
 young protector, he told him, that since God had 
 called him to the government, it was his desire to 
 make men of uprightness and interest his associates, 
 to rule by their counsels and assistance, and not 
 to enslave the nation to an army; and that if by 
 them, he had been put upon anything prejudicial 
 or disobliging to the colonel, in pricking him for 
 sheriff, he should endeavour to take it off, or to 
 serve him any other way, as soon as he had dis¬ 
 entangled himself from the officers of the army, 
 who at present constrained him in many things, 
 and, therefore, if the colonel'would please, without 
 unkindness, to exercise this office, he should receive 
 it as an obligation, and seek one more acceptable 
 to him after. The colonel, seeing him herein good- 
 natured enough, was persuaded by a very wise 
 friend of his to take it upon him, and returned 
 well enough satisfied with the courteous usage of 
 the protector. This gentleman, who had thus 
 counselled the colonel, was as considerable and as 
 wise a person as any was in England, who did not 
 openly appear among Richard’s adherents or 
 counsellors,* but privately advised him, and had 
 a very honourable design of bringing the nation 
 into freedom under this young man • who was so 
 flexible to good counsels, that there was nothing 
 desirable in a prince which might not have been 
 hoped in him, but a great spirit and a just title : 
 the first of which sometimes doth more hurt than 
 good in a sovereign; the latter would have been 
 supplied by the people’s deserved approbation. 
 This person was very free to impart to the colonel 
 all the design of settling the state under this single 
 person, and the hopes of felicity in such an estab¬ 
 lishment. The colonel debating this with him, 
 told him, that if ever it were once fixed in a single 
 person, and the army taken off, which could not 
 consist with the liberty of the people, it could not 
 be prevented from returning to the late ejected 
 family; and that on whatever terms they returned, 
 it was folly to hope the people’s cause, which, with 
 such blood and expense, had been asserted, should 
 not utterly be overthrown. To this the gentleman 
 gave many strong reasons, why that family could 
 not be restored, without the ruin of the people’s 
 liberty, and of all their champions, and thought 
 that these carried so much force with them, that 
 it would never be attempted, even by any royalist 
 that retained any love to his country, and that the 
 establishing this single person would satisfy that 
 faction, and compose all the differences, bringing 
 in all, of all parties, that were men of interest and 
 love to their country. Although the business was 
 
 1 very speciously laid, and the man such a one whose 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. Ill 
 
 authority was sufficient to sway in any state, the 
 colonel w r as not much opinionated of the things he 
 propounded, but willing to wait the event; being 
 , in himself more persuaded that the people’s free¬ 
 dom would be best maintained in a free republic, 
 delivered from the shackles of their encroaching 
 slaves the army.* This was now not muttered, 
 but openly asserted by all but the army: although 
 of those who contended for it, there were two 
 , sorts; some that really thought it the most con¬ 
 ducive to the people’s good and freedom; others 
 that, by this pretence, hoped to pull down the 
 army and the protectorian faction, and then restore 
 the old family. It is believed that Richard him- 
 : self was compounded with, to have resigned the 
 place that was too great for him; certain it is, 
 that his poor spirit was likely enough to do any 
 such thing. The army perceiving they had set up 
 a wretch who durst not reign, that there was a con¬ 
 vention met, by their own assent, who were ready, 
 , with a seeming face of authority of parliament, 
 to restore the Stewarts, were greatly distressed; 
 finding also, that the whole nation was bent against 
 them, and would not bear their yoke; having, 
 therefore, no refuge to save them from being torn 
 , in pieces by the people, and to deliver them from 
 their own puppets, who had sold and betrayed them, 
 they found out some of the members of that glorious 
 parliament, which they had violently driven from 
 their seats with a thousand slanderous crimina- 
 . tions and untruths. To these they counterfeited 
 repentance, and that God had opened their eyes to 
 4 see into what a manifest hazard of ruin they had 
 put the interest and people of God in these nations, 
 ; so that it was almost irrecoverable, but if any 
 hope were left, it was that God would sign it with 
 : his wonted favour, in those hands, out of which 
 , they had injuriously taken it. Hereupon they 
 opened the house doors for them ; and the speaker, 
 with some few members, as many as made a house, 
 were too hasty to return into their seats, upon 
 , capitulation with those traitors, who had brought 
 the commonwealth into such a sad confusion. But 
 after they were met, they immediately sent sum- 
 7 mouses to all the members throughout all England, 
 among whom the colonel was called up, and much 
 i perplexed, for now he thought his conscience, life, 
 ■j and fortunes again engaged with men of mixed 
 and different interests and principles; yet in 
 
 1 regard of the trust formerly reposed in him, he 
 returned into his place, infinitely dissatisfied that 
 any condescension had been made to the army’s 
 
 1 proposals, whose necessity, rather than honesty, 
 had moved them to counterfeit repentance and 
 ingenuity. This they did by a public declaration, 
 how they had been seduced, and done wickedly in 
 j interrupting the parliament, and that God had 
 never since that time owned them and their coun¬ 
 sels as before, and that they desired to humble 
 [l themselves before God and man for the same, and 
 to return to their duty in defending the parliament 
 in the discharge of their remaining trust. Accord¬ 
 ing to this declaration, the army kept a day of 
 
 ? solemn humiliation before the Lord; yet all this, 
 
 as the event after manifested, in hypocrisy. 
 
 j« * The mention of this political discussion without the 
 
 name of the principal speaker in it, naturally awakens 
 curiosity and excites to conjecture. It is probable that 
 the secret referred to at p. 121 , and which endeavours were 
 in vain used to draw from Mrs. Hutchinson, was the same 
 ! thing as is here hinted at. See note, p. 121. 
 
 Now the parliament were sat, and no sooner 
 assembled but invaded by several enemies. The 
 presbyterians had long since espoused the royal 
 interest, and forsaken God and the people’s cause, 
 when they could not obtain the reins of govern¬ 
 ment in their own hands, and exercise dominion 
 over all their brethren. It was treason, by the 
 law of those men in power, to talk of restoring the 
 king; therefore, the presbyterians must face the 
 design, and accordingly all the members ejected 
 in 1648, now came to claim their seats in the 
 house, whom Col. Pride, that then guarded the 
 parliament, turned back, and thereupon there was 
 some heat in the lobby between them and the 
 other members. Particularly Sir George Booth 
 uttered some threats, and immediately they went 
 into their several counties, and had laid a design 
 all over England, wherein all the royalists were 
 engaged, and many of the old parliament officers ; 
 and this was so dexterously, secretly, and unani¬ 
 mously carried on, that before the parliament had 
 the least intimation of it, the flame was everywhere 
 kindled, and small parties attempting insurrections 
 in all places; but their main strength was with 
 Sir George Booth in Cheshire, who there appeared 
 the chief head of the rebellion. The city, at that 
 time, were very wavering and false to the parlia¬ 
 ment, yet the usual presence of God, that was 
 with them in former times, never appeared so 
 eminent as now, miraculously bringing to light all 
 the plots against them, and scattering their enemies 
 before the wind, making them fly when there was 
 none to pursue them: although even in the par¬ 
 liament house there wanted not many close traitors 
 and abettors of this conspiracy. It was presently 
 voted to send an army down into Cheshire : but 
 then it fell into debate who should lead. Fleet- 
 w T ood, upon the deposing his brother Richard, 
 (wherein he was most unworthily assistant,) was 
 made general, but not thought a person of courage 
 enough for this enterprise, whereupon many of 
 Lambert’s friends propounded him to the house, and 
 undertook for his integrity and hearty repentance 
 for having been formerly assistant to the protector. 
 Col. Hutchinson was utterly against receiving him 
 again into employment; but it was the general vote 
 of the house, and accordingly he was brought in to 
 receive his commission from the speaker; who in¬ 
 tending to accept an humble submission he then 
 falsely made, with high professions of fidelity, and 
 to return him an encouragement, in declaring the 
 confidence the house had in him, through mistake, 
 made such a speech to him as after proved a true 
 prophecy of his perfidiousness. Many of the house 
 took notice of it then only to laugh, but afterwards 
 thought some hidden impulse the man was not 
 sensible of led his tongue into those mistakes. 
 However Lambert went forth, and through the 
 cowardice of the enemy obtained a very cheap 
 victory and returned. In Nottinghamshii’e, Col. 
 White rose only to show his apostacy and run 
 away. The Lord Biron also lost himself and his 
 companions in the forest, being chased by a piece 
 of the county troop. And Mr. Robert Pierrepont, 
 the son of the late colonel, went out to make up 
 the rout and ran away, and cast away some good 
 arms into the bushes, to make his flight more 
 easy. 
 
 . During the late protector’s times, Col. Hutchin¬ 
 son, who thought them greater usurpers on the | 
 
112 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 people’s liberties than the former king, believed 
 himself wholly disengaged from all ties, but those 
 which God and nature, or rather God by nature, 
 obliges every man of honour and honesty in to 
 his country, which is to defend or relieve it from 
 invading tyrants, as far as he may by a lawful 
 call and means, and to suffer patiently that yoke 
 which God submits him to, till the Lord shall take 
 it off; and upon these principles, he seeing that 
 authority, to which he was in duty bound, so 
 seemingly taken quite away, thought he was free 
 to fall in or oppose all things, as prudence should 
 guide him, upon general rules of conscience. These 
 would not permit him any way to assist any tyrant 
 or invader of the people’s rights, nor to rise up 
 against them without a manifest call from God ; 
 therefore he staid at home, and busied himself in 
 his own domestic employments, and having a very 
 liberal heart, had a house open to all worthy 
 persons of all parties. Among these the Lord 
 Biron, who thought that no gentleman ought to 
 be unprovided of arms in such an uncertain 
 time, had provided himself a trunk of pistols, 
 which were brought down from London: but 
 some suspicion of it being entered in the protec¬ 
 tor’s officers, he durst not fetch the trunk from the 
 carrier’s himself, but entreated the colonel to send 
 for them to his house, and secure them there. 
 This the colonel did, but afterward when my 
 Lord Biron had entered into conspiracy with the 
 enemies of the parliament, he knew that Col. 
 Hutchinson was not to be attempted against them, 
 and was in great care how to get his arms out of 
 the colonel’s house. The colonel being of a very 
 compassionate and charitable nature, had enter¬ 
 tained into his service some poor people, who on 
 the enemy’s side had been ruined, and were reduced 
 from good estates to seek that refuge ; and who 
 counterfeited, so long as their party was down, 
 such sobriety, love, and gratitude, and sense of 
 their sins and miscarriages on the other side, that 
 he hoped they had been converts, but could not 
 believe they would have proved such detestable, 
 unthankful traitors, as afterwards they did. Among 
 these, Lord Biron corrupted a gentleman who 
 I waited then on the colonel, as the man after 
 alleged ; my lord said he offered himself: how¬ 
 ever it were, the plot was laid that fifty men, near 
 the colonel’s house, should be raised for him, and 
 i he with them should first come to the colonel’s 
 | house, and take away my lord’s arms, with all the 
 I rest of the colonel’s that they could find. To raise 
 | him these men, certain neighbours, who used to 
 | come to the house, were very busy, and especially 
 | two parsons, he of Plumtre, and lie of Bingham ; 
 this had an active, proud, pragmatical curate, who 
 used to come to this traitor in the colonel’s house, 
 and help to manage the treason, and the chaplain, 
 the waiting woman, and two servants more, were 
 dra wn into the confederacy. The colonel was then at 
 the parliament house, and only his wife and chidren 
 at home, when, the night before the insurrection, 
 Ivie (that was the gentleman’s name) came to a 
 singing boy who kept the colonel’s clothes, and 
 commanded him to deliver him the colonel’s own 
 arms and buff coat. 
 
 The boy was fearful and did not readily obey 
 him, whereupon he threatened immediately to 
 pistol him, if he made the least resistance, oiv 
 discovery of the business; so the boy fetched 
 
 him the arms, and he put them on, and took 
 one of the best horses and went out at mid¬ 
 night, telling the boy he was a fool to fear, for 
 the next night, before that time, there would 
 come fifty men to fetch away all the arms in the 
 house. 
 
 As soon as the boy saw him quite gone, his 
 mistress being then in bed, he went to the chap¬ 
 lain and acquainted him ; but the chaplain cursed 
 him for breaking his sleep: then he went to the 
 waiting gentlewoman, but she said she thought 
 it would be unfit to disturb her mistress: so 
 the boy rested till next day, when Ivie, having 
 failed of his men, was come back again. Then | 
 the boy, finding an opportunity after dinner, told 
 his mistress, that though he had been bred a 
 cavalier, he abhorred to betray or be unfaithful 
 to those he served ; and that he had reason to 
 suspect there was some vile conspiracy in hand, 
 wherein Ivie was engaged against them, and told 
 his grounds. When Mrs. Hutchinson had heard 
 that, she bade him keep it private, and called 
 immediately a servant that had been a cornet 
 of the parliament’s party, and bade him go to 
 the county troop’s captain, and desire him to send 
 her a guard for her husband’s house, for she had 
 intelligence that the cavaliers intended some 
 attempt against it. Mrs. Hutchinson, ashamed 
 to complain of her own family, thought of this 
 way of security, till she could discharge herself of 
 the traitor, not knowing at that time how many 
 more were about her. Then calling her gentle¬ 
 woman, whom she thought she might trust, upon 
 her solemn protestations of fidelity, she took her to 
 assist her in hiding her plate and jewels, and what 
 she had of value, and scrupled not to let her see 
 the secret places in her house, while the false and 
 base dissembler went smiling up and down at her 
 mistress’ simplicity. Mean time the man that 
 was sent for soldiers, came back, bringing news 
 that the cavaliers had risen and were beaten, and 
 the county troop was in pursuit of them. Then 
 also the coachman, who, finding himself not well, 
 had borrowed a horse to go to Nottingham to be 
 let blood, came home, bringing with him a cravat 
 and other spoils of the enemy, which he had gotten. 
 For when he came to the town, hearing the cava¬ 
 liers were up, he got a case of pistols, and thought 
 more of shedding than losing blood, and, meeting 
 the cavaliers in the rout, ’tis said he killed one of 
 them: although this rogue had engaged to Ivie to 
 have gone on the other side with him. Mrs. Hut¬ 
 chinson not being willing, for a’l this, to take such 
 notice of Ivie’s treason as to cast him into prison, 
 took him immediately to London with her, and 
 said nothing till he came there. Then she told 
 him how base and treacherous he had been ; but 
 to save her own shame for having entertained so 
 false a person, and for her mother’s sake whom 
 he had formerly served, she was willing to dismiss 
 him privately, without acquainting the colonel, 
 who could not know but he must punish him. So 
 she gave him something and turned him away, 
 and told her husband she came only to acquaint 
 him with the insurrection, and her own fears of I 
 staying in the country without him. He, being 9 
 very indulgent, went immediately back with her, I 
 having informed the parliament, and received I 
 their order for going down to look after the secur- I 
 ing of the country. His wife, as soon as she came I 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 113 
 
 down having learned that the chaplain had been 
 Ivie’s confederate, told him privately of it, and 
 desired him to find a pretence to take his leave of 
 the colonel, that she might not be necessitated to 
 complain, and procure him the punishment his 
 treason deserved. He went away thus, but so 
 far from being wrought upon, that he hated her 
 to the death for her kindness, 
 f The colonel having set things in order in the 
 country, had an intent to have carried his family 
 that winter with him to London ; when .just that 
 , week he was going, news was brought that Lam- 
 v bei't had once more turned out the parliament, 
 
 ' and the colonel rejoiced in his good fortune that 
 he was not present. 
 
 Lambert was exceedingly puffed up with his 
 cheap victory, and cajoled his soldiers, and, before 
 | he returned to London, set on foot among them 
 their old insolent way of prescribing to the parlia- 
 j! ment by way of petition. 
 
 f The parliament, after the submission of the 
 army, had voted that there should no more be a 
 j general over them, but to keep that power in their 
 c own hands, that all the officers should take their 
 j commissions immediately from the speaker. The 
 conspiracy of the army, to get a leader in their 
 j rebellion, was laid, that they should petition for 
 t generals and such like things as might facilitate 
 , their intents. Among others that were taken in 
 j arms against the parliament, Lord Castleton was 
 one of the chief heads of the insurrection. Him 
 Lambert brought along with him in his coach, not 
 now as a prisoner, but unguarded, as one that was 
 to be honoured. The parliament hearing of this, 
 sent and fetched him out of his company and com¬ 
 mitted him to prison, and then the army’s saucy 
 petition was delivered, and, upon the insolent 
 r j carriage of nine colonels, they were by vote dis¬ 
 banded. Lambert being one of them, came in a, 
 hostile manner and plucked the members out of 
 the house ; Fleetwood, whom they trusted to 
 j guard them, having confederated with Lambert 
 and betrayed them. After that, setting up their 
 army court at Wallingford-house, they began their 
 j arbitrary reign, to the joy of all the vanquished 
 r enemies of the parliament, and to the amazement 
 and terror of all men that had any honest interest: 
 and now were they all devising governments ; and 
 ; some honourable members, I know not through 
 what fatality of the times, fell in with them.* 
 When Col. Hutchinson came into the country 
 some time before Lambert’s revolt, Mr. Robert 
 Pierrepont, the son of the late Col. Francis Pierre- 
 
 * This was that committee of safety, or council of Stra¬ 
 tocracy, among the principal members of which were Sir 
 Henry Vane, Ludlow, and Whitelock, as mentioned by 
 Whitelock, p. 685. He there says that he took his share 
 in it reluctantly, and that all three were censured for it by 
 the parliament at their return. Ludlow was accused of 
 treason; Vane made an ingenious excuse, but was banished 
 to one of his country-seats. Col. Hutchinson evidently 
 it divided from Sir H. Vane on this occasion, and, as Ludlow 
 j, says, urged on the censure against him, which he considers 
 l as inconsistent with Col. Hutchinson’s judgment passed 
 j on the king, and as a proof of his treachery and underhand 
 i agreement with Monk. But no conclusion can be more 
 I unwarranted than this ; it was Col. Hutchinson’s anxiety 
 j- to keep the king out, or at least to prevent his coming in 
 with a high hand and without limitation, that caused him 
 so strenuously to oppose these rash steps; which made all 
 wish for the king’s return, to deliver themfrom greater evils. 
 
 pont, sent friends to entreat the colonel to receive 
 him into his protection. Upon the entreaty of his 
 uncles he took him into his own house, and enter¬ 
 tained him civilly there, whilst he wrote to the 
 speaker, urging his youth, his surrender of him¬ 
 self, and all he could in favour of him, desiring to 
 know how they would please to dispose of him. 
 Before the letters were answered Lambert had 
 broken the parliament, and the colonel told him he 
 was free again to do what he pleased : but the 
 young gentleman begged of the colonel, that he 
 might continue under his sanctuary till these 
 things came to some issue. This the colonel very 
 freely admitted, and entertained him till the 
 second return of the parliament, not without 
 much trouble to his house, of him and his ser¬ 
 vants, so contrary to the sobriety and holiness 
 the colonel delighted in, yet for his father’s and his 
 uncle’s sakes he endured it about six months. 
 
 Some of Lambert’s officers, while he marched 
 near Nottinghamshire, having formerly served 
 under the colonel’s command, came to his house 
 at Owthorpe, and told him of the petition that 
 was set on foot in Lambert’s brigade, and con¬ 
 sulted whether they should sign it or no. The 
 colonel advised them by no means to do it; yet, 
 notwithstanding, they did, which made the colonel 
 exceeding angry with them, thinking they rather 
 came to see how he stood affected, than really to 
 ask his counsel. When Lambert had broken the 
 house, the colonel made a short voyage to London 
 to inform himself how things were, and found 
 some of the members exceedingly sensible of the 
 sad estate the kingdom was reduced unto by the 
 rash ambition of these men, and resolving that 
 there was no way but for every man that abhorred 
 it to improve their interest in their countries, and 
 to suppress these usurpers and rebels. Hereupon 
 the colonel took order to have some arms bought 
 and sent him, and had prepared a thousand honest 
 men, whenever he should call for their assistance; 
 intending to improve his posse comitatus when 
 occasion should be offered. To provoke him more 
 particularly to this, several accidents fell out. 
 Among the rest, six of Lambert’s troopers came 
 to gather money, laid upon the country by an 
 assessment of parliament, whom the colonel tell¬ 
 ing that in regard it was levied by that authority 
 he had paid it, but otherwise would not; two of 
 them, who only were in the room with the colonel, 
 the rest being on horseback in the court, gave 
 him such insolent terms, with such insufferable 
 reproaches of the parliament, that the colonel 
 drew a sword which was in the room to have 
 chastised them. While a minister that was by 
 held the colonel’s arm, his wife, not willing to 
 have them killed in her presence, opened the door 
 and let them out, who presently ran and fetched 
 in their companions in the yard with cocked 
 pistols. Upon the bustle, while the colonel, having 
 disengaged himself from those that held him, was 
 run after them with the sword drawn, his brother 
 came out of another room, upon whom, the soldiers 
 pressing against a door that went into the great 
 hall, the door flew open, and about fifty or sixty 
 men appeared in the hall t, who were there upon 
 
 t The description of the house contained in a formei 
 note will give a just idea of the position of all the parties, 
 and of the striking scene here described. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 114 
 
 another business. For Owthorpe, Kinolton, and 
 Hicklin had a contest about a cripple that was 
 sent from one to the other, but at last, out of some 
 respect they had for the colonel, the chief men of' 
 the several towns were come to him to make 
 some accommodation till the law should be again 
 in force. When the colonel heard the soldiers 
 were come, he left them shut up in his great hall, 
 who by accident thus appearing, put the soldiers 
 into a dreadful fright. When the colonel saw 
 how pale they looked, he encouraged them to 
 take heart, and calmly admonished them of their 
 insolence, and they being changed, and very 
 humble through their fear, he called for wine for 
 them, and sent them away. To the most insolent 
 of them he said, " These carriages would bring 
 back the Stuarts.” The man, laying his hand 
 upon his sword, said, "Never while he wore 
 that.” Among other things they said to the 
 colonel, when he demanded by what authority 
 they came, they showed their swords, and said, 
 "That was their authority.” After they were 
 dismissed, the colonel, not willing to appear 
 because he was sheriff of the county, and had 
 many of their papers sent him to publish, con¬ 
 cealed himself in his house, and caused his wife 
 to write a letter to Fleetwood and complain of the 
 affronts had been offered him, and to tell him 
 that he was thereupon retired, till he could dwell 
 safely at home*. To this Fleetwood returned a 
 civil answer, and withal sent a protection, to for¬ 
 bid all soldiers from coming to his house, and a 
 command to Swallow, who was the colonel of 
 these men, to examine and punish them. Mrs. 
 Hutchinson had sent before to Swallow, then 
 quartered at Leicester, the next day after it was 
 done, to inform him, who sent a letter utterly 
 disowning their actions, and promising to punish 
 them. This Mrs. Hutchinson sent, to show the 
 soldiers that lay then abusing the country at 
 Colson; but when they saw their officer’s letter 
 they laughed at him, and tore it in pieces. Some 
 days after, he, in a civil manner, sent a captain 
 with them and other soldiers to Owthorpe, to 
 inquire of their misdemeanors before their faces ; 
 which being confirmed to him, and he beginning 
 to rebuke them, they set him at light, even before 
 Mrs. Hutchinson’s face, and made the poor man 
 retire sneaped to his colonel, while these six 
 rogues, in one week’s space, besides the assess¬ 
 ments assigned them to gather up within the 
 compass of five miles, took away violently from 
 the country, for their own expense, above five- 
 and-twenty pounds. Notwithstanding all this pre¬ 
 tended civility, Fleetwood and his counsellors were 
 afraid of the colonel, and the protection was but 
 sent to draw him thither, that they might by that 
 means get him into their custody. But he having 
 intimation of it, withdrew, while men and arms 
 
 * Probably this circumstance of Col. Hutchinson con¬ 
 cealing himself in his own home, came at that time to be 
 known at Nottingham, and gave rise to a tradition which 
 is to be found in Throsby’s edition of Thoroton, that he 
 concealed himself in this manner after the Restoration, 
 but was taken in his return from church; both of which 
 were untrue, as probably were some other tales, resembling 
 the legends of romance, which the editor heard of him 
 at Owthorpe. But that there was an apartment so adapted 
 for concealment, security, and convenience, as that he 
 might have made a long residence in it without being dis¬ 
 covered, the Editor had ocular demonstration. 
 
 were preparing, that he might appear publicly in 
 the defence of the country, when he was strong 
 enough to drive out the soldiers that were left in 
 these parts. Three hundred of them were one 
 night drawn out of Nottingham to come to 
 Owthorpe for him, but some of the party gave 
 him notice, who was then at home, and imme¬ 
 diately went out of the house. Neither wanted 
 they their spies, who gave them notice that he 
 was gone again, so that they turned off upon the 
 wolds and went to Hickling, and the next day 
 Major Grove, their commander, sent to Mrs. 
 Hutchinson to desire permission for himself only 
 to come down, which she gave, and so with only 
 five or six of his party he came. With him Mrs. 
 Hutchinson so easily dealt that, after she had 
 represented the state of things to him, he began 
 to apologise that he had only taken this command 
 upon him to preserve the country, and should be 
 ready to submit to any lawful authority; and he 
 and his men were not come for any other intent 
 but to prevent disturbance of the peace, and 
 gatherings together of men, who, they were in¬ 
 formed, intended to rise in these parts. Mrs. 
 Hutchinson smiling, told him it was necessary for 
 him to keep a good guard, for all the whole 
 country would shortly be weary of their yoke, 
 and, no question, find some authority to shelter 
 them. At last he came to that, as to desire her 
 to let the colonel know he intended him no mis¬ 
 chief, but he and all his men should be at her 
 command to defend her from the insolencies of 
 any others. She heard him without faith, for she 
 knew the good will they pretended to her husband 
 proceeded only from their fear. It is true that 
 at that time the colonel had met with Col. Hacker, 
 and several other gentlemen of Northampton and 
 Warwickshire, and at the same time Major Beque 
 was to have reduced Coventry, and another colonel 
 Warwick-castle. Two regiments of horse should 
 have marched to a place within seven miles of 
 Col. Hutchinson’s house, where his men should 
 have rendezvoused, and the town of Nottingham 
 at the same time have seized all the soldiers 
 there, and they of Leicester the like. These 
 'people had, through the spies that were about 
 the colonel, gotten some little inkling of his ren¬ 
 dezvous, but not right, neither could they have 
 prevented it, had there been need. But just 
 before it should have been put in execution the 
 parliament were restored to their seats, Lambert 
 was deserted by his men and fled, and Monk was 
 marching on southwards, pretending to restore 
 and confirm the parliament; insomuch that Col. 
 Hutchinson, instead of raising his country, was 
 called up to his seat in parliament. Here there 
 were so many favourers of Lambert, Fleetwood, 
 and their partakers, that the colonel, who used to 
 be very silent, could not now forbear high opposi¬ 
 tion of them; in whose favour things were carried 
 with such a stream, that the colonel then began 
 to lose all hopes of settling this poor land on any 
 righteous foundation. 
 
 It was the 26th of December, 1659, that the 
 parliament met again. The manner of it, and the 
 contest and treaty in the north between Monk 
 and Lambert, are too well known to be repeated; 
 the dissimulations and false protestations that 
 Monk made are too public: yet did the colonel 
 and others suspect him, but knew not how to 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON._ llo 
 
 hinder him; for this insolent usurpation of 
 Lambert’s had so turned the hearts of all men, 
 that the whole nation began to set their eyes 
 upon the king beyond the sea, and think a bad 
 settlement under him better than none at all, but 
 still to be under the arbitrary power of such 
 proud rebels as Lambert. The whole house was 
 divided into miserable factions, among whom 
 some would then violently have set up an oath 
 of renunciation of the king and his family. The 
 colonel, thinking it a ridiculous thing to swear out 
 a man, when they had no power to defend them¬ 
 selves against him, vehemently opposed that oath, 
 and carried it against Sir Arthur Haslerig and 
 others, who as violently pressed it; urging very 
 truly, that those oaths that had been formerly 
 imposed had but multiplied the sins of the nation 
 by perjuries; instancing how Sir Arthur and 
 others, in Oliver’s time, coming into the house, 
 swore at their entrance they would attempt 
 nothing in the change of that government, which, 
 as soon as ever they were entered, they laboured 
 to throw down. Many other arguments he used; 
 whereupon many honest men, who thought till 
 then he had followed a faction in all things, and 
 not his own judgment, began to meet often with 
 him, and to consult what to do in these diffi¬ 
 culties, out of which their prudence and^ honesty 
 had found a way to extricate themselves; but that 
 the period of our prosperity was come, hastened 
 on partly by the mad rash violence of some that, 
 without strength, opposed the tide of the discon¬ 
 tented tumultuous people, partly by the detestable 
 treachery of those who had sold themselves to 
 do mischief; but chiefly by the general stream 
 of the people, who were as eager for their own 
 destruction as the Israelites of old for their 
 quails. 
 
 One observation of the colonel I cannot omit, 
 that the secluded members whom Monk brought 
 in were, many of them, so brought over to a com¬ 
 monwealth that, if Sir Arthur Haslerig and his party 
 had not forsaken their places because they would 
 not sit with them, they had made the stronger 
 party in the house, which by reason of their going 
 off were after in all things out-voted. 
 
 Sir Anthony Ashley Cooper at that time insinu¬ 
 ated himself into a particular friendship with the 
 colonel, and made him all the honourable pre¬ 
 tences that can be imagined ; called him his dear 
 friend , and caressed him with such embraces as 
 none but a traitor as vile as himself could have 
 suspected ; yet was he the most intimate of Monk’s 
 confidants : whereupon some few days before the 
 rising of that house, when it began to be too appa¬ 
 rent which way Monk inclined, the colonel, upon 
 the confidence of his friendship, entreated him to 
 tell him what were Monk’s intentions, that he 
 and others might consider their safety, who were 
 likely to be given up as a public sacrifice. Cooper 
 denied to the death any intention besides a com¬ 
 monwealth ; “ but,” said he, with the greatest 
 semblance of reality that can be put on, “ if the 
 violence of the people should bring the king upon 
 us, let me be damned, body and soul, if ever I see 
 a hair of any man’s head touched, or a penny of 
 any man’s estate, upon this quarrel.” This he 
 backed with so many and so deep protestations of 
 that kind, as made the colonel, after his treachery 
 was apparent, detest him of all mankind, and think 
 
 himself obliged, if ever he had opportunity, to pro¬ 
 cure exemplary justice on him, who was so vile a 
 wretch as himself to sit and sentence some of 
 those that died. And although this man joined 
 with those who laboured the colonel’s particular 
 deliverance, yet the colonel, to his dying day, 
 abhorred the mention of his name, and held him 
 for a more execrable traitor than Monk himself. 
 At this time the colonel, as before, was by many 
 of his friends attempted every way to fall in with 
 the king’s interest, and often offered both pardon 
 and preferment, if he could be wrought off from 
 his party, whose danger was now laid before him : 
 but they could no way move him*. A gentleman 
 that had been employed to tamper with him told 
 me, that he found him so unmoveable, that one 
 time he and a certain lord being in the colonel’s 
 company, and having begun their vain insinuations, 
 he, to decline them, seeing Cooper, went away with 
 him ; upon which this lord, that had some tender¬ 
 ness for the colonel, “Well,” said he,to this gen¬ 
 tleman, “ the colonel is a ruined man, he believes 
 that traitor, which will ruin him.” When they 
 could not work into him one way, some, that, were 
 most kindly concerned in him, persuaded him to 
 absent himself and not act for the parliament, and 
 undertook with their lives to secure him, but he 
 would not. He foresaw the mischief, and resolved 
 to stay in his duty, waiting upon God, who accord¬ 
 ingly was good to him. Some, when they saw 
 Monk had betrayed them, would have fallen in 
 with Lambert, but the colonel thought any de¬ 
 struction was to be chosen before the sin of join¬ 
 ing with such a wretch. 
 
 Now was that glorious parliament come to a 
 period, not more fatal to itself than to the three 
 nations, whose sun of liberty then set, and all 
 their glory gave place to the foulest mists that 
 ever overspread a miserable people. A new par¬ 
 liament was to be chosen, and the county of Not¬ 
 tingham yet had such respect for Col. Hutchinson, 
 that they fixed their eyes on him to be their knight, 
 but Mr. William Pierrepont having a great desire 
 to bring in his son-in-law, the Lord Haugliton, to 
 be his fellow knight, the colonel would not come 
 into the town till the election was past ; which if 
 he had, he had been chosen without desiring it, 
 for many people came, and when they saw he 
 would not stand, returned and voted for none, 
 among whom were fifty freeholders of the town 
 of Newark. 
 
 Sometime before the writs for the new elections 
 came, the town of Nottingham, as almost all the 
 rest of the island, began to grow mad, and declare 
 themselves so, in their desires of the king. The 
 boys, set on by their fathers and masters, got 
 drums and colours, and marched up and down 
 the town, and trained themselves in a military 
 posture, and offered many affronts to the soldiers 
 
 * It was hard upon him, after this, to be accused by 
 Ludlow of treachery and connivance with the king’s 
 friends; but Ludlow was at this time engaged in a diffe¬ 
 rent party, perhaps envious of him for escaping with 
 impunity, when himself despaired of doing so, and went 
 into voluntary exile: and besides Sir A. Ashley Cooper 
 may have stipulated for Col. Hutchinson’s indemnity 
 gratuitously ; while most people suppose that some con¬ 
 ditions were imposed. His moderation in a time of frenzy 
 was surely a sufficient argument, and was probably that 
 which Cooper used in support of the man whom he was 
 forced to esteem, though he did not choose to imitate him. 
 
116 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 of the army, that were quartered there, which 
 were two troops of Col. Hacker’s regiment. Inso¬ 
 much that one night there were about forty of the 
 soldiers hurt and wounded Avith stones, upon the 
 occasion of taking away the drums, when the youths 
 were gathering together to make bonfires to burn 
 the Rump, as the custom of those mad days was. 
 The soldiers provoked to rage, shot again, and 
 killed in the scuffle two presbyterians, whereof 
 one was an elder, and an old professor ; and one 
 that had been a great zealot for the cause, and 
 master of the magazine of Nottingham castle. 
 He was only standing at his own door, and whether 
 by chance or on purpose, shot, or by whom, it is 
 not certain ; but true it is, that at that time, the 
 presbyterians were more inveterately bitter against 
 the fanatics then even the cavaliers themselves, 
 and they set on these boys. But upon the killing 
 of this man they were hugely enraged, and prayed 
 very seditiously in their pulpits and began openly 
 to desire the king ; not for good-will neither to 
 him, but for destruction to all the fanatics. One 
 of the ministers who were great leaders of the 
 people, had been engaged firmly in Booth’s rebel¬ 
 lion, and very many of the godly led in, who by 
 the timely suppression of those who began the 
 insurrection in Nottingham, were prevented from 
 declaring themselves openly. Col. Hutchinson 
 was as merciful as he could safely be, in not 
 setting on too strict inquisition ; but privately 
 admonishing such as were not past hopes of 
 becoming good commonwealth’s men, if it were 
 possible that the labouring state might outlive 
 the present storm. Upon this bustle in the town 
 of Nottingham, the soldiers were horribly incensed, 
 and the townsmen ready to take part with the 
 boys ; whereupon the soldiers drew into the mea¬ 
 dows near the town, and sent for the regiment, 
 resolving to execute their vengeance on the town, 
 and the townsmen again were mustering to encoun¬ 
 ter them. Mrs. Hutchinson by chance coming to 
 the town, and being acquainted with the captains, 
 persuaded them to do nothing in a tumultuary 
 way, however provoked, but to complain at the 
 general, and let him decide the business. 
 
 The men, at her entreaty, were content so to 
 do, the townsmen also consenting to restrain their 
 children and servants, and keep the public peace ; 
 while it was agreed, that both of them should 
 send up together a true information to the gene¬ 
 ral, concerning the late quarrel. But one of the 
 officers, more enraged than the rest, went imme¬ 
 diately away to Monk, and complained to him of 
 the malice of the presbyterian and cavalier against 
 the soldiers. He, without asking more on the 
 other side, signed a warrant to Col. Hacker, to 
 let loose the fury of his regiment upon the town, 
 and plunder all they judged guilty ; with which 
 the officer immediately went away. Col. Hut¬ 
 chinson being at that time at the general’s lodging, 
 my Lord Howard told him what order against the 
 town of Nottingham had just been sent down. 
 The colonel, who had been by his wife informed of 4 
 the disorders there, went to the general, and pre¬ 
 vailed with him for a countermand of all hostility 
 against the town, till he should hear and deter¬ 
 mine the business : which countermand the 
 colonel sent immediately by one of the townsmen, 
 who, though he rode post, came not till Col. Hacker, 
 
 I with all his regiment, were come into the town 
 
 before him, and the soldiers were in some of the 
 houses beginning to rifle them. Wherefore the 
 countermand coming so seasonably from Col. Hut¬ 
 chinson, they could not but look upon him as 
 their deliverer ; and this being done very few days 
 before the election for the next parliament, when 
 the colonel came to town and had waved the coun¬ 
 ty, they generally pitched upon him for the town. 
 But then Dr. Plumptre laboured all he could to 
 get the burgess-ship for himself, and to put by the 
 colonel, with the basest scandals he and two or 
 three of his associates could raise. Mr. Arthur 
 Stanhope, in whose house the soldiers were enter¬ 
 ed to plunder, being pitched upon for the other 
 burgess, and having a great party in the town, 
 was dealt with to desert the colonel, and offered 
 all Plumptre’s party ; but on the other side, he 
 laboured more for the colonel than for himself, 
 and at length, when the election day came, Mr. 
 Stanhope and the colonel were clearly chosen. 
 
 The colonel and Mr. Stanhope went up to the 
 parliament, which began on the 25th day of April, 
 1660 ; to whom the king sending a declaration 
 from Breda, which promised, or at least intimated, 
 liberty of conscience, remission of all offences, en¬ 
 joyment of liberties and estates ; they voted to 
 send commissioners to invite him. And almost 
 all the gentry of all parties went, some to fetch 
 him over, some to meet him at the sea-side, some 
 to fetch him into London, into which he entered 
 on the 29th day of May, with a universal joy and 
 triumph, even to his own amazement; who, when 
 he saw all the nobility and gentry of the land 
 flowing in to him, asked where were his enemies ? 
 For he saw nothing but prostrates, expressing all 
 the love that could make a prince happy. Indeed 
 it was a wonder in that day to see the mutability 
 of some, and the hypocrisy of others, and the 
 servile flattery of all. Monk, like his better 
 genius, conducted him, and was adored like one 
 that had brought all the glory and felicity of man¬ 
 kind home with this prince. 
 
 The officers of the army had made themselves 
 as fine as the courtiers, and every one hoped in 
 this change to change their condition, and disowned 
 all things they before had advised. Every ballad- 
 singer sang up and down the streets ribald rhymes, 
 made in reproach of the late commonwealth, and 
 all those worthies that therein endeavoured the 
 people’s freedom and happiness. 
 
 The presbyterians were now the white-boys, 
 and according to their nature fell a thirsting, 
 then hunting after blood, urging that God’s bless¬ 
 ing could not be upon the land till justice had 
 cleansed it from the late king’s blood. First that 
 fact was disowned, then all the acts made after it 
 rendered void, then an inquisition made after those 
 that were guilty thereof, but only seven nominated 
 of them that sat in judgment on that prince, for 
 exemplary justice, and a proclamation sent for 
 the rest to come in, upon penalty of losing their 
 estates. 
 
 While these things were debating in the house, 
 at the first, divers persons, concerned in that 
 business, sat there, and when the business came 
 into question, every one of them spoke to it, ac¬ 
 cording to their present sense. But Mr. Lenthal, 
 son to the late speaker of that parliament, when 
 the presbyterians first called that business into 
 question, though not at all concerned in it himself, 
 
r 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 117 
 
 ; stood up and made so handsome and honourable 
 a speech in defence of them all, as deserves eter¬ 
 nal honour. But the presbyterians called him to 
 the bar for it, where, though he mitigated some 
 expressions, which might be ill taken of the house, 
 yet he spoke so generously, as it is never to be 
 forgotten of’him. Herein he behaved himself with 
 so much courage and honour as was not matched 
 at that time in England, for which he was looked 
 on with an evil eye, and, upon a pretence of 
 Treason, put in prison ; from whence his father’s 
 money, and the lieutenant of the tower’s jealousy, 
 delivered him. When it came to Ingoldsby’s turn, 
 he, with many tears, professed his repentance for 
 that murder, and told a false tale, how Cromwell 
 held his hand, and forced him to subscribe the. 
 sentence, and made a most whining recantation, 
 after which he retired; and another had almost 
 ended, when Col. Hutchinson, who was not there at 
 the beginning, came in, and was told what they were 
 about, and that it would be expected he should 
 say something. He was surprised with a thing he 
 expected not, yet neither then, nor in any the 
 like occasion, did he ever fail himself, but told 
 ; them, “ That for his actings in those days, if 
 he had erred, it was the inexperience of his 
 age, and the defect of his judgment, and not the 
 malice of his heart, which had ever prompted him 
 to pursue the general advantage of his country 
 more than his own ; and if the sacrifice of him 
 | might conduce to the public peace and settlement, 
 he should freely submit liis life and fortunes to 
 their disposal: that the vain expense of his age, 
 and the great debts his public employments 
 had run him into, as they were testimonies that 
 neither avarice nor any other interest had carried 
 him on, so they yielded him just cause to repent 
 
 1 that he ever forsook his own blessed quiet to em¬ 
 
 bark in such a troubled sea, where he had made 
 shipwreck of all things but a good conscience ; and 
 as to that particular action of the king, he desired 
 them to believe he had that sense of it that be¬ 
 fitted an Englishman, a Christian, and a gentle¬ 
 man.” What he expressed was to this effect, but 
 so very handsomely delivered, that it generally 
 took the whole house : only one gentleman stood 
 up and said, he had expressed himself as one that 
 jl was much more sorry for the events and conse- 
 
 | quences, than the actions : but another replied, 
 
 that when a man’s words might admit of two 
 interpretations, it befitted gentlemen always to 
 receive that which might be most favourable. As 
 soon as the colonel had spoken, he retired into a 
 
 1 room, where Ingoldsby was, with his eyes yet red, 
 
 who had called up a little spite to succeed his 
 winnings, and embracing Col. Hutchinson, a 0 
 colonel,” said he, “ did I ever imagine we could 
 be brought to this ? could I have suspected it, 
 
 , when I brought them Lambert in the other day \ 
 
 This sword should have redeemed us from being 
 dealt with as criminals by that people, for whom 
 we had so gloriously exposed ourselves.” The 
 colonel told him, he had foreseen, ever since those 
 ( usurpers thrust out the lawful authority of the land 
 
 ’ to enthrone themselves, it could end in nothing else ; 
 
 but the integrity of his heart, in all he had done, 
 made him as cheerfully ready to suffer as to tri¬ 
 umph in a good cause. The result of the house 
 that day was to suspend Col. Hutchinson and the 
 rest from sitting in the house. Monk, after all 
 
 . 
 
 his great professions, now sat still, and had not 
 one word to interpose for any person, but was a.s 
 forward to set vengeance on foot as any man. 
 
 Mrs. Hutchinson, whom to keep quiet, her 
 husband had hitherto persuaded that no man would 
 lose or suffer by this change, at this beginning 
 was awakened, and saw that he was ambitious of 
 being a public sacrifice, and therefore, herein onlj 
 in her whole life, resolved to disobey him, and to 
 improve all the affection he had to her for his 
 safety, and prevailed with him to retire ; for, she 
 said, she would not live to see him a prisoner. 
 With her unquietness, she drove him out of her 
 own lodgings into the custody of a friend, in order 
 to his further retreat, if occasion should be, and 
 then made it her business to solicit all her friends 
 for his safety. Meanwhile in the house, it was 
 first resolved, that mercy should be shown to some, 
 and exemplary justice to others ; then the number 
 was defined, and voted it should not exceed seven; 
 then, upon the king’s own solicitation, that his 
 subjects should be put out of their fears, those 
 seven named ; and after that a proclamation sent 
 for the rest to come in. Col. Hutchinson not 
 being of the number of those seven, was advised 
 by all his friends to surrender himself, in order 
 to securing his estate, and he was very earnest to 
 do it, when Mrs. Hutchinson would by no means 
 hear of it : but being exceedingly urged by his 
 friends, that she would hereby obstinately lose all 
 their estate, she would not yet consent the colonel 
 should give himself into custody, and she had 
 wrought him to a strong engagement, that he would 
 not dispose of himself without her. At length 
 being accused of obstinacy, in not giving him up, 
 she devised a way to try the house, and wrote a 
 letter in his name to the speaker, to urge what 
 might be in his favour, and to let him know, that 
 by reason of some inconveniency it might be to 
 him, he desired not to come under custody, and 
 yet should be ready to appear at their call, and if 
 they intended any mercy to him, he begged they 
 would begin it in permitting him his liberty upon 
 his parole, till they should finally determine of 
 him. This letter she conceived would try the 
 temper of the house ; if they granted this, she had 
 her end, for he was still free ; if they denied it, 
 she might be satisfied in keeping him from sur¬ 
 rendering himself. 
 
 Having contrived and written this letter, before 
 she carried it to the colonel, a friend came to her 
 out of the house, near which her lodgings then 
 were, and told her that if they had but any ground 
 to begin, the house was that day in a most excel¬ 
 lent temper towards her husband ; whereupon she 
 wrote her husband’s name to the letter, and ven¬ 
 tured to send it in, being used sometimes to write 
 the letters he dictated, and her character not 
 much differing from his. These gentlemen who 
 were moved to try this opportunity, were not of 
 the friends she relied on ; but God, to show that 
 it was He, not they, sent two common friends, who 
 had so good success that the letter was very well 
 received ; and upon that occasion all of all parties 
 spoke so kindly and effectually for him, that he had 
 not only what he desired, but was voted to be free 
 without any engagement, and his punishment only 
 to be discharged from the present parliament, and 
 from all office, military or civil, in the state for 
 ever j and upon his petition of thanks for this, his 
 
 
118 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 estate also was voted to he free from all mulcts 
 and confiscations. Many providential circum¬ 
 stances concurred in this thing. That which put 
 the house into so good a humour towards the 
 colonel that day, was, that having taken the busi¬ 
 ness of the king’s trial into consideration, certain 
 committees were found to be appointed, to order 
 the preparation of the court, the chairs and cush¬ 
 ions, and other formalities, wherein Col. Hutchin¬ 
 son had nothing to do ;* but when they had passed 
 their votes for his absolute discharge and came to 
 the sitting of the court, he was found not to have 
 been one day away. A rogue that had been one 
 of their clerks had brought in all these informa¬ 
 tions ; and above all, poor Mrs. Hacker, thinking 
 to save her husband, had brought up the warrant 
 for execution, with all their hands and seals.f 
 
 Sir Allen Apsley too, who, with all the kindest 
 zeal of friendship that can be imagined, endea¬ 
 voured to bring off the colonel,.used some artifice 
 in engaging friends for Him. There was a young 
 gentleman, a kinsman of his, who thirstily aspired 
 after preferment, and Sir Allen had given him 
 hopes, upon his effectual endeavours for, the colonel, 
 to introduce him, who being a person that had 
 understanding enough, made no conscience of 
 truth, when an officious lie might serve his turn. 
 This man, although he owed his life to the colonel, 
 and had a thousand obligations to Mrs. Hutchin¬ 
 son’s parents, yet not for their sakes, nor for 
 virtue, nor for gratitude, but for his own hopes, 
 which he had of Sir Allen Apsley, told some of the 
 leading men among the court party, that it was 
 the king’s desire to have favour shown to the 
 colonel; whereupon Mr. Palmer, since Castle- 
 maine, was the first man that spoke for the colonel, 
 whom Finch most eloquently seconded. Then Sir 
 George Booth and his party all appeared for the 
 colonel, in gratitude for his civility to them. For 
 when the parliament had passed by the rebellion 
 of Lambert and Fleetwood, and those who joined 
 with them, and would not make their offences 
 capital, he had told the house, they could not 
 without great partiality punish these, and had 
 moved much jn their favour. Mr. Pierrepont, 
 and all the old sage parliament-men, out of very 
 hearty kindness, spoke and laboured very effec¬ 
 tually to bring him clear off; and there was not 
 at that day any man that received a more general 
 testimony of love and good esteem of all parties 
 than he did, not one of the most violent hunters of 
 blood opposing favour, and divers most worthy 
 persons giving a true and honourable testimony of 
 him. Although they knew his principles contrary 
 
 * In Nelson’s trial of Charles I. it appears, that on 
 Friday, Jan. 12, when a committee was appointed for 
 ordering the trial, and many minute particulars agreed to 
 for the management of it, Col. Hutchinson was absent, 
 hut attended most other days. On Jan. 25, however, when 
 the sentence was suggested, he was absent, hut was pre¬ 
 sent at the signing, and himself signed the warrant for 
 execution. 
 
 | To those who have not read or not remembered the 
 trials of the regicides, it may he useful to remark, that 
 Col. Hacker was tried for superintending the execution of 
 the king in his military capacity, for which it seems this 
 warrant was expected to prove a sufficient j ustifica tion, and 
 perhaps it ought to have been so considered; hut it is 
 extraordinary that his wife, before she gave up an instru¬ 
 ment which seemed so precious to those who were seeking 
 revenge, had not stipulated for her husband’s pardon. 
 
 to theirs, yet they so justified his clear and upright 
 carriage, according to his own persuasion, as was 
 a record much advancing his honour, and such as 
 no-man else in that day received.^ 
 
 Yet though he very well deserved it, I cannot 
 so much attribute that universal concurrence that 
 was in the whole house to express esteem of him 
 and desire to save him, to their justice and grati¬ 
 tude, as to an over-ruling power of Him that orders 
 all men’s hearts, who was then pleased to reserve 
 his servant, even by the good and true testimony 
 of some that afterwards hated him and sought his 
 ruin, for the perseverance in that goodness which 
 then forced them to be his advocates ; for even 
 the worst and basest men have a secret conviction 
 of worth and virtue, which they never dare to 
 persecute in its own name. The colonel being 
 thus discharged the house, retired to a remoter 
 lodging from Westminster, and lay very private in 
 the town, not coming into any company of one 
 sort or other, waiting till the act of oblivion were 
 perfected, to go down again into the country ; but 
 when the act came to be passed in the house, then 
 the Lord Lexington set divers friends on work in 
 the commons’ house to get a proviso inserted, that 
 the Newarkers’ money, which he paid into the 
 committee of Haberdasher’s Hall, and was by 
 that committee paid to the colonel for his pay, 
 might, with all the use of it, be paid out of the 
 colonel’s estate. He forged many false pretences 
 to obtain this ; but it was rejected in the commons’ 
 house, and the bill going up to the lords, was 
 passed without any provisoes. Only the gentle¬ 
 men that were the late king’s judges, and decoyed 
 to surrender themselves to custody by the house’s 
 proclamation, after that they had voted only seven 
 to suffer, were now given up to a trial, both for 
 their lives and estates, and put into close prison, 
 where they were miserably kept, brought shortly 
 after to trial, condemned, all their estates confis¬ 
 cated and taken away, themselves kept in miser¬ 
 able bondage under that inhuman bloody jailer 
 the lieutenant of the Tower, who stifled some of 
 them to death for want of air; and when they had 
 not one penny, but what was given them to feed 
 themselves and their families, exacted abominable 
 rates for bare unfurnished prisons ; of some forty 
 pounds for one miserable chamber, of others 
 double, besides undue and unjust fees, which their 
 poor wives were forced to beg and engage their 
 jointures and make miserable shifts for: and yet 
 this rogue had all this while three pounds a week 
 paid out of the exchequer for every one of them. 
 At last when this would not kill them fast enough, 
 and when some alms were thus privately stolen in 
 to them, they were sent away to remote and dismal 
 islands, where relief could not reach them, nor 
 any of their relations take care of them ; in this a 
 thousand times more miserable than those that 
 died, who were thereby prevented from the eternal 
 infamy and remorse whioh hope of life and estate 
 made these poor men bring upon themselves, by 
 base and false recantations of their own judgment, 
 against their consciences; which they wounded 
 for no advantage, but lived ever after in misery 
 themselves, augmented by seeing the misery of their 
 
 $ Mr. Lassels (probably Lascelles) enjoyed exactly a 
 similar exemption; the peculiar reasons for it are not 
 accurately known, but it is natural to suppose they were 
 similar. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 119 
 
 wretched families, and in the daily apprehension 
 of death, which, without any more formality, they 
 are to expect whenever the tyrant gives the word. 
 And these are the “ tender mercies of the wicked! 
 Among which I cannot forget one passage that 1 
 saw. Monk and his wife, before they were moved 
 to the Tower, while they were yet prisoners at Lam¬ 
 beth House, came one evening to the garden and 
 caused them to be brought down, only to stare at 
 them. Which was such a barbarism for that man, 
 who had betrayed so many poor men to death and 
 misery that never hurt him, but had honoured nun, 
 and trusted their lives and interest with him, 
 to glut his bloody eyes with beholding them in 
 their bondage, as no story can parallel the inhu¬ 
 manity of. , , . , 
 
 Col. Scroop, who had been cleared by vote as 
 the colonel was, was afterwards rased out for 
 nothing, and had the honour to die a noble martyr. 
 
 Athough the colonel was cleared both for liie 
 and estate in the house of commons, yet he not 
 answering the court expectations in public recan¬ 
 tations and dissembled repentance, and applause 
 of their cruelty to his fellows, the chancellor was 
 cruelly exasperated against him, and there were 
 very high endeavours to have rased him out ol 
 the act of oblivion. But then Sir Allen Apsley 
 solicited all his friends, as it had been for his own 
 life, and divers honourable persons drew up a 
 certificate, with all the advantage they could, to 
 procure him favour ; who in all things that were 
 not against the interest of the state had ever 
 pitied and protected them in their distresses. The 
 Countess of Rochester wrote a very effectual letter 
 to the Earl of Manchester, making her request 
 that the favour to him might be confirmed as an 
 obligation to her, to quit some that she, and as 
 she supposed, her lord had received from him. 
 This letter was read in the house, and Sir Allen 
 Apsley’s candidate for preferment again made no 
 conscience of deceiving several lords, that the 
 preserving of the colonel would be acceptable to 
 the king and the chancellor, who he now knew 
 hated his life. Many lords also of the colonel s 
 relations and acquaintance, out of kindness and 
 gratitude (for there was not one of them whom 
 he had not in his day more or less obliged), used 
 very hearty endeavours for him. Yet Sir Allen 
 Apsley’s interest and most fervent endeavours for 
 him, was that which only turned the scales, and the 
 colonel was not excepted in the act of oblivion to 
 anything but offices. 
 
 The provisoes to the act of oblivion were all cut 
 off, and it was determined that those things should 
 pass in particular acts ; when the Lord Lexington 
 got one for that Newark money to be repaid out 
 of the colonel’s estate, with all the interest for 
 fourteen years. This act was committed, and the 
 colonel had counsel to plead against it, and the 
 Marquis Dorchester* having the chair, was won- 
 
 * The same whom, when Viscount Newark, Col. Hutch¬ 
 inson rescued from the violence of the countrymen at 
 Nottingham; to whom afterwards the colonel made, at 
 the request of her friends, the offer of the hand and fortune 
 of Lady Anne Somerset, and who so handsomely now 
 evinces his candour and gratitude. His character is well 
 contrasted with that of Lord Lexington, who in the first 
 place obtained a peerage for the sacrifice of this very 
 money ; next refused payment of it to the Newarkers, of 
 whom he had borrowed it; then, upon being compelled to 
 pay it, procured easy terms by the colonel’s interfer- 
 
 derfully civil to the colonel. The adverse counsel 
 having been men that practised under the parlia¬ 
 ment, thought they could no way ingratiate them¬ 
 selves so well as by making invectives against 
 those they formerly clawed with, and when, quite 
 beside their matter, they fell into railings against 
 the injustice of the former times, and scandals of 
 the colonel, the marquis checked them severely, 
 and bade them mind their cause : but Mr. Finch, 
 one of the colonel’s counsel, after a lawyer had 
 made a long railing speech, which held them a 
 tedious while, he replying; “ My lord,” said he, 
 
 «this gentleman hath taken up a great deal of 
 time to tell your lordship how unjust that parlia¬ 
 ment was, how their committees perverted judg¬ 
 ment and right, which he sets forth with all his 
 power of language to make them odious, and in 
 conclusion would persuade your lordship therefore 
 to do the same things.” After the hearing at the 
 committee, a report was made so favourable for 
 the colonel that the bill was cast aside, and the 
 house being then ready to adjourn, most of the 
 colonel’s friends went out of town, which opportu¬ 
 nity Lexington taking notice of, the very last day 
 in a huddle got the bill passed the lords’ house.f 
 Then the colonel went down into the country, 
 and found it necessary to reduce and change his 
 family, which were many of them people he took 
 in for charity, when they could no-where else be 
 received, and they had been more humble and 
 dutiful while they were under hatches, but now 
 might find better preferments, and were not to be 
 confided in ; yet he dismissed not any of them 
 without bountiful rewards, and such kind dismis¬ 
 sions as none but that false generation would not 
 have been obliged by. But some of them soon 
 after betrayed him as much as was in their power, 
 whose prudence had so lived with them, that they 
 knew nothing that could hurt his person. 
 
 When the colonel saw how the other poor gen¬ 
 tlemen were trepanned that were brought in by 
 proclamation, and how the whole cause itself, from 
 the beginning to the ending, was betrayed and 
 condemned, notwithstanding that he himself, by a 
 wonderful over-ruling providence of God, in that 
 day was preserved; yet he looked upon himself as 
 judged in their judgment, and executed in their 
 ‘execution ; and although he was most thankful to 
 God, yet he was not very well satisfied in himself 
 for accepting the deliverance. His wife, who 
 thought she had never deserved so well of lnm, 
 as in the endeavours and labours she exercised to 
 bring him off, never displeased him more in her 
 life, and had much ado to persuade him to be con¬ 
 tented with his deliverance ; which, as it was emi¬ 
 nently wrought by God, he acknowledged it with 
 thankfulness; but while he saw others suffer, he 
 suffered with them in his mind, and, had not his 
 wife persuaded him, had offered himself a volun¬ 
 tary sacrifice, but being by her convinced that 
 God’s eminent appearance seemed to have singled 
 him out for preservation, he with thanks acquiesced 
 in that thing; and further remembering that he 
 was but young at that time when he entered into 
 
 ence; and now attempts to plunder his benefactor of the 
 
 + The practice of parliament at that time must have 
 differed from what it now is, for such a bill to originate 
 in the house of lords: we shall presently see it miscarry 
 in the commons. 
 
120 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 this engagement, and that many who had preached 
 and led the people into it, and of that parliament, 
 who had declared it to be treason not to advance 
 and promote that cause, were all now apostatised, 
 and as much preached against it, and called itrebel- 
 lion and murder, and sat on the tribunal to judge 
 it; he again reflected seriously upon all that was 
 past, and begged humbly of God to enlighten him 
 and show him his sin, if ignorance or misunder¬ 
 standing had led him into error; but the more he 
 examined the cause from the first, the more he 
 became confirmed in it, and from that time set 
 himself to a more diligent study of the scriptures, 
 whereby he attained confirmation in many princi¬ 
 ples he had before, and daily greater enlightenings 
 concerning the free grace and love of God in Jesus 
 Christ, and the spiritual worship under the gospel, 
 and the gospel liberty, which ought not to be sub¬ 
 jected to the wills and ordinances of men in the 
 i service of God. This made him rejoice in all he 
 had done in the Lord’s cause, and he would often 
 I say, the Lord had not thus eminently preserved 
 J him for nothing, but that he was yet kept for 
 some eminent service or suffering in this cause; 
 
 I although having been freely pardoned by the pre- 
 [ sent powers, he resolved not to do anything against 
 | the king, but thought himself obliged to sit still 
 and wish his prosperity in all things that were 
 j not destructive to the interest of Christ and his 
 members on earth ; yet as he could not wish well 
 j to any ill way, so he believed that God had set 
 him aside, and that therefore he ought to mourn 
 : in silence and retiredness, while he lay under this 
 j obligation. 
 
 He had not been long at home but a pursuivant 
 from the council was sent to fetch him from his 
 house at Owthorpe, who carried him to the at¬ 
 torney-general. He, with all preparatory insinua¬ 
 tions, how much he would express his gratitude to 
 the king and his repentance for his error, if he 
 would now deal ingenuously in bearing testimony 
 to what he should be examined, sifted him very 
 thoroughly; but the colonel, who was piqued at 
 heart that they should thus use him, to reserve 
 him with an imagination that he would serve their 
 turns in witnessing to the destruction of the rest, 
 composed himself as well as he could, and resolved 
 upon another testimony than they expected, if 
 they had called him to any. But the attorney- 
 general was so ill satisfied with his private ex¬ 
 amination that he would not venture a public one. 
 He dealt with him with all the art and flatteries 
 that could be, to make him but appear, in the 
 least thing, to have deserted his own and embraced 
 the king’s party ; and he brought the warrant of 
 execution to the colonel, and would fain have per¬ 
 suaded him to own some of the hands, and to have 
 imparted some circumstances of the sealing, be¬ 
 cause himself was present. But the colonel an¬ 
 swered him, that in a business transacted so many 
 years ago, wherein life was concerned, he durst 
 not bear a testimony, having at that time been so 
 little an observer, that he could not remember the 
 least tittle of that most eminent circumstance, of 
 Cromwell’s forcing Col. Ingoldsby to set to his 
 unwilling hand, which, if his life had depended on 
 that circumstance, he could not have affirmed. 
 “ And then, Sir,” said he, “ if I have lost so great 
 a thing as that, it cannot be expected less eminent 
 passages remain with me.” Then being shown 
 
 the gentlemen’s hands, he told him he was not 
 well acquainted with them, as having never had 
 commerce with the most of them by letters; and 
 those he could own, he could only say they resem¬ 
 bled the writings which he was acquainted with ; 
 among these he only picked out Cromwell’s, Ire- 
 ton’s, and my Lord Grey’s. The attorney-general, 
 very ill satisfied with his private examination, 
 dismissed him; yet was he served with a writ to 
 appear in the court the next day. The colonel 
 had been told that, when they were in distress 
 for witnesses to make up their formality, Col. 
 Ingoldsby had put them upons ending for him, 
 which made him give that instance to the attorney. 
 The next day the court sat, and the colonel was 
 fetched in and made to pass before the prisoner’s 
 faces, but examined to nothing ; which he much 
 waited for, for the sight of the prisoners, with 
 whom he believed himself to stand at the bar, 
 and the sight of the judges, among whom was 
 that vile traitor who had sold the men that 
 trusted him; and he that openly said he abhorred 
 the word accommodation, when moderate men 
 would have prevented the war; and the colonel’s 
 own dear friend, who had wished damnation to 
 his soul if he ever suffered penny of any man’s 
 estate, or hair of any man’s head, to be touched ; 
 the sight of these * had so provoked his spirit 
 that, if he had been called to speak, he was re¬ 
 solved to have borne testimony to the cause and 
 against the court; but they asking him nothing, 
 he went to his lodging, and so out of town, and 
 would not come any more into their court, but 
 sent the attorney-general word he could witness 
 nothing, and was sick with being kept in the 
 crowd and the press, and therefore desired to be 
 excused from coming any more thither. The at¬ 
 torney made a very malicious report of him to 
 the chancellor and the king, insomuch as his ruin 
 was then determined, and only opportunity watched 
 to effect it. 
 
 When Sir A. Apsley came to the chancellor, he 
 was in a great rage and passion, and fell upon him 
 with much vehemence. “ O Nall,” said he, “ what 
 have you done ? you have saved a man that would 
 be ready, if he had opportunity, to mischief us as 
 much as ever he did.” Sir Allen was forced to 
 stop his mouth, and tell him, that he believed his 
 brother a less dangerous person than those he had 
 brought into the king’s council, meaning Maynard 
 and Glynnef; but the truth is, from that time all 
 kindness that any one expressed to the colonel was 
 ill resented, and the Countess of Rochester was I 
 also severely rebuked for having appeared so kind 
 to the colonel. 
 
 When the parliament sat again, the colonel sent 
 up his wife to solicit his business in the house, 
 that the Lord Lexington’s bill might not pass the 
 lower house. At her first coming to town a par¬ 
 liament-man, a creature of Worcester-house, being 
 
 * Monk, Ashley Cooper, and Hollis. Does not every one 
 feel his indignation roused at this wanton outrage upon 
 decency ? Perhaps Col. Hutchinson’s appearance in court 
 may have been misconstrued by many, as they might be 
 ignorant that it was involuntary, and no one but himself 
 could know that he meant to give evidence contrary to 
 what was desired of him. 
 
 t Maynard and Glynne had chimed in not only with the 
 parliament but with Cromwell, under whom both held 
 offices. The chancellor will hereafter find them dangerous 
 inmates—in pushing the affair of his accusation and exile. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 in his coach, she out of hers called to him, who 
 was her kinsman, and desired his vigilancy to pre¬ 
 vent her injury. “ I could wish,” said he, “ it 
 had been finished last time, for your husband hath 
 lately so ill-behaved himself, that it will pass against 
 him.” She answered, “ I pray let my friends' but 
 do their endeavours for me, and then let it be as 
 God will.” He smiling at her, replied, “ It is not 
 now as God will, but as we will ”_ However she, 
 notwithstanding many other discouragements, 
 waited upon the business every day, when her 
 adversaries as diligently solicited against her. 
 One day a friend came out of the house, and told 
 her that they were that day so engaged that she 
 might go home and rest secure nothing would be 
 done, and that day most of her friends were away, 
 and her opposites took this opportunity to bring 
 it into the house, which was now much alienated, 
 especially all the court party, from the colonel; 
 but God, to show that not friends, nor diligence, 
 preserved our estates, stirred up the hearts of 
 strangers to do us justice, and the bill was thrown 
 out when we had scarce one of these friends we 
 relied on in the house. 
 
 Presently after Mrs. Hutchinson came to town, 
 a kinsman of hers, fallen into the wicked counsels 
 of the court, came to visit her one evening, and 
 had been so freely drinking as to unlock his bosom, 
 when he told her that the king had been lately 
 among them where he was, and told them that 
 they had saved a man, meaning Col. Hutchinson, 
 who would do the same thing for him he did for 
 his father, for he was still unchanged in his prin¬ 
 ciples, and readier to protect than accuse any of 
 his associates, and would not discover any counsels 
 or designs, or any party, though he were known 
 to have hated them. Then this gentleman told 
 her how contemptuous a carriage it was, that he 
 would not own one but dead hands, and how they 
 I were resolved his pardon should never pass the 
 I seal, and what a desperate condition he was re¬ 
 duced to. Having thus affrighted her, then, to 
 draw her in by examples, he told her how the 
 late statesmen’s wives came and offered them all 
 the informations they had gathered from their 
 husbands, and how she could not but know more 
 than any of them; and if yet she would impart 
 anything that might show her gratitude, she might 
 redeem her family from ruin; and then parti¬ 
 cularly told her how her husband had been inti¬ 
 mate with Vane, Pierrepont, and St. John, whose 
 counsels they knew how far they had gone in this 
 matter, and that if she would prevent others in 
 the declaring of them, she might much advantage 
 herself. But she told him, she perceived any 
 safety one could buy of them was not worth the 
 price of honour and conscience; that she knew 
 nothing of state managements, or if she did, she 
 would not establish herself upon any man’s blood 
 and ruin. Then he employed all his wit to cir¬ 
 cumvent her in discourse, to have gotten something 
 out of her concerning some persons they aimed at, 
 which if he could, I believe would have been 
 beneficial to him; but she discerned his drift, and 
 scorned to become an informer, and made him 
 I believe she was ignorant, though she could have 
 
 f enlightened him in the thing he sought for; which 
 they are now never likely to know much of, it 
 being locked up in the grave, and they that 
 survive not knowing that their secrets are re¬ 
 
 121 
 
 moved into another cabinet.* After all, natural 
 affection working at that time with the gentleman, 
 he in great kindness advised her that her husband 
 should leave England. She told him he could not 
 conveniently, and the act of oblivion being passed, 
 she knew not why he should fear, who was re¬ 
 solved to do nothing that might forfeit the grace 
 he had found. But he told her it was determined 
 that, if there were the least pretence in the world, 
 the colonel should be imprisoned, and never be 
 left loose again; which warning, though others of 
 his friends said it was but an effect of his wine, 
 the consequence proved it but too true. 
 
 She advertised the colonel and persuaded him, 
 being also advised to the same by other friends, 
 to go out of England, but he would not: he said 
 this was the place where God had set him, and 
 protected him hitherto, and it would be in him an 
 ungrateful distrust of God to forsake it. At this 
 time he would have sold part of his estate to pay 
 his debts, but the purchasers scrupled, desiring to 
 see his pardon, which he not having, was fain to 
 break off the treaty; and though all the friends 
 
 * Any who are delighted with the discovery of a secret 
 will be disappointed that Mrs. Hutchinson did not even 
 here reveal hers, but resisted the bewitching vanity of 
 showing the confidence that had been reposed in her, by 
 betraying it. She might, perhaps, with great propriety, 
 think it not prudent to commit it to writing, though it 
 was to be read only by her own family.—Of the persons 
 here named, Sir H. Yane, it is well known, was sacrificed 
 to the manes of Lord Strafford, whose attainder he was 
 supposed in a great measure to have procured : but there 
 seems not to have been any pretence for excepting him 
 out of the amnesty.* He viewed his fate, and the king 
 who sentenced him to it, with equal contempt; and the 
 passage before us is a proof of the fidelity he maintained 
 towards his associates.—St. John was excluded from all 
 offices; but Pierrepont escaped untouched in all respects, 
 and represented the county of Nottingham in the short 
 parliament which restored the king, but appears not to 
 have been re-chosen in that which succeeded it. That he 
 who w*as so deeply engaged should have come off so well, 
 is matter of wonder, and the more so when we take into 
 consideration the following particulars. 
 
 The ingenious writer of the critique of this work in the 
 Annual Review, conjectures that the secret which this 
 friend of Mrs. Hutchinson endeavoured to extort from her 
 was, the name of that considerable person who had formed 
 the design of settling the state under Richard Cromwell, as 
 mentioned in p. Ill : this is highly probable, and still 
 more so that this person was Mr. William Pierrepont, and 
 that the royalists aimed peculiarly at his destruction, as 
 will appear from many passages that are to be found in 
 the third volume of Clarendon’s State Papers. In one 
 part the good-will of Pierrepont to Richard Cromwell and 
 Richard’s respect for him are spoken of: in another Hyde 
 instructs his spies to “ gain Thurloe, whom he thinks con¬ 
 siderable, and he would gain St. John and Pierrepont,” 
 adding significantly, “ they have manifested that they 
 have no inveterate objection to a single person, and the 
 right heir is the person.” In another place it is said by 
 one of the spies that “ St. John, Pierrepont, and Thurloe, 
 continue to cabal and press the general (Monk); three such 
 evil beasts do not exist.” But when Pierrepont is re¬ 
 ported to be ill, the most eager wishes are expressed for 
 his death. No doubt but the virtuous ministers of Charles 
 II. dreaded his abilities and integrity as they coveted his 
 property: but supported by such connexions as he was, 
 they could not venture to attack him without some clear 
 and strong information against him. That these harpies 
 were disappointed in their project of extinguishing this 
 eminent patriot and his family, and pouncing on their 
 possessions, may then most likely b < attributed to the 
 constancy and discretion of Mrs. Hutchinson. 
 
122 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 he had laboured it, the chancellor utterly refused 
 it. There was a thousand pounds offered to one 
 to procure it, but it was tried several times and 
 would not pass, by reason of which he was pre¬ 
 vented of the opportunity then to settle his estate; 
 yet a year after, a little solicitor shuffled it in 
 among many others, and managed it so dexterously 
 that it passed all the seals. The colonel’s estate 
 being in mortgage with a peevish alderman, who 
 had a design upon it, to have bought it for little or 
 nothing, he had a great trouble with him ; for hav¬ 
 ing procured him his money, he would not assign the 
 mortgage, and the others would not lend the money 
 without assignment from him, so that it put the 
 colonel to many inconveniences and great expense. 
 
 This parliament being risen, another was called 
 by the king’s writ, wherein the act of oblivion 
 was again confirmed, not without some canvassing 
 and opposition ; and here again another act about 
 that money of the Lord Lexington’s was prepared 
 and twice read in the house, through divers 
 abominable untruths which they had forged and 
 possessed the members withal. The colonel him¬ 
 self solicited his own defence, and had all the 
 injustice and foul play imaginable at the com¬ 
 mittee appointed to examine it, and it was so 
 desperate that all his friends persuaded him to 
 compound it ; but he would not, though his ene¬ 
 mies offered it, but said, he would either be cleared 
 by a just, or ruined by an unjust sentence, and, 
 pursuing it with his usual alacrity and vigour in 
 all things, he at last removed that prepossession 
 that some of the gentlemen had against him, and 
 clearing himself to’ some that were most violent, 
 it pleased God to turn the hearts of the house at 
 last to do him justice, and to throw out the bill 
 for evermore, which was a great mercy to him 
 and his family, for it was to have thrown him out 
 of possession of all the estates he had, and to have 
 put them into his enemies’ hands till they had 
 satisfied themselves ; but the defending himself 
 was very chargeable to him, and not only so, but 
 this rumour of trouble upon his estate, and the 
 brags of his enemies, and the cloud he lay under, 
 hindered him both from letting and selling, and 
 improving his estate, so that it very much aug¬ 
 mented his debt. 
 
 Before this time, in December 1660, Capt. 
 Cooper sent one Broughton, a lieutenant, and 
 Andrews, a cornet, with a company of soldiers, 
 who plundered his house at Owthorpe, while he 
 was absent, of all the weapons they found in it, to 
 his very wearing-swords, and his own armour for 
 himself, although at that time there was no pro¬ 
 hibition of any person whatsoever to have or wear 
 arms. The colonel was not then at home, and 
 the arms were laid up in a closet within his 
 chamber, where they searched, and all the house 
 over, to see if they could have found plate or 
 anything else, but when they could not, they 
 carried these away, which one of his servants, 
 whom he had dismissed with a good reward, be¬ 
 trayed to them. His eldest son went to the Mar¬ 
 quis of Newcastle, lord lieutenant of the county, 
 and complained of the violence of the soldiers, 
 and my lord gave him an order to have the 
 swords and other things back, and some pistols 
 which were the Lord Biron’s, but Mr. Cooper con¬ 
 temned my lord’s order, and would not obey it. 
 The arms were worth near <£100. 
 
 Also an order came down from the secretary, 
 commanding certain pictures and other things the 
 colonel had bought out of the late king’s collec¬ 
 tion, which had cost him in ready money between 
 ,£1000 and £1500 and were of more value, and 
 these, notwithstanding the act of oblivion, were 
 all taken from him. 
 
 After these troubles were over from without, 
 the colonel lived with all imaginable retiredness 
 at home, and, because his active spirit could not 
 be idle nor very sordidly employed, took up his 
 time in opening springs, and planting trees, and 
 dressing his plantations; and these were his 
 recreations, wherein he relieved many poor la¬ 
 bourers when they wanted work, which was a 
 very comfortable charity to them and their fami¬ 
 lies : with these he would entertain himself, giving 
 them much encouragement in their honest labours, 
 so that they delighted to be employed by him. 
 His business was serious revolving the law of 
 God, wherein he laboured to instruct his children 
 and servants, and enjoyed himself with much 
 patience and comfort, not envying the glories and 
 honours of the court, nor the prosperity of the 
 wicked; but only grieved that the straitness of 
 his own revenues would not supply his large heart 
 to the poor people in affliction. Some little 
 troubles he had in his own house. His son, un¬ 
 known to him, married a very worthy person,* 
 with the manner of which he was so discontented 
 that he once resolved to have banished them 
 for ever, but his good-nature was soon over¬ 
 come, and he received them into his bosom, 
 and for the short time he enjoyed her had no 
 less love for her than for any of his own chil¬ 
 dren. And indeed she was worthy of it, apply¬ 
 ing herself with such humble dutifulness and 
 kindness to repair her fault, and to please 
 him in all the things he delighted in, that he 
 was ravished with the joy of her, who loved the 
 place not as his own wife did, only because she 
 was placed in it, but with a natural affection, which 
 encouraged him in all the pains he took to adorn 
 it, when he had one to leave it to that would 
 esteem it. She was besides naturalised into his 
 house and interests, as if she had had no other 
 regard in the world; she was pious and cheerful, 
 liberal and thrifty, complaisant and kind to all the 
 family; and the freest from humour of any woman, 
 loving home, without melancholy or sullenness, 
 observant of her father and mother, not with 
 regret, but with delight, and the most submissive 
 affectionate wife that ever was: but she, and all 
 the joy of her sweet, saint-like conversation, ended 
 in a lamented grave, about a year after her 
 marriage, when she died in childbirth, and left the 
 sweetest babe behind her that ever was beheld, 
 whose face promised all its mother’s graces, but 
 death, within eight weeks after her birth, ravished 
 this sweet blossom, whose fall opened the fresh 
 wounds of sorrow for her mother, thus doubly lost. 
 While the mother lived, which was ten days after 
 her delivery, the colonel and his wife employed all 
 imaginable pains and cares for her recovery, 
 whereof they had often hopes, but in the end all in 
 vain; she died, and left the whole house in very 
 sensible affliction, which continued upon the colonel 
 and his wife till new strokes awakened them out of 
 
 * The daughter of Sir Alexander Ratcliffe, of the royalist 
 party. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 the silent sorrow of this funeral. Her husband 
 having no joy in the world after she was gone, 
 some months shut himself up with his grief in Ins 
 chamber, out of which he was hardly persuaded 
 to go, and when he did, every place about home so 
 much renewed the remembrance of her he could 
 not think of but with deep affliction, that being 
 invited by his friends abroad to divert his melan¬ 
 choly* he grew a little out of love with home, 
 which was a great damping to the pleasures his 
 father took in the place: but he, how eager soever 
 he-were in the love of any worldly thing, had that 
 moderation of spirit that lie submitted his will 
 always to God, and endeavoured to give him thanks 
 in all things. 
 
 This winter, about October and the following 
 months, the papists began to be very high, and a 
 sort of strangers were come into Nottingham, who 
 were observed to distinguish themselves by scarlet 
 ribands in their hats ; and one night, in a drunken 
 humour, a papist fired a hay barn in a wood-yard 
 in Nottingham, which, if not discovered and pre¬ 
 vented by many providences, might have endangered 
 much of the town: but it did £200 worth of mis¬ 
 chief ; but the matter was shuffled up and com¬ 
 pounded, although the same night several other 
 towns were attempted to be fired. A great papist 
 at Eastwold was known to assemble two hundred 
 men in arms in the night, and some of the Lord 
 Carrington’s tenants, that went to Arundel-house 
 to speak with their landlord, observed very strange 
 suspicious signs of some great business on foot 
 among the papists, who, both in Nottinghamshire 
 and Leicestershire, were so exalted, that the very 
 country people everywhere apprehended some 
 insurrection. Among the rest there was a light- 
 i headed debauched young knight, that lived next 
 town to 0wthorpe, who vapoured beyond all bounds, 
 and had twelve pair of holsters for pistols, at one 
 time, of the colonel’s saddler, and rode at that time 
 with half-a-dozen men, armed, up and down the 
 country, and sent them, and went himself to several 
 men who had been soldiers in the army, to offer 
 them brave terms to list under him, telling them 
 they, meaning the papists, should have a day for 
 it. Besides, he, with the parson of the parish, and 
 some other men, at an alehouse, began a health to 
 the confusion of all the protestants in England; 
 and one of the colonel’s maids going to Colson, to 
 j have a sore eye cured by a woman in the town, heard 
 1 there that he had vapoured, the papists should 
 shortly have their day, and that he would not leave 
 ’ one alive in the colonel’s house. He sent to the 
 preacher of Cotgrove, to forbid him to preach on 
 Gunpowder-treason day, threatening to kill him 
 if he did, insomuch that the town were forced 
 to keep a guard all that day upon the steeple. 
 
 The men whom the papists had endeavoured to 
 list, acquainted the colonel with it, whereof some 
 being in Leicestershire, the colonel sent his son to 
 Sir George Villiers, one of the deputy-lieutenants 
 of that eounty, to acquaint him with it; but he 
 1! slighted the matter, although at that time it would 
 have been proved that Golding brought a whole 
 ' coach loaden with pistols, as many as they could 
 stuff under the seats and in the boots, to the house 
 1 of one Smith, a papist, dwelling at Queniborough 
 
 • Mr. Thomas Hutchinson did not marry again, but 
 died without issue. 
 
 in Leicestershire. The colonel also sent to the 
 deputy lieutenants of our county, to acquaint them of 
 the public danger, and how himself was threatened; 
 and, by reason that his house had been disarmed, 
 desired that he might have leave to procure some 
 necessary arms to defend it; but they sent him 
 word that the insurrection of the papists was but 
 a fanatic jealousy, and if he were afraid, they would 
 send him a guard, but durst not allow him to arm 
 his house. He disdaining their security that would 
 not trust him with his own, would have taken a 
 house at Nottingham for his wife to lie in, who 
 being then big with child, was near her account; 
 but although she were fearful, yet when she found 
 him resolved to stay in his own house, she would 
 not go ; whereupon he made strong shuts to all his 
 low windows with iron bars, and that very night that 
 they were set up, the house was attempted to be 
 broken into in the night, and the glass of one of the 
 great casements broken, and the little iron bars of 
 it crashed in sunder. Mrs. Hutchinson being late 
 up, heard the noise, and thought somebody had 
 been forcing the doors, but as we since heard, it 
 was Golding who made the attempt. The common 
 people everywhere falling into suspicion of the 
 papists, began to be highly offended at their in¬ 
 solence, and to mutter strange words; whither it 
 were this, or what else, we know not, but their 
 design proceeded no further; yet there is nothing 
 more certain, than that at that time they had a 
 design of rising generally all over England in arms. 
 But the colonel lived so retired, that he never 
 understood how it was taken up, and how it fell 
 off, yet although they would not take the alarm 
 from him, even the gentlemen of the county after¬ 
 wards believed they were hatching some mischief, 
 
 and feared it. # 
 
 The colonel continued his usual retireuness all 
 that winter and the next summer, about the end 
 of which he dreamed one night that he saw cer¬ 
 tain men in a boat upon the Thames, labouring 
 against wind and tide, to bring their boat, which 
 stuck in the sands, to shore; at which he, being 
 in the boat, was angry with them, and told them 
 they toiled in vain, and would never effect their 
 purpose; but, said he, let it alone and let me try; 
 whereupon he laid him down in the boat, and 
 applying his breast to the head of it, gently shoved 
 it along, till he came to land on Southwark side, 
 and there, going out of the boat, walked in the 
 most pleasant lovely fields, so green and flourish¬ 
 ing and so embellished with the cheerful sun 
 that shone upon them, as he never saw anything 
 so delightful, and there he met his father, who 
 gave him certain leaves of laurel, which had many 
 words written in them which he could not read. 
 The colonel was never superstitious of dreams, 
 but this stuck a little in his mind, and we were 
 therefore seeking applications of it, which proved 
 nothing in the event, but that having afforded one, 
 I know not whether the dream might not he in¬ 
 spired. The boat representing the commonwealth, 
 which several unquiet people sought to enfranchise, 
 
 by vain endeavours,against wind and tide, parallel¬ 
 ing the plots and designs some impatient people 
 then carried on without strength, or counsel, or 
 unity among themselves ; his lying down and shov¬ 
 ing it with his breast, might signify the advance¬ 
 ment of the cause, by the patient suffering of the 
 martyrs, among which his own was to be eminent, 
 
124 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 and on the other side of the river to land him into 
 walks of everlasting pleasure, he dying on that 
 shore, and his father’s giving him these laurel 
 leaves with unintelligible characters, foretold him 
 those triumphs which he could not read in his 
 mortal estate ; hut to let dreams pass— 
 
 I cannot here omit one story, though not 
 altogether so much of the colonel’s concern, yet 
 happening this summer, not unworthy mention. 
 Mr. Palmer, a certain non-conformist preacher, 
 was taken at his own house in Nottingham by the 
 mayor of the town, for preaching upon the Lord’s 
 day, and some others with him, (whereof one was 
 formerly a servant of the colonel’s, and had mar¬ 
 ried one of his maids), and put into the town’s 
 jail, where they continued about two or three 
 months. There being a grated window in the 
 prison, that was almost even with the ground, and 
 looked into the street, all people coming by, might 
 see these poor people, kept in a damp ill-favoured 
 room, where they patiently exhorted and cheered 
 one another. One Lord’s day, after sermon-time, 
 the prisoners were singing a psalm, and the people 
 as they passed up and down, still when they came 
 to the prison, stood still, till there were a great 
 many gathered about the window at which Mr. 
 Palmer was preaching; whereupon the mayor, 
 one Toplady, who had formerly been a parliament 
 officer, but was now a renegado, came violently 
 with his officers, and beat the people, and thrust 
 some into prison that were but passing the streets, 
 kicked and pinched the men’s wives in his rage, 
 and was the more exasperated, when some of them 
 told him, how ill his fury became him, who had 
 once been one of them. The next day, or few 
 days after, having given order the prisoners should 
 every Lord’s day after be locked in the coal-house, 
 he went to London and made information, I heard on 
 oath, to the council, that a thousand of the country 
 came in armed to the town, and marched to the 
 prison window, to hear the prisoner preach ; where¬ 
 upon he procured an order for a troop of horse to 
 be sent down to quarter at Nottingham, to keep 
 the fanatics in awe. But one who had relation to 
 the town, being then at court, and knowing this 
 to be false, certified to the contrary, and prevented 
 the troop. After the mayor came down, he was 
 one night taken with a vomiting of blood, and 
 being ill, called his man and his maid, who also, at 
 the same time, fell a bleeding, and were all ready 
 to be choked in their own blood, which at last 
 stopping, they came to assist him ; but after that • 
 he never lifted up his head, but languished a few 
 months and died. 
 
 While these poor people were in prison, the 
 colonel sent them some money, and, as soon as 
 their time was expired, Mr. Palmer came to 
 Owthorpe to give him thanks, and preached there 
 one Lord’s day. Whether this were taken notice 
 of is not evident, but within a short time after, 
 upon the Lord’s day, the 11th of October, 1663, 
 the colonel having that day finished the expound¬ 
 ing of the Epistle to the Romans to his household, 
 and the servants being gone out of the parlour 
 from him, one of them came in and told him 
 soldiers were come to the town. He was not at all 
 surprised, but stayed in the room till they came in, 
 who were conducted by Atkinson, one of those 
 Newark men who had so violently before pro¬ 
 secuted him at the parliament, and he told the i 
 
 colonel he must go along with them, after they had 
 searched the house ; for which the colonel required 
 their commission, which at the first they said they 
 need not show, but after they showed him an order 
 from Mr. Francis Leke, one of the deputy lieu¬ 
 tenants, forthwith to repair to his house, to search 
 for and bring away what arms they could find, 
 and to seize his person. All which they did, and 
 found no arms in the house, but four birding guns, 
 that hung open in the kitchen, which being the 
 young gentleman’s, at that time they left. It was 
 after sunset when they came, and they were at 
 least two hours searching every corner and all 
 about the house, and the colonel was not at that 
 time very well in health, and not having been for 
 six months before on horseback, had neither horses 
 nor saddles at that time in the house; the coach¬ 
 man was also gone away, and the coach-horses 
 turned out, and it was as bitter a stormy, pitchy, 
 dark, black, rainy night, as any that came that 
 year; all which considered, the colonel desired 
 that they would but stay for the morning light, 
 that he might accommodate himself: but they 
 would not, but forced him to go then along with 
 them, his eldest son lending him a horse, and also | 
 voluntarily accompanying him to Newark, where, 
 about four of the clock in the morning, he was 
 brought into the Talbot, and put into a most vile 
 room, and two soldiers kept guard upon him in 
 that room. 
 
 And now what they ailed we knew not, but they 
 were all seized with a panic fear, and the whole j 
 country fiercely alarmed, and kept at Newark 
 many days at intolerable charges, and I think 
 they never yet knew what they were sent for in 
 to do, but to guard Col. Hutchinson ; who being at 
 first put into a room that looked into the street, , 
 was removed after into a back room, worse, if 
 worse could be, and so bad that they would not 
 let the Duke of Buckingham’s footmen lodge in 
 it: and here he continued, no man coming at him 
 nor letting him know why he was brought in. 
 
 The next day Mrs. Hutchinson sent him some 
 linen, and as soon as the man came, Tomson, the 
 host of the inn, would not suffer him to see his 
 master, but seized him and kept him prisoner two 
 days. Mr. Thomas Hutchinson had a mare which 
 the inn-keeper had a desire to buy, and his father 
 persuaded him to let him have her worth money, 
 who thereupon agreed on the price, only Tomson 
 desired him to let him try the mare six miles, 
 which he condescended to do, upon condition that 
 if Tomson rode the mare above six miles, he 
 should pay the money for her, and furnish Mr. 
 Hutchinson with a horse home, or to my Lord of 
 Newcastle’s, or any other occasion he had while 
 he was at Newark. Upon this bargain Tomson 
 had the mare, but instead of going but six miles, I 
 led a greater party of horse than those who first I 
 seized the colonel, to Owthorpe, and coming in I 
 after sunset, to the affright of Mrs. Hutchinson t 
 and her children, again searched their house more 
 narrowly if possible than at first, with much more 
 insolent behaviour, although they found no more 
 than at first; but they took away the birding | 
 guns they had left before, and from Owthorpe 
 went to Nottingham, where they took one Capt. 
 Wright and Lieut. Franck, who had been Lam¬ 
 bert’s adjutant-general, and brought the poor men I 
 to Newark, where they are yet prisoners, and to this ■ 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE Oh COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 125 
 
 day know not why *. Several others were taken 
 prisoners, amongst the rest, one Whittington, a lieu- 
 tenant, who being carried to prison, “ Col. Hutchin¬ 
 son,” said he, 44 hath betrayed us all: ” such were 
 the base jealousies of our own party over him, who 
 because he was not hanged at first, imagined and 
 spoke among themselves all the scandals that 
 could be devised of him, as one that had deserted 
 the cause, and lay private here in the country 
 to trepan all the party, and to gather and transmit 
 all intelligence to the court, and a thousand such 
 things, giving each other warning to take heed of 
 coming near him. Those who began to render 
 him thus odious among his own party, were the 
 Lambertonians, in malice because he had openly 
 opposed their rebellious insolencies against the 
 parliament. Franck and Whittington, &c. were of • 
 these, but the colonel would not put himself in 
 hazard to rectify their unjust thoughts, and had 
 no resort of his own friends, the soberer and 
 honester men of the party ; only, as much as the 
 straits that were upon him would allow, when any 
 of them were in distress, would send them relief. 
 Hereupon, some convinced of the injuries they 
 did him, about this time sought to do him right, in 
 some meeting where one of the Buckingham’s 
 trepans was, and said he was unchanged in his 
 principles, which was all that ever I could hear 
 was informed against him, but anything would 
 serve for those who sought a pretence. 
 
 While the colonel was at Newark, Golding the 
 papist was a very busy fellow in spying and 
 watching his house at Owthorpe, and sending in 
 frivolous stories, which amounted to nothing, but 
 declaring his pitiful malice, as they that received 
 it after told the colonel. 
 
 When Tomson came back, Mr. Hutchinson, out 
 of the window, spied his own gun, which some of 
 the men brought in, and soon understood that this 
 rogue had made use of his own horse to plunder 
 him. At night Tomson the host came up into the 
 colonel’s chamber, and behaved himself most inso¬ 
 lently, whereupon the colonel snatched up a 
 candlestick and laid him over the chaps with it; 
 whereupon Mr. Leke being in the house, and 
 hearing the bustle, with others came in with drawn 
 swords, and the colonel took that opportunity to 
 tell him, that he stood upon his justification, and 
 desired to know his crime and his accusers, and 
 that till then he was content to be kept as safe as 
 they would have him, but desired to be delivered 
 out of the hands of that insolent fellow, and to 
 have accommodation fit for a gentleman ; which, 
 when they saw he would not be without, for he 
 would eat no more meat in that house, they 
 after two days removed him to the next inn, 
 where he was civilly treated, with guards still 
 ; remaining upon him. 
 
 It was not passion which made the colonel do 
 | this, for he was not at all angry, but despised all 
 I the malice of his enemies, but he having been 
 r now four days in Newai’k, Mr. Leke came every 
 ’ day to the house where he was kept by Leke’s 
 warrant, and never vouchsafed so much as to 
 look on him, but put him into the hands of a 
 drunken insolent host, who daily affronted him, 
 
 * This shows that the confinement of these persons lasted 
 still longer than Col. Hutchinson’s, and likewise that this 
 history was written while the events were still recent and 
 ' fresh in the memory. 
 
 which if he would have suffered, he saw would be 
 continued upon him, therefore knowing that Leke 
 was then in the house, he took that occasion to make 
 him come to him, and thereupon obtained a remove 
 to an accommodation more befitting a gentleman. 
 
 While he was at the other inn, several gentle¬ 
 men of the king’s party came to him, some whom 
 he had known, and some whom he had never seen, 
 complimenting him, as if he had not been a pri¬ 
 soner, which he very much admired at, and could 
 yet never understand, for by his former usage he 
 saw it was not their good-nature ; but whether 
 this carriage of his had made them believe inno- 
 ceiicy was the ground of his confidence, or whether 
 the appearance of his great spirit had made them 
 willing to oblige him, or whether even his virtue 
 had struck them with a guilty dread of him, 
 though a prisoner, certain it is, that some who 
 had been his greatest enemies, began to flatter 
 with him ; whereupon in a bible he carried in his 
 pocket, and marked upon all occasions, he marked 
 that place, Prov. xvi. 7. “ when a man’s ways 
 please the Lord, he maketh his enemies to be at 
 peace with him.” 
 
 The 1.9th of October, Mr. Leke, with a party 
 of horse, carried the colonel to the Marquis of 
 Newcastle’s, who treated him very honourably ; 
 and then falling into discourse with him, “ Colonel,” 
 saith he, “ they say you desire to know your ac¬ 
 cusers, which is more than I know.” And there¬ 
 upon very freely showed him the Duke of Buck¬ 
 ingham’s letter, commanding him to imprison the 
 colonel and others, upon suspicion of a plot, which 
 my lord was so fully satisfied the colonel was inno¬ 
 cent of, that he dismissed him without a guard to 
 his own house, only engaging him to stay there 
 one week, till he gave account to the council, upon 
 which he was confident of his liberty. The 
 colonel thus dismissed came home, and upon the 
 22d day of October, a party of horse, sent only 
 with a wretched corporal, came about 11 o’clock 
 with a warrant from Mr. Leke, and fetched him 
 back to Newark, to the inn where he was before. 
 Mr. Twentimans, who being still civil to him, 
 whispered him, as soon as he alighted, that it was 
 determined he should be close prisoner ; where¬ 
 upon the colonel said he would no more pay any 
 sentinels that they set upon him, yet they set two 
 hired soldiers, having now dismissed the county, 
 but the colonel forbade the inn to give them any 
 drink, or anything else upon his account. The 
 next day, being the 23d, Mr. Leke came to him 
 and showed him a letter from my Lord Newcastle, 
 wherein my lord wrote that he was sorry he 
 could not pursue that kindness he intended the 
 colonel, believing him innocent, for that he had re¬ 
 ceived a command from Buckingham to keep him 
 close prisoner, without pen, ink, or paper ; and to 
 show the reality of this, with the order he sent a 
 copy of the duke’s letter, which was also showed 
 the colonel; and in it was this expression, u that 
 though he could not make it out as yet , he hoped he 
 should bring Mr. Hutchinson into the plot.” Mr. 
 Leke having communicated these orders to Mr. 
 Hutchinson, told him he was to go to London, and 
 should leave him in the charge of the mayor of 
 Newark. 
 
 Because here is so much noise of a plot, it is 
 necessary to tell what it hath since appeared 
 The Duke of Buckingham set to work one Gore, | 
 
 I 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 sheriff of Yorkshire, and others, who sent out 
 trepanners among the discontented people, to stir 
 them to insurrection to restore the old parliament, 
 gospel ministry, and English liberty, which spe¬ 
 cious things found very many ready to entertain 
 them, and abundance of simple people were caught 
 in the net; whereof some lost their lives, and 
 others fled. But the colonel had no hand in it, 
 holding himself obliged at that time to be quiet. 
 It is true he still suspected insurrections of the 
 papists, and had secured his house and his yards, 
 better than it was the winter before, against any 
 sudden night assaults. 
 
 After Mr. Leke was gone, the mayor, one 
 Herring, of Newark, a rich, but simple fellow, 
 sent the jailer to Mr. Hutchinson, to tell him he 
 must go to liis house; which the colonel refusing 
 to do voluntarily, without a mittimus from some 
 magistrate, the mayor sent five constables and 
 two soldiers, who, by violence, both forced the 
 colonel out of his quarters, and into the jail with¬ 
 out any legal commitment, although the colonel 
 warned both the jailor and the men of the danger 
 of the law, by this illegal imprisonment. The 
 colonel would not advance at all into the prison, 
 into which the men would fain have intreated 
 him; but when they saw they could not persuade, 
 they violently thrust him in, where the jailor 
 afterwards used him pretty civilly: but the room 
 being unfit for him, he got cold and fell very sick, 
 when, upon the 27th of October, Mr. Leke, with 
 the marquis’s secretary, came to him, and found 
 him so, and acquainted him, that the marquis had 
 received express orders from the king, to send 
 him up in safe custody to London; Mr. Leke find¬ 
 ing him so ill, was so civil as to permit him to go by 
 his own house, which was as near a road, that he 
 might there take accommodations for his journey, 
 and be carried up at more ease in his own coach, 
 Mr. Leke himself, being necessitated to make 
 more haste than he could have done if he had 
 stayed for the party that was to guard the colonel, 
 went away before, and left his orders for sending 
 him away with Mr. Atkinson, who first seized 
 him. The same 27th day, at night, his house at 
 Owthorpe was again searched, and he and his 
 wife being abroad, all their boxes and cabinets 
 broken open, and all their papers rifled, but yet 
 for all this they could find nothing to colour their 
 injustice to him. 
 
 Having been falsely and illegally imprisoned, 
 from six of the clock on Friday night, the 23rd 
 of October, till ten of the clock in the morning, 
 October the 28th, he was then, in order to his 
 going to London, brought by Beek the jailer to 
 Twentimans’, the inn, from whence he was haled, 
 to stay there till a commanded party of the county 
 horse came to guard him to London. But one 
 division of the county who had warrants sent 
 them, not coming in, Atkinson sent into that part 
 where the colonel lived, and his own neighbours 
 coming slowly and unwillingly to that service, he 
 was forced to stay there all that day till night, in 
 the custody of the jailor. At night, when he was 
 in bed, the mayor, being drunk, commanded him 
 to be carried back to the jail, but the jailer, weary 
 of his drunken commands, sat up with two soldiers, 
 and guarded him in the inn. 
 
 The next day the party not being come in, a 
 mean fellow, that was appointed to command the 
 
 colonel’s guard, one Corporal Wilson, came and 
 told him that he must not go by his own house, 
 nor have the privilege of his coach, but be carried 
 up another way; whereupon the colonel sent to 
 Atkinson to desire him he might not be denied 
 that civility Mr. Leke had allowed him; but, he 
 was so peevish and obstinate, that the colonel was 
 sending his son post to the Marquis of Newcastle’s 
 to complain of his malicious inhumanity, who 
 would have foi’ced him on horseback without any 
 accommodation, when he was so ill that he could 
 not have ridden one stage without manifest hazard 
 of his life : and yet Mr. Cecil Cooper and Mr. 
 Whally, though justices and deputy-lieutenants, 
 could not prevail with him, till he saw the colonel 
 as resolute as himself: and then at last, by their 
 mediation (wherein Mr. Cecil Cooper did some¬ 
 thing redeem his former causeless hatred, which 
 made him plunder the house, and detain the 
 plunder when it was ordered back), the colonel, 
 about sunset, was sent out of Newark, with those 
 horse that were come in, to stay for the rest at 
 his own house. Being driven in the night by an 
 unskilful coachman, the coach was overturned and 
 broken; but about twelve of the clock at night 
 they came safe home. Thus the colonel took his 
 last leave of Newark, which being a place he had 
 formerly subdued, and replete with so many mali¬ 
 cious enemies to the whole party, and more parti¬ 
 cularly to him, upon no other account but that he 
 had been the most formidable protector of the 
 other party in this country, he expected far worse 
 treatment from the generality of the town; who 
 were so far from joining in joy of his captivity, 
 that when he was forced through their streets 
 they gave him very civil respect, and when he 
 came away civil farewells, and all muttered ex¬ 
 ceedingly at their mayor, and said he would undo 
 their town by such simple illegal proceedings. 
 The colonel regarded all these civilities from the 
 town, who were generally much concerned in his 
 injuries, and from Cooper and others, not as of 
 themselves, but as from God, who at that time 
 overawed the hearts of his enemies, as once he 
 did Laban’s and Esau’s, and was much confirmed 
 in the favour of God thereby, and nothing at all 
 daunted at the malice of his prosecutors, but went 
 as cheerfully into captivity as another would have 
 come out of it. 
 
 They were forced to stay a day at Owthorpe, 
 for the mending of the coach and coming in of 
 the soldiers, where the colonel had the opportunity 
 to take leave of' his poor labourers, who wept all 
 bitterly when he paid them off; but he comforted 
 them and smiled, and without any regret went 
 away from his bitterly weeping children, and ser¬ 
 vants, and tenants, his wife and his eldest son and 
 daughter going with him, upon Saturday, the 31st 
 of October. 
 
 Golding, the night before he went, had sent 
 him a pot of marmalade to eat in the coach, and 
 a letter to desire all grudges might be forgotten, 
 and high flattering stuff, by his man that was to 
 be one of the guard, which he said he had chosen 
 out of the best he had, and his best horse, and if 
 he did not pay him all respect he would turn him 
 away ; and as the colonel came by his door, came 
 out with wine, and would fain have brought him 
 into the house to eat oysters, but the colonel only 
 drank with him, and bade him friendly farewell, 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 127 
 
 and went on, not guarded as a prisoner, but waited 
 on by his neighbours. Mrs. Hutchinson was ex¬ 
 ceedingly sad, but he encouraged and kindly chid 
 her out of it, and told her it would blemish his 
 innocence for her to appear afflicted, and told her 
 if she had but patience to wait the event, she 
 would see it all for the best, and bade her be 
 thankful for the mercy that she was permitted 
 this comfort to accompany him in the journey, 
 and with divers excellent exhortations cheered 
 her, who was not wholly abandoned to sorrow 
 while he was with her, who, to divert her, made 
 himself sport with his guards, and deceived the 
 way, till, upon the 3rd of November, he was 
 brought to the Crown, in Holbcrn. From thence, 
 the next day, he was carried by Mr. Leke to the 
 Tower, and committed * there close prisoner, by 
 warrant, signed by Secretary Bennet*, the 20th 
 of October, whereby he stood committed for 
 treasonable practices, though he had never yet 
 been examined by any magistrate, one or other. 
 
 ! His wife, by his command, restrained herself as 
 | much as she could from showing her sadness, 
 j whom he bade to remember how often he had 
 ! told her that God never preserved him so extra- 
 j ordinarily at first, but for some great work he 
 i had further for him to do or to suffer in this 
 cause, and bade her be thankful for the mercy by 
 j which they had so long in peace enjoyed one 
 another since this eminent change, and bade her 
 | trust God with him; whose faith and cheerfulness 
 ! were so encouraging, that it a little upheld her; 
 
 ' but, alas! her divining heart was not to be com- 
 | forted: she remembered what had been told her 
 j of the cruel resolutions taken against him, and saw 
 I now the execution of them. 
 
 | *“ On Friday, Nov. the 6th, he was sent for by 
 j Secretary Bennet, to his lodgings at Whitehall, 
 j which was the first time he was examined, and 
 I the questions he asked him were :—] st. “ Where 
 i he had lived this four or five months ? ” To which 
 he answered, “ Constantly at home, at his own 
 | house in Nottinghamshire.” 2nd. “ What com- 
 | pany used to resort to his house ? ” He told him, 
 “ None, not so much as his nearest relations, who 
 scarce ever saw him.” 3rd. “ What company he 
 j frequented ? ” He told him, “ None, and that he 
 ij never stirred out of his own house to visit any.” 
 j Bennett said, “ That was very much.” 4th. 
 j ‘‘Whether he knew Mr. Henry Nevill?” He 
 i answered, “ Very well.” 5th. “ When he saw 
 - him ? ” He said, “ To his best remembrance, 
 never since the king came in.” 6th. “ When he 
 writ to him?” He said, “Never in his life?” 
 7th. “When Mr. Nevill writ to him?” He said, 
 “ Never.” 8th. “ Whether any messages had 
 passed between them?” He said, “ None at all.” 
 9th. “ Whether none had moved anything to him 
 concerning a republic ? ’•’ He said, “ He knew 
 none so indiscreet.” 10th. “ What children he 
 had?” He said, “Four sons and four daughters.” 
 
 | 11th. “How old his sons were?” He said, “Two 
 were at men’s estate, and two little children.” 
 12th. “ Whether his sons had not done anything 
 to injure him?” He replied, “Never that he 
 knew of, and he was confident they had not.” 
 13th. “Where he went to church to hear divine 
 servi ce, common prayer ?” He said, “ No where, 
 
 * Sir Harry Bennet, afterwards created Earl of Ar¬ 
 lington. 
 
 for he never stirred out of his own house.” 14th. 
 “Whether he heard it not read there?” He 
 answered, “To speak ingenuously, No.” 15th. 
 “How he then did for his soul’s comfort?” He 
 replied, “Sir, I hope you leave me that to account 
 between God and my own soul.” Then Bennet 
 told him his answers to these had cut him off of 
 many questions he should have asked, and he 
 might return. So he was carried back to the 
 Tower with only two of the warders which brought 
 him thither. 
 
 Not long after one Waters was brought prisoner 
 out of Yorkshire, a fellow of a timorous spirit, 
 who being taken, was in so great a fear, that he 
 accused many guilty and not guilty, to save him¬ 
 self ; caused his own wife to be put in prison and 
 hanged the dearest friend he had in the world, 
 and brought his wife’s brother into the same 
 danger ; some say through fear, others that he 
 was a trepanner from the beginning, for he drew 
 in all the people whom he accused. Whatever 
 he were, he was so utter a stranger to Col. Hutch¬ 
 inson, that he never saw his face ; yet that day 
 he was examined at Whitehall, Col. Hutchinson 
 was in great haste fetched away from his dinner 
 at the Tower, and told he should be examined in 
 the king’s own hearing, which he was very glad 
 of, and, with great haste and formality and strict¬ 
 ness he was carried by the deputy-lieutenant and 
 a strong guard by water from the Tower to White¬ 
 hall ; and when he came to land at Whitehall 
 stairs, one Andrews an officer, with two files of 
 musketeers, was ready to receive him, and led 
 him to Bennet’s lodgings, where he observed a 
 great deal of care to place the guard at the out¬ 
 ward door in the court, and to keep the chamber 
 door continually shut, that none might peep in, 
 but a few gentlemen who were admitted to come 
 now and then and stare him in the face at the 
 door, but none were in the room for a long space 
 but Andrews and himself, till at the last his keeper 
 thrust in. The colonel, having staid two hours, 
 concluded that he should now be confronted by 
 some accuser, or at least have an examination 
 more tending to treasonable practices than his 
 first seemed to do, especially understanding that 
 Mr. Waters had been many hours before in the 
 house, and was yet there. But at last, parturiunt 
 montes ! and out comes Secretary Bennet! who 
 taking him to a window apart from Mr, Andrews 
 and the keeper, most formally begins thus : “ Mr. 
 Hutchinson, you have now been some days in 
 prison, have you recollected yourself any more to 
 say than when I last spoke to you ?” Mr. Hutch¬ 
 inson answered, “ He had nothing to recollect, 
 nor more to say.” “ Are you sure of that ?” said 
 the secretary. “Very sure,” said Mr. Hutch¬ 
 inson. “ Then,” said Bennet, “ you must return 
 to prison.” And accordingly he was carried by 
 the same guard back again to the Tower, where 
 he was kept with a great deal of strictness, and 
 some weeks before his wife was admitted to see 
 him ; for whom, at the last, Sir Allen Apsley pro¬ 
 cured an order that she might visit him, but they 
 limited it that it must not be but in the presence 
 of his keeper. The lieutenant, in hope of a fee, 
 gave leave that her son and daughter might go 
 into the room with her, who else must have stood 
 without doors ; but he would not permit her to 
 take lodgings in the Tower, which, being in a | 
 
 I 
 
128 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 sharp winter season, put her to great toil and 
 inconvenience, besides excessive charge of provid¬ 
 ing his meat at the Tower, and her company 
 in another place : meanwhile he was kept close 
 prisoner, and had no air allowed him, but a pair 
 of leads over his chamber, which were so high 
 and cold he had no benefit by them ; and every 
 night he had three doors shut upon him, and a 
 sentinel at the outmost. His chamber was a room 
 where ’tis said the two young princes, King Edward 
 the Fifth and his brother, were murdered in former 
 days, and the room that led to it was a dark great 
 room, that had no window in it, where the port¬ 
 cullis to one of the inward Tower gates was drawn 
 up and let down, under which there sat every 
 night a court of guard. There is a tradition, that 
 in this room the Duke of Clarence was drowned 
 in a butt of malmsey ; from which murder, this 
 room and that joining it where Mr. Hutchinson 
 lay, was called the Bloody Tower. Between Mr. 
 Hutchinson’s chamber and the dark room there 
 was a door, which Mr. Hutchinson desired the 
 lieutenant might be left open in the night, because 
 it left a little necessary house open to the chamber, 
 which he and his man had occasion of in the night, 
 having gotten fluxes with their bad accommoda¬ 
 tions and diet: but the lieutenant would not allow 
 it him, although, when that was open, there were 
 two doors more shut upon him, and he could not 
 have any way attempted any escape, but he must, 
 if it had been possible to work through the walls, 
 have fallen upon a court of guard. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this strictness, which was 
 exercised also to most of the other prisoners, yet 
 their own sentinels hated the lieutenant, and his 
 Cerberus, Cresset, because they cheated them, and 
 had nothing of generosity or bounty to engage the 
 hearts of their soldiers, who, seeing so much of 
 their wickedness, abhorred them, and pitied the 
 poor gentlemen that were so barbarously used by 
 them ; and whether out of humanity, or necessity, 
 or villany, I know not, but they would offer the 
 prisoners many courtesies, and convey letters 
 between them. Mr. Hutchinson was never so 
 imprudent to trust any of them with his, having 
 within an hour of his imprisonment been instructed 
 by another prisoner a safer and more convenient 
 way ; yet was it their interest to use courteously 
 all those that offered themselves to do them ser¬ 
 vice. Among the rest, as he was one day sitting 
 by the fire, the sentinel at the door peeped in his 
 head and called to him : (t Sir,” said he, “ God 
 bless you ! I have sometimes guarded you in 
 another manner at the parliament-house, and am 
 grieved to see the change of your condition, and 
 only take this employment now, to be more able to 
 serve you, still hoping to see you restored to what I 
 have seen you.” The colonel not turning his head, 
 told the man that language suited not the coat he 
 wore, bade him mind his present duty, and told 
 him he had no employment of his service. “Well,” 
 said the soldier, u I perceive, Sir, you dare not 
 trust me, but my Lady Yane and my Lady Lam¬ 
 bert know me, and if you have any service to 
 command me to them, I will bring you a testimony 
 from them.” The colonel took no more notice of 
 him, but the fellow, officious, or hoping to get 
 money, went to my Lady Lambert’s house, and told 
 her that he had formerly been her husband’s sol¬ 
 dier and that he wished his restitution, and that 
 
 he used sometimes to guard the prisoners, and 
 would carry her letters to any of them, and that 
 he had been sentinel lately at Colonel Hutchin- I 
 son’s chamber, and would carry any thing she 
 would send to him. She only bade him remem- | 
 her her service to him, and tell him she wished I 
 him liberty ; and the fellow flattering her with 
 professing his love to her lord, she expressed some 
 pleasure with his speeches, and gave him some | 
 money ; which her daughter considering, as soon 
 as he was gone out told her that she had done 
 unwarily to open herself so much to one of the 
 soldiers in present employment, whom she did not 
 know but he might be set on purpose to trepan ! 
 her. My lady, to prevent any inconvenience of 
 her error, thought it the best way to go immedi¬ 
 ately and complain that one of the soldiers had come 
 to her to trepan her, under colour of a message from 
 Col. Hutchinson, which she had not entertained ; 
 and desired they might not be allowed in any such 
 thing, protesting her own loyalty and readiness to 
 discover any that were false to them. This was 
 extremely well represented of her at the court, 
 and as ill of Col. Hutchinson, that he had not done 
 the like ; and Col. Leg, whose company it was 
 that then had the guard of the Tower, was com¬ 
 manded to find out and punish this soldier, who, 
 it proved after, was a good honest fellow, and was 
 the only protestant in that company, the rest being 
 most of them Irish and papists, and some rebels. 
 This poor fellow, having been a parliament soldier, 
 listed among them to get a living, but was very 
 tender-hearted to the prisoners, and had a desire 
 to do them kindness. Hereupon he came to the 
 colonel’s man and desired his master would not 
 own him, and that he would send to my Lady 
 Lambert to do the same, which the colonel did : 
 but when she was sent to by him, she sent a maid 
 to see all the soldiers, who owned the man, and 
 he was put in prison, and cashiered and undone, 
 for nothing but offering his service to have done 
 the prisoners slight services ; and Col. Hutchinson 
 was ill thought of at the court, because when Col, 
 Leg brought his men under the window of his 
 prison, and came up to Mr. Hutchinson and 
 desired him to view them all, he would not 
 accuse any of them, which if he had he would not 
 only have cut off his own, but all the other pri¬ 
 soners’ways, of sending to their friends abroad; 
 yet he never made use of this fellow, nor any of 
 them, in any business of trust, although he thought 
 it not good to discourage any that appeared to 
 wish them well, among so many bloody murderers 
 as they were given up to. 
 
 The colonel endured his prison patiently till the 
 trial of those they called conspirators in Yorkshire 
 was over ; but when he had lain from November 
 till Candlemas term in prison, he sent his wife to 
 Secretary Bennet to desire that such persons as 
 had business with him might have the liberty to 
 come to him. She had before been with some of 
 the private council who were her husband’s friends 
 and allies, to complain of his unjust imprisonment, 
 and his harsh usage there, contrary to all law, 
 from the beginning to the ending, even their own 
 laws, and they had told her that they were sen¬ 
 sible of it, but that they only stood for ciphers, 
 while the chancellor and Bennet managed all 
 things without their privity, in most oppressive and 
 illegal ways. She, as she was advised, went there- 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 120 
 
 fore to Bennet and told him that, by reason of 
 some engagements for money her husband had 
 upon his estate, this very close imprisonment had 
 been infinitely prejudicial to him, both his tenants 
 and his creditors taking advantages of his incapa¬ 
 city, by reason of his close restraint, to defend 
 himself, or to speak with lawyers or others about 
 affairs that nearly concerned his estate ; besides 
 the neglect of all his business, and the intolera¬ 
 ble charge and inconvenience of his disordered 
 family, dispersed into three several places, which 
 would suddenly bring ruin upon his whole family, 
 besides the destruction of his health. Bennet told 
 her, her husband was a very unfortunate person 
 in regard of his former crimes. She told him, she 
 had rather hoped he had been happy in being com¬ 
 prised in the act of oblivion, which allowed him 
 not to be remembered as a criminal, and that she 
 had chosen to make her addresses to him in this 
 occasion, because some of the counsel had told her 
 the king left all the management of these things 
 to him. He was very urgent with her to know 
 who it was that informed her that he was the sole 
 actor in these businesses ; but she desired to be 
 excused for naming any author in that thing, 
 which she had not mentioned but that she thought 
 it his honour to own : but he told her, he would 
 not move for any more liberty for her husband 
 than he had, unless he could be secured it might 
 be done with more safety to his majesty than he 
 could apprehend it. “ But,” said he, “ Mrs. Hut¬ 
 chinson, I have some papers of yours which I 
 would show, not to examine you, but to see whe¬ 
 ther you will inform me anything of them.” She 
 told him she had curiosity enough to see anything 
 that passed under her name ; whereupon he called 
 forth his man, who brought out a great bundle of 
 papers, called examinations, taken at Grantham, 
 of passages between Mrs. Hutchinson and Mrs. 
 Vane. First he showed her a character which 
 contained ciphers for the names of many gentle¬ 
 men and women who were not very distant neigh¬ 
 bours, with others whom she knew not at all. She 
 told him she understood nothing at all of that paper; 
 then he turned down the rest, and showed her a 
 letter, beginning, “ My dear Amaranta ; ” which 
 she told him she knew not at all. “ But,” said he, 
 “you will yet own your own hand ;” and showed 
 her among these papers the copy of the letter 
 that was sent to the house of parliament in her 
 husband’s name, written in her hand, which when 
 she saw she was a little confounded, wondering 
 how it should come into his hands ; but she told 
 him that she could not absolutely say that was her 
 writing, though it had some resemblance ; and so 
 when she had again urged the business she came 
 for, and could obtain nothing from him, she went 
 away, and left in the room with the secretary Sir 
 Robert Biron, a cousin-german of her husband’s, 
 who was by chance come in thither upon some 
 business of his own, and had stood by while she 
 urged to the secretary the mischief and ruin her 
 husband’s imprisonment brought upon his family 
 and estate. As soon as she was gone, the secretary 
 told Sir Robert that he had heard Mrs. Hutchin¬ 
 son relate the sad condition of her husband and 
 his house ; a and,” said he, “ you may here take 
 notice how the justice of God pursues those mur¬ 
 derers, that, though the king pardoned both his 
 life and estate, by the hand of the divine justice. 
 
 they were now like to come to ruin for that crime;” 
 which words being told Mr. Hutchinson, he laughed 
 much at the simple folly of the man, that could 
 call his own illegal persecutions and oppressions 
 of innocence the judgments of God. The papers 
 which he showed Mrs. Hutchinson she after learnt 
 to have been some letters between Mrs. Vane, one of 
 Sir Henry Vane’s daughters, and one Mrs. Hutch¬ 
 inson, a gentlewoman that used to come thither, 
 filled with such frivolous intelligence of private 
 amours and intrigues as young people use to com¬ 
 municate to their confidants, and such as any wise 
 statesman would have believed himself affronted 
 to have had brought to him, and not made such 
 politic inquiries, and imprisoned those with whom 
 they were found, about so unconcerning a matter. 
 
 Mr. Henry Nevill and Mr. Salloway had been 
 put into the Tower about the same suspicion they 
 fiad of Mr. Hutchinson, a northern plot, for which 
 there was a peculiar assizes, and some men were 
 executed ; and the judges, at their return, said 
 that their confessions almost amounted to treason; 
 but that almost served their turns. As soon as 
 those assizes were past, Mr. Hutchinson sent to 
 Mr. Nevill and Mr. Salloway that he thought it 
 now time for them to endeavour their liberty, and 
 therefore desired to know what course they in¬ 
 tended to proceed in, that they might all take one 
 way. They both sent Mr. Hutchinson word that 
 they looked upon him as the best befriended, and 
 they were resolved to see first what success he 
 had, and to make him their leading card. Here¬ 
 upon he, fearful to do anything that they could 
 not, sat still deliberating, while they, without giving 
 him the least notice, wrought their own liberties 
 secretly, Mr. Nevill desiring to travel, and Mr. 
 Salloway making such a false, flattering petition, 
 that no honest man could make such another, and 
 a less after his would have but more exasperated. 
 
 It took so, that immediately he had his liberty, 
 both of them taking some oaths to confirm their 
 loyalty, which were given them by the clerk of 
 the Tower. They had a mind at court Mr. Hutch¬ 
 inson should have made such another petition, 
 and therefore Salloway’s was showed to a friend 
 of his ; the words of which were, “ That since God 
 by his miraculous providence had set his majesty 
 over us, he had acquiesced thankfully under it, 
 and never, not so much as in thought, made a 
 wish against it ;” and promises of the like nature: 
 which perhaps were no truer than the professions, 
 for they were utterly false ; for at his first coming 
 into the Tower no man had muttered more than 
 he, who scarce refrained even blasphemies against 
 God himself for bringing him into bondage. After 
 his release he went to their common prayer, and 
 pleased them so well that ’twas said they would 
 give him an office. But when they found that, 
 notwithstanding their hint, Mr. Hutchinson would 
 not follow his example, their malice grew very 
 bitter against him at the court, insomuch that a 
 gentleman having treated with Mrs. Hutchinson 
 for a niece of his, to whom he was guardian, that j 
 would have been a convenient fortune for her son, 
 the chancellor sent for the gentleman and peremp- ' 
 torily forbade him to proceed in the affair, and 
 openly said, “he must keep their family down.” 
 
 Mr. Hutchinson was not at all dismayed, but won¬ 
 derfully pleased witli all these things, and told his 
 wife this captivity was the happiest release in the 
 
 K 
 
,•,0 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 world to him ; for before, although he had made 
 no express engagement, yet, in regard his life and ’ 
 estate had been freely left him, when they took i 
 away others, he thought himself obliged to sit still ; 
 all the while this king reigned, whatever opportu- : 
 nity he might have ; but now he thought this 
 usage had utterly disobliged him from all ties 
 either of honour or conscience, and that he was 
 free to act as prudence should hereafter lead 
 him, and that he thought not his liberty out of 
 prison worth the purchase by any future engage¬ 
 ment, which would again fetter him in obligations 
 to such persons as every day more and more mani¬ 
 fested themselves enemies to all just and godly 
 interests. He therefore charged his wife that she 
 should not make applications to any person what¬ 
 soever, and made it his earnest request to Sir 
 Allen Apsley to let him stand and fall by his own 
 innocency, and to undertake nothing for him, 
 which, if he did, he told him he would disown. 
 Mrs. Hutchinson, remembering how much she had 
 displeased him in saving him before, submitted 
 now to suffer with him, according to his own will, 
 who, as he would do nothing that might entangle 
 him lor his freedom, so he patiently suffered their 
 unjust bondage, and had no guilt found in him, 
 yet was cruelly and maliciously persecuted and 
 hated ; and criminals, with threats and promises, 
 were tried all ways to see if they could have 
 brought out any accusation against him, but all 
 they could arrive to was only that he was an 
 unchanged person : yet they kept him still as close 
 prisoner as at the first. After Salloway was 
 released, Sir Allen Apsley asking the chancellor 
 why his brother was not as well let out as Sal¬ 
 loway ; “ What,” said the chancellor, “make you 
 no difference between your brother and Salloway ?” 
 Sir Allen replied, he thought his brother as inno¬ 
 cent. “ Surely,” said the chancellor, “ there is a 
 great difference : Salloway conforms to the go¬ 
 vernment, and goes to church, but your brother is 
 the most unchanged person of the party.” 
 
 The colonel at last with some other prisoners 
 were deliberating to sue out a habeas corpus, and 
 in order thereunto sent to the lieutenant of the 
 Tower to desire a copy of the warrant whereby he 
 stood committed, which indeed was so imperfect, 
 that he could not legally be kept upon that, for 
 there was neither his Christian name nor any 
 
 1 place of residence mentioned in it, so that any 
 other Hutchinson might have as well been kept 
 upon it as he ; but the lieutenant refused to give 
 him a copy, and his jailer told the prisoner it was 
 altered, after they had kept him four or five months 
 in prison : then the colonel wrote to Bennet, but 
 neither could he obtain any copy of his commit¬ 
 ment from him. 
 
 After this a friend gave him notice that they 
 had a design to transport him to some island or 
 plantation ; whereupon he wrote a narrative of his 
 imprisonment, and procured it to be secretly 
 printed, to have left behind him, if he had been 
 sent away, to acquaint the parliament, which was 
 then shortly to assemble, and to leave with his 
 friends; but he kept them in the mean time pri¬ 
 vately. 
 
 At length, through the lies that the lieutenant 
 of the Tower made of his prisoners, and the malice of 
 their wicked persecutors, who envied even the bread 
 which charity sent in to feed some of the mei: 
 
 whose estates were wholly taken away, warrants 
 were signed for carrying away most of the pri¬ 
 soners, some to Tangier, and to other barbarous 
 and distant places : among the rest Col. Hutchin¬ 
 son was designed to the Isle of Man, which Sir 
 
 Allen Apsley hearing of, told the king he had some 
 private business of trusts with the colonel con¬ 
 cerning his own estate, for which he obtained that 
 he might be respited three months, and have 
 liberty for lawyers to come to him. But when the 
 colonel heard of it, he was more displeased with 
 this petty favour than with all their rigour, and 
 resolved to have done something to reverse it, but 
 that his wife persuaded him to rest till she made 
 a short voyage into the country to fetch him sup¬ 
 plies, which he did. . 
 
 As soon as she was gone, the lieutenant ol the 
 Tower sent his jailor, Mr. Edward Cresset, early 
 in the morning, upon the 16th day of April, 1664, 
 to fetch Mr. Hutchinson to his lodgings, whither 
 being come, Cresset withdrew, and the lieutenant 
 told Mr. Hutchinson that he had been civil to him 
 in permitting his children to come to him with 
 their mother, and yet he had not paid him his 
 fees and dues, although that warrant which allowed 
 the access of his wife did not mention his children, 
 and therefore he now demanded his dues. Mr. 
 Hutchinson told him, “At his departure out of 
 the Tower he should not be behindhand with him 
 for the civility of suffering his children to come to 
 him.” Robinson replied, “ That signified nothing, 
 he expected his dues, and would have them. 
 
 Mr. Hutchinson answered, “ His was not every 
 prisoner’s condition, for he had been now twenty- 
 four weeks kept close prisoner, and yet never 
 knew accuser nor accusation against him, and 
 therefore he should desire to consider before lie 
 parted from his money ; but for any civilities he 
 should repay them.” Robinson said, “ He meddled 
 with no man’s crimes, but, whether guilty or not 
 guilty, he expected his dues, which he could re¬ 
 cover by law if they were refused.” Mr. Hutch¬ 
 inson asking, “ What they were?” He said, « Fifty 
 pounds.” Further demanding, « By what law they 
 were due, so as he could recover them ? Robin¬ 
 son answered, “By custom.” Mr. Hutchinson 
 told him, “ He was confident that pretence would 
 not recover them ; and if lie thought it would, 
 he would go to a civil and fair trial with lnm the 
 next term ; yet due or not due, what civilities he 
 either had or should afford him, he would recom¬ 
 pense at parting.” Robinson answered, “ He stood 
 upon his right, and he would make Mr. Hutchin¬ 
 son or somebody else pay it.” Mr. Hutchinson 
 told him, “ He knew not who he meant by some¬ 
 body else, but if his liberty were taken from him 
 without any reason that he knew, he would not so 
 part with his money, if he could help it. He 
 
 then, in anger, said, “He would lock him up 
 close, and let nobody come at him.” Mr. Hutch¬ 
 inson told him, « He could be locked no closer 
 than he had been all this time, and he hoped he 
 would not forbid those coming to him who had 
 , warrant from the secretary; for the rest, he might 
 
 . use his pleasure.” He, in fury, commanded to 
 
 take away Mr. Hutchinson, and lock him up that 
 ; no person might come at him ; and gave order at 
 f the Tower gates to keep out his children and all 
 l his relations that should come to inquire for him ; 
 l and he sent word to Sergeant Fountaine, who had 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 131 
 
 an order to come in, that he should not be ad¬ 
 mitted, although his business was of great concern¬ 
 ment to others, and not to Col. Hutchinson, who 
 being a trustee for some of his relations, was to 
 have made some settlements in their affairs ; 
 which could not be done, but they, to their preju¬ 
 dice, were forced to go without it. Although his 
 commands were executed to the full, yet Mr. 
 Hutchinson’s eldest son found means to steal into 
 the Tower, and to inform his father of a malicious 
 lie that the lieutenant had made of him at court, 
 that day that he fell out with him ; which was 
 this.—Robinson told the king, that when Mr. 
 Henningham and others were carried out of the 
 Tower to be shipped away, Mr. Hutchinson look¬ 
 ing out of his window bade them take courage, 
 they should yet have a day for it. This lie' coming 
 to Mr. Hutchinson’s knowledge the 19th of April, 
 moved him more than all his other base usage ; 
 whereupon he wrote a letter to Robinson to tell 
 him he should have had a care of provoking his 
 prisoners to speak, who had so much exposed him¬ 
 self to every one of them ; and to let him know 
 what he himself had observed and could prove, he 
 drew it up into certain heads, which he told 
 him, if he continued his vile usage of him, he 
 would publish. The articles were: 
 
 1st. That Robinson had affirmed that the king 
 gave no allowance to his prisoners, not so much as 
 to those who had all their estates taken from them : 
 and accordingly he gave them none, but converted 
 what the king allowed to his own use, and threatened 
 some of the prisoners with death if they offered to 
 demand it ; and suffered others, at twelve of the 
 clock in the night, to make such a miserable out¬ 
 cry for bread, that it was heard into some parts of 
 the city, and one was absolutely starved to death 
 for want of relief ; although the king at that time 
 told a prisoner, that he took more care for the 
 prisoners than for his own table. 
 
 2nd. That he set down to the king seven pounds 
 a week for one prisoner, for whom he never laid 
 out above twenty-seven or thirty shillings a week 
 at the most. 
 
 3rd. That he not only kept back the prisoners’ 
 allowances, but exacted of them excessive rents 
 for bare prison lodgings, and empty warders’ 
 houses unfurnished ; and if they have not punctu¬ 
 ally paid him, hath stifled them up by close im¬ 
 prisonment, without any order, although he knew 
 they had not a penny to buy bread, but what came 
 from the charity of good people. 
 
 4th. That he received salary of the king for 
 forty warders, and had not near so many, but 
 filled up the list with false names, and took the 
 pay to himself. 
 
 5th. That when he had received money for 
 those warders he kept, he had detained it many 
 months to his own use, while the poor men were 
 thereby in miserable wants. 
 
 6th. That he sold the warders’ places, and let 
 them houses at a dear rate, and yet took the most 
 considerable prisoners, which ought to have been 
 committed to them, into his own house, and made 
 them pay him excessive rates for bed-rooms, and 
 set his man Cressett, over them, making them pay 
 him for attendance, what the warders should 
 have had. 
 
 7th. That he made many false musters in his 
 own company belonging to the Tower, and though he 
 
 had received the soldiers’ money, was run in arrears 
 to them five or six pounds a man ; at which they 
 cruelly murmured, because by this means their 
 maintenance was straitened, and their duty brought 
 more frequent upon them. 
 
 8th. That notwithstanding all his defrauding, 
 oppressive, and exacting ways of raising money, 
 he had ungratefully complained of the king’s 
 scanty recompense of his service. 
 
 9th. That after the starving of the poor pri¬ 
 soners and the miserable outcry, when shame 
 forced him to allow about a dozen poor tradesmen 
 ten shillings a-piece, though at that time he re¬ 
 ceived forty p of the king for each of them, he and 
 his man Cressett denied the king’s allowance, and 
 said it was his own charity. 
 
 10th. That he was frequently drunk, out of the 
 Tower till twelve, one, and two of the clock, and 
 threatened one of the warders, who came one 
 night to fetch him home, with Newgate, and spited 
 him ever after. 
 
 All these things being notoriously true, this 
 letter put him into a great rage, and no less dread 
 that the colonel, as he had threatened him, would 
 publish it; whereupon, as soon as these things 
 were laid to his charge, within ten days he paid 
 his soldiers 15 months pay of 22 due to them when 
 the letter was written, he having all that while 
 kept back eighteen pence a week out of every sol¬ 
 dier’s pay : and the soldiers understanding that 
 Col. Hutchinson’s observations of his fraud had 
 procured them this satisfaction, used to give him 
 thanks when they came to stand sentinels at his 
 door. 
 
 Presently after he received the letter, he went 
 to Sir Allen Apsley and complained to him that 
 the colonel had sent him a vile letter, but did not 
 show it Sir Allen, as he sent word to the colonel 
 he would ; whereupon Sir Allen Apsley sent Mr. 
 George Hutchinson with a letter to Sir John 
 Robinson, to tell him that if he would let him go 
 to his brother, he doubted not but he would be a 
 good means to persuade the colonel to pay him 
 fees, and to reconcile differences between them. 
 Sir John, upon the 21st of April, went along with 
 Mr. George Hutchinson to his brother, and at his 
 entrance, in a passion began to quarrel at the 
 colonel’s sour looks ; who told him, if he had 
 known they would not have pleased him, and had 
 had notice of his coming, he would have set them 
 in a glass for him. Then Robinson told him, in a 
 rage, he had written him a libel. Mr. Hutchinson 
 answered it was no libel, for he had set his name 
 to it, and it was truths, which if he put him to, he 
 could prove by sufficient testimonies. Whereupon 
 he fell into horrible railing and cruel language, but 
 by Mr. George Hutchinson’s interposition at length 
 all was pacified, and he was fairly going out of the 
 room with Mr. George Hutchinson, when his man 
 Cressett minding him that the colonel had a foul 
 copy of his letter, and had said he would send it 
 to Sir Allen, who had desired to see it ; Robinson 
 resolved to take that draught away from him ; but 
 the colonel foreseeing that, had sent copies of it j 
 long before out of the Tower, which Robinson’s 
 dull head not dreaming of came back and insolently 
 commanded the colonel to give him the first 
 draught of the letter. The colonel desired to be 
 excused, whereupon Robinson said he would have 
 his pockets searched, and accordingly bade Cressett 
 k 2 
 
132 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 feel in them. He, a little moved, took a bottle in 
 his hand, and bade Cressett forbear if he loved his 
 head, and told Sir John if he had any warrant to 
 search him from the king or council he would 
 submit to it, but otherwise he would not suffer it, 
 especially for a paper which was only of private 
 concernment between them ; for all this, when 
 Sir John saw that Cressett durst not approach the 
 colonel, he commanded one Wale, a warder, to 
 search his pockets, who coming with entreaties to 
 the colonel to permit it, he suffered him ; and then 
 the lieutenant caused a little dressing-box which 
 the colonel had to be opened, and took away all 
 the papers he found in it, among which there was 
 one wherein the colonel had written a verse out of 
 the 43d psalm (it was the first verse) to be joined 
 with a narrative of his imprisonment, that he had 
 provided to leave behind him for the satisfaction 
 of his friends. This paper Robinson carried to 
 court, and said, that by the deceitful and unjust 
 man the colonel intended the king, although the 
 application was of his own making. In the mean 
 time, while they were ransacking his box and 
 pockets Robinson fell a railing at the colonel, 
 giving him the base terms of Rebel and Murderer, 
 and such language as none could have learnt, but 
 such as had been conversant among the civil 
 society of Pickt-liatch, Turnbull-street, and Bil- 
 lings-gate, near which last place the hero had his 
 education. When the colonel patiently told him 
 he transgressed the act of oblivion, he said he 
 knew that well enough, and bade him sue out his 
 remedy ; then in fury and rage turned out the 
 colonel’s servant out of his chamber, who had been 
 locked up with him all the time of his imprison¬ 
 ment, and left him altogether unattended, which 
 having never been before in his whole life, put 
 him into a cold and a flux, with a feverish dis¬ 
 temper : but the greatness of his mind was not 
 broken by the feebleness of his constitution, nor 
 the barbarous inhumanity of his jailers, which he 
 received with disdain and laughed at them, but 
 lost not anger on them. 
 
 After these things, Mrs. Hutchinson coming 
 out of the country, was, by the lieutenant’s order, 
 denied to see her husband, but at her lodgings 
 found letters from him conveyed to her every day, 
 spite of all his guards ; and thereupon she wrote 
 to Robinson to desire to know whether the secre¬ 
 tary had countermanded her first order to see her 
 husband, or whether he denied obedience to it: 
 whereupon Robinson sent to her to come to him 
 the next day, but when she came he was gone 
 forth, and she was not admitted within the gates, 
 and thereupon she went back to her lodgings and 
 wrote him a smart letter, and sent him with it a 
 copy of her husband’s letter, which she told him 
 she would publish, and not suffer him to be mur¬ 
 dered to extort undue money from him. The next 
 day, being the Lord’s day, he sent one of the 
 warders to entreat her to come to her husband, 
 and the blood-hound Cressett met her at the gate, 
 and led her to her husband, and left her all the 
 day alone with him, which they had never before 
 done all the time of his prison ; and in the even¬ 
 ing Sir John Robinson sent for her, and partly 
 expostulated with her and partly flattered, and 
 told her her husband had been sent to the Isle of 
 Man, but that he in kindness had procured a better 
 place for him, and that he was not covetous, but 
 
 since her husband would not pay him fees, he 
 might use his pleasure, and she and his children 
 and relations might freely go to him. She received 
 this as befitted her, being in his hands, and know¬ 
 ing, that not good-nature, but fear she would have 
 printed him, moved him to this gentler course, as 
 she understood, both by the inquiries his servants 
 made of the colonel’s warder concerning her in¬ 
 tentions, and by Robinson’s continuing, notwith¬ 
 standing all this dissimulation, to make a thousand 
 false insinuations of the colonel everywhere, and 
 to do him all ill offices at court. If there were not 
 a more abominable wickedness than all this, a lin¬ 
 gering poison given him, which though we had not 
 wickedness enough to suspect then, the events that 
 have since ensued make a little doubtful. It is 
 certain that Cressett did make that attempt upon 
 Sir Henry Yane and others, and two or three days 
 before the colonel was sent away, brought into his 
 chamber, when he came to lock him up at night, 
 a bottle of excellent wine, under pretence of kind¬ 
 ness, which he, the colonel, and the warder drunk 
 together, and the warder and the colonel both 
 died within four months : the colonel presently 
 after falling sick, but very unsuspicious, and we 
 must leave it to the great day, when all crimes, 
 how secret soever, will be made manifest, whether 
 they added poison to all the other iniquity whereby 
 they certainly murdered this guiltless servant of 
 God. 
 
 A few days after, at nine of the clock at night, 
 after his wife was gone from him, Cressett brought 
 the colonel a warrant, to tell him that he must, 
 the next morning tide, go down to Sandown Cas¬ 
 tle, in Kent; which he was not surprised at, it 
 being the barbarous custom of that place to send 
 away the prisoners, when they had no knowledge, 
 nor time to accommodate themselves for their 
 journey; but instead of putting him into a boat 
 at the morning tide, about eight of the clock, Sir 
 Henry Wroth came with a party of horse to 
 receive him of the lieutenant, and finding him 
 sick, and not well able to endure riding in the 
 heat of the day, was so civil as to let him go by 
 water in the evening tide to Gravesend, with a 
 guard of soldiers in boats hired at his own charge, 
 where the horse guard met him. By these means 
 he got opportunity to take leave of his children 
 that were in town, and about four of the clock was 
 sent out of the Tower, with one Gregory, designed 
 to be his fellow-prisoner; who going over the 
 drawbridge, turned back to the lieutenant, and 
 told him he would have accepted it as a greater 
 mercy if the king had commanded him to be shot 
 to death there, rather than to send him to a distant 
 place to be starved, he having nothing but his trade 
 to maintain him, and his friends, from whom he 
 should now be so far removed that he could expect 
 nothing. The lieutenant in scorn told him, he 
 went with a charitable man that would not suffer 
 him to starve, whereby he exposed the malice of 
 their intentions to the colonel; who thought it not 
 enough to send him to a far prison not much dif¬ 
 fering from exile, but to charge him with a com¬ 
 panion, which however his kindness might have 
 rendered him charitable to, yet they ought not to 
 have put upon him, neither would the colonel 
 take notice of their imposition, though he designed 
 kindness to the man, had he been worthy of it. 
 
 The colonel’s wife and children got a boat and 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 133 
 
 followed him to Gravesend, whither also Gregory’s 
 wife, and one that called him brother, went; and 
 that night all the company and all the guards 
 supped at the colonel’s charge, and many of the 
 guards lay in the chamber with him, who, with 
 refreshment of the evening air, and the content 
 he took to be out of Robinson’s claws, found him¬ 
 self,. or through the liveliness of his spirit fancied 
 himself, something better then he was in the 
 Tower. The next morning very early, his guards 
 hurried him away on horseback; but, to speak 
 truth, they were civil to him. His son went along 
 with him to see the place he was sent to, and Sir 
 Allen Apsley had procured an order for his servant 
 to continue with him in the prison; his wife went 
 back to London, to stay there to provide him such 
 accommodation as she should hear he had need of. 
 
 When he came to the castle, he found it a 
 lamentable old ruined place, almost a mile distant 
 from the town, the rooms all out of repair, not 
 weather-free, no kind of accommodation either for 
 lodging or diet, or any conveniency of life. Before 
 he came, there were not above half-a-dozen sol¬ 
 diers in it, and a poor lieutenant with his wife 
 and children, and two or three cannoneers, and a 
 few guns almost dismounted, upon rotten carriages; 
 but at the colonel’s coming thither, a company of 
 foot more were sent from Dover to help guard the 
 place, pitiful weak fellows, half starved and eaten 
 up with vermin, whom the governor of Dover 
 cheated of half their pay and the other half they 
 spent in drink. These had no beds, but a nasty 
 court of guard, where a sutler lived, within a 
 partition made of boards, with his wife and family; 
 and this was all the accommodation the colonel 
 had for his victuals, which was bought at a dear 
 rate at the town, and most horribly dressed at the 
 sutler’s. For beds he was forced to send to an 
 inn in the town, and at a most unconscionable rate 
 hire three, for himself, and his man, and Capt. 
 Gregory, and to get his chamber glazed, which 
 was a thoroughfare room, that had five doors in 
 it, and one of them opened upon a platform, that 
 had nothing but the bleak air of the sea, which, 
 every tide, washed the foot of the castle walls; 
 which air made the chamber so unwholesome and 
 damp, that even in the summer time the colonel’s 
 hat-case and trunks, and everything of leather, 
 would be every day all covered over with mould,—- 
 wipe them as clean as you could one morning, by 
 the next they would be mouldy again; and though 
 the walls were four yards thick, yet it rained in 
 through cracks in them, and then one might sweep 
 a peck of saltpetre off of them every day, which 
 stood in a perpetual sweat upon them. Notwith¬ 
 standing all this, the colonel was very cheerful, 
 and made the best shifts he could with things as 
 he found them, when the lieutenant’s wife seeing 
 his stomach could not well bear his food, offered 
 to board him, and so he and his man dieted with 
 her for twenty shillings a-week, he finding wine 
 besides, and linen, &c. Whilst the sutler pro¬ 
 vided his meat, Gregory ate with him; but when 
 he tabled with the captain, Gregory’s son coming 
 to him, he had his meat from the town, and soon 
 after a woman came down who left not the man 
 destitute and comfortless. The worst part of the 
 colonel’s sufferings in this prison, was the company 
 of this fellow, who being a fellow-prisoner, and 
 poor, and the colonel having no particular retreat, I 
 
 he could not wholly decline his company; and he 
 being a carnal person, without any fear of God, or 
 any good, but rather scandalous conversation, he 
 could take no pleasure in him; meanwhile many 
 of his friends gave caution to his wife concerning 
 him, as suspecting him a trepanner, which we had 
 after some cause to fear. 
 
 The captain of the castle, one Freeman, had all 
 this while a chamber which was a little warmer, 
 and had a bed in it, but this he reserved, intend¬ 
 ing to set a rate upon it, and this too was so dark, 
 one could not have read by the fire or the bed¬ 
 side without a candle at noon-day. 
 
 When the colonel’s wife understood her hus¬ 
 band’s bad accommodation, she made all the 
 means she could by her friends to procure liberty 
 that she might be in the castle with him, but 
 that was absolutely denied; whereupon she and 
 her son and daughter went to Deal, and there 
 took lodgings, from whence they walked every 
 day on foot to dinner and back again at night, 
 with horrible toil and inconvenience, and procured 
 the captain’s wife to diet them with the colonel, 
 where they had meat good enough, but through 
 the poverty of the people, and their wants of all 
 necessaries, and the faculty to order things as 
 they should be, it was very inconvenient to them ; 
 yet the colonel endured it so cheerfully that he 
 was never more pleasant and contented in his 
 whole life. When no other recreations were left 
 him, he diverted himself with sorting and shadow¬ 
 ing cockle shells which his wife and daughter 
 gathered for him, with as much delight as he 
 used to take in the richest agates and onyxes he 
 eould compass with the most artificial engravings, 
 which were things, when he recreated himself 
 from more serious studies, he as much delighted 
 in as any piece of art. But his fancy showed 
 itself so excellent in sorting and dressing these 
 shells, that none of us could imitate it, and the 
 cockles began to be admired by several persons 
 that saw them. These were but his trifling diver¬ 
 sions, his business and continual study was the 
 Scripture, which the more he conversed in, the 
 more it delighted him; insomuch that his wife 
 having brought down some books to entertain 
 him in his solitude, he thanked her, and told her 
 that if he should continue as long as he lived in 
 prison, he would read nothing there but his Bible. 
 
 His wife bore all her own toils joyfully enough 
 for the love of him, but could not but be very sad 
 at the sight of his undeserved sufferings; and he 
 would very sweetly and kindly chide her for it, 
 and tell her that if she were but cheerful, he 
 should think this suffering the happiest thing that 
 ever befel him; he would also bid her consider 
 what reason she had to rejoice that the Lord 
 supported him, and how much more intolerable it 
 would have been if the Lord had suffered his 
 spirit to have sunk, or his patience to have been 
 lost under this. One day when she was weeping, 
 after he had said many things to comfort hex’, he 
 gave her reasons why she should hope and be 
 assured that this cause would revive, because the 
 interest of God was so much involved in it that he 
 was entitled to it. She told him she did not 
 doubt but the cause would revive, but, said she, 
 notwithstanding all your resolution, I know this 
 will conquer the weakness of your constitution, 
 I and you will die in prison. He replied, I think I 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 shall not, hut if I do, my blood will be so innocent, 
 
 I shall advance the cause more by my death, 
 hasting the vengeance of God upon my unjust 
 enemies, than I could do by all the actions of my 
 life. Another time, when she was telling him, 
 she feared they had placed him on the sea-shore 
 but in order to transport him to Tangier, he told 
 her, if they should, God was the same God at 
 Tangier as at Owthorpe; prithee, said he, trust 
 God with me, if he carry me away, he will bring 
 me back again. 
 
 Sometimes when he would not be persuaded to 
 do things wherein he had a liberty, for fear of 
 putting a snare and stumbling-block before others 
 that had not so, and she would expostulate with 
 him, why he should make himself a martyr for 
 people that had been so censorious of him, and so 
 unthankful and insensible of all his merits; he 
 would say, he did it not for them, but for the cause 
 they owned. When many ill usages of himself 
 by godly people have been urged to him, he 
 would say, that if they were truly the people of 
 God, all their failings were to be borne ; that if 
 God had a people in the land, as he was confident 
 he had, it was among them, and not among the 
 cavaliers, and therefore although he should ever 
 be severe against their miscarriages in any person 
 in whomsoever he found them, yet he would adhere 
 to them that owned God, how unkindly soever they 
 dealt with him. Sometimes he would say, that if 
 ever he should live to see the parliament power 
 up again, he would never meddle any more either 
 in councils or armies: and then sometimes again, 
 when he saw or heard of any of the debaucheries 
 of the times, he would say, he would act only as 
 a justice of the peace in the country, and be 
 severe against drunkards, and suffer none in his 
 neighbourhood. Oftentimes he would say, if ever 
 he were at liberty in the world, he would flee the 
 conversation of the cavaliers, and would write 
 upon his doors, 
 
 Procul hinc, procul este, profani! 
 and that, though he had, in his former conversa¬ 
 tion with them, never had any communication 
 with their manners nor vices, yet henceforth he 
 would never, in one kind or other, have any com¬ 
 merce at all with them ; and indeed it was a 
 resolution he would oftener repeat than any other 
 he had, telling us, that he was convinced there 
 was a serpentine seed in them. Yet he had many 
 apprehensions of the rash hot-headed spirits of 
 many of our party, and fears that their pride and 
 self-conceit of their own abilities, would again 
 bring us to confusion, if ever they should have 
 the reins again in their hands; and therefore he 
 would bid us advise his son, if ever we lived to 
 see a change, and would himself advise him not 
 to fall in with the first, how fair soever their 
 pretences were; but to wait to see how their 
 ractices suited them: fcr he would say, that a 
 ot-spirited people would first get up and put all 
 into confusion, and then a sober party must settle 
 things; and he would say, let my son stay to fall 
 in with these. He foresaw that the courses that 
 the king and his party took to establish themselves 
 would be their ruin, and would say, that whenever 
 the king had an army it would be his destruction. 
 Once when his wife was lamenting his condition, 
 having said many things to comfort her, he told 
 her he could not have been without this affliction, 
 
 for if he had flourished while all the people of 
 God were corrected, he should have feared he 
 had not been accounted among his children, as he 
 had not shared their lot. Then would he with 
 thankfulness repeat the kind and gentle dealings 
 of the Lord at all times toward him, and erect a 
 firm and mighty hope upon it, and wonderfully 
 encourage her to bear it patiently, not only by 
 words, but by his own admirable example. 
 
 After Mr. Hutchinson had been some time pri¬ 
 soner at Sandown, the governor of the castle came 
 over, and would fain have let him his chamber for 
 20«. a week, which Mr. Hutchinson told him he 
 would give him if his wife might come there to him; 
 but the governor refused that without an ex¬ 
 press order, which was endeavoured, but could not 
 be obtained. Then Freeman demanded a mark 
 a-week of the colonel for fees, but the colonel told 
 him, except he could show how it was due by any 
 known law, he would not pay it. Some time after 
 the governor of Dover came over with the governor 
 of Sandown and one Mr. Masters, and Freeman 
 consulting his master of Dover how he should get 
 money of the colonel, the governor of Dover ad¬ 
 vised to put him into a dungeon, but the fellow 
 durst not attempt it. Yet some time after he 
 came to the castle, and passing into his own cham¬ 
 ber through Mr. Hutchinson’s, who was there, as 
 he went by with his lieutenant Moyle at his heels, 
 he called out to Mr. Hutchinson’s man, and bade 
 him bid Hutchinson come to him, without any 
 addition of so much as the title of a gentleman. 
 Mrs. Hutchinson being then in the room with her 
 husband, desired him she might go in with him and 
 answer the captain’s insolency, and that he would 
 take no notice of it which he told her he would not, 
 neither should she, and so they went into the cap¬ 
 tain’s chamber, who had also called Gregory. When 
 they were both there, the captain turning to Moyle 
 said, “Captain Moyle, I ordain you to quarter Hut¬ 
 chinson and Gregory together in the next room, 
 and if Hutchinson will make a partition at his own 
 charge, he may have that part of the chamber 
 that has the chimney, and for this expect a mark 
 a-week of Hutchinson, and a noble of Gregory ; 
 and if they will have any enlargement besides, 
 they must pay for it *. ” Mr. Hutchinson laughed 
 at him, and bade his wife report his usage of him 
 to the secretary at London, to whom she presently 
 wrote an account of it, and sent it to Sir Allen 
 Apsley, desiring him either to procure a remove, 
 or an order for better accommodation, and showed 
 this letter to Gregory before it went, representing 
 equally his condition with her husband’s : and 
 seeing she could not get admission into the castle, 
 she took a house in the town, to which she in¬ 
 tended to bring her children for the winter, had 
 not God prevented. 
 
 Not long after, the colonel’s brother, Mr. George 
 Hutchinson, came down, and brought with him 
 an order signed by Secretary Bennet, to allow 
 the colonel leave to walk by the sea-s ide with a 
 
 * In speaking of the persons who had the command of 
 
 the castle, and custody of the prisoners, there seems in 
 some parts of the narrative to he a little perplexity; but 
 this passage shows clearly that Freeman was captain, but 
 did not reside at it; and that Moyle was his lieutenant, 
 and did reside at it. The former was the person who, on 
 this, and some other occasions, attempted to extort money 
 from Col. Hutchinson and his family ; the latter was the 
 person whose wife boarded and accommodated them. 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. ,135 
 
 keeper, which order Sir Allen Apsley and his lady 
 had at iength procured with some difficulty and 
 sent him : wherein he was so well satisfied, that 
 he thought not his prison now insupportable ; 
 neither indeed was it so to him before, for his 
 patience and faith wonderfully carried him on 
 under all his sufferings. As it now drew nigh to 
 the latter end of the year, Mrs. Hutchinson, 
 having prepared the house, was necessitated to go 
 to Owthorpe to fetch her children, and other sup¬ 
 plies to her husband ; whom when the time of her 
 departure came, she left with a very sad and ill- 
 presaging heart, rather dreading that while he lay 
 so ready on the sea-coast, he might some time or 
 other be shipped away to some barbarous place in 
 her absence, than that which after ensued. The 
 colonel comforted all he could, and that morning 
 she went away, “ Now,” said he, “ I myself begin 
 to be loath to part with thee.” But yet, according 
 to his usual cheerfulness, he encouraged himself 
 and her, and sent his son along with her. His 
 daughter and his brother staid at Deal ; who 
 coming to him every day, he walked out with them 
 by the sea-side, and would discourse of the public 
 concernments, and say that the ill management 
 of the state would cause discontented wild parties 
 to mutiny and rise against the present powers, but 
 they would only put things in confusion ; it must 
 be a sober party that must then arise and settle 
 them. He would often say to his son and his wife, 
 as he did now to his brother, “ Let not my son, 
 how fairly soever they pretend, too rashly engage 
 with the first, but stay to see what they make 
 good, and engage with those who are for settle¬ 
 ment, who will have need of men of interest to 
 assist them ; let him keep clear and take heed of 
 too rash attempts and he will be courted if he 
 behave himself piously and prudently, and keep 
 free of all faction, making the public interest only 
 his.” He would sometimes in discourse say, that 
 when these people once had an army up, which 
 they seemed to aim at, that army would be their 
 destruction, for he was very confident God would 
 bring them down : he would often say they could 
 not stand, and that whoever had anything to do 
 with them could not prosper. He once made this 
 expression : “ Although,” said he, “ I am free from 
 any trucking with them, yet even that consenting 
 submission that I had, hath brought this suffering 
 upon me.” And he would often say he would 
 never have so much as a civil correspondence with 
 any of them again : yet when he mentioned Sir 
 Allen Apsley, he would say, he would never serve 
 any that would not, for his sake, serve the person 
 that had preserved him. When his wife went 
 away he was exceeding well and cheerful, and so 
 confident of seeing Owthorpe, that he gave her 
 directions in a paper for planting trees, and many 
 other things belonging to the house and gardens. 
 “ You give me,” said she, “these orders, as if you 
 were to see that place again.” “ If I do not,” 
 said he, “ I thank God I can cheerfully forego 
 it, but I will not distrust that God will bring me 
 back again, and therefore I will take care to keep 
 it while I have it.” 
 
 The third of September, being Saturday, he had 
 been walking by the sea-side, and coming home 
 found himself agueish, with a kind of shivering 
 and pain in his bones, and went to bed and sweat 
 exceedingly ; the next day was a little better, and 
 
 went down, and on the Monday expecting another 
 fit, which came upon him, lay in bed all day, and 
 rose again, the next day, but went not down, and 
 after that he slept no more until his last sleep 
 came upon him, but continued in a feverish dis¬ 
 temper, with violent sweatings, after which he 
 used to rise out of his bed to refresh him, and 
 Avhen he was up used to read much in his Bible. 
 He had appointed his wife, when she went away, 
 to send him the Dutch Annotations on the Bible, 
 and she had sent it down with some other things ; 
 which he presently caused to be brought him, 
 though he was in his bed, and some places in the 
 Epistle to the Romans read, which having heard, 
 “ these annotators,” said he, “ are shortand then 
 looking over some notes upon that Epistle, which 
 his wife had left in a book she had gathered from 
 him; “ I have,” said he, “ discovered much more 
 of the mystery of truth in that Epistle, and when 
 my wife returns I will make her set it down; for,” 
 said he, “ I will no more observe their cross 
 humours, but when her children are near, I will 
 have her in my chamber with me, and they shall 
 not pluck her out of my. arms; and then, in the 
 winter nights, she shall collect several observa¬ 
 tions I have made of this Epistle since I came 
 into prison.” The continual study of the Scrip¬ 
 tures did infinitely ravish and fefine his soul, and 
 take it off from all lower exercise, and he continued 
 it in his sickness even to the last, desiring his 
 brother, when he was in bed and could not read 
 himself, to read it to him. He found himself every 
 day grow weaker, yet was not exceeding sick, only 
 he could not sleep at all, day or night. There was 
 a country physician at Deal, who had formerly 
 belonged to the army, and had some gifts, and 
 used to exercise them among godly people in their 
 meetings; but having.been taken there once by 
 the persecutors, and being married to a wicked 
 unquiet woman, she and the love of the world had 
 perverted him to forsake all religious meetings, 
 yet the man continued civil and fair-conditioned, 
 and was much employed thereabouts. He being 
 sent for to Mr. Hutchinson, found that on Friday 
 his mouth grew very sore, whereupon he told Mr. 
 George Hutchinson that he distrusted his own 
 skill in looking to it, and apprehended some danger, 
 and advised him to send for a very famous physi¬ 
 cian that was at Canterbury, which they did, and 
 he came on Saturday. As he came along he en¬ 
 quired of the messenger that fetched him, what 
 kind of person the colonel was, and how he had 
 lived and been accustomed, and which chamber of 
 the castle he was now lodged in ? Which, when 
 the man had told him, he said his journey would 
 be to no purpose, for that chamber had killed him. 
 Accordingly, when he came, he told the colonel’s 
 brothei’, on Saturday night, that he apprehended 
 danger, and appointed some remedies, and some 
 applications to his temples, and a cordial to procure 
 rest, but it had no effect. There was a nurse 
 watched in his chamber, and she told them after his 
 death, that she heard him pray in the night, with 
 the deepest sighs that ever she heard. The next 
 morning, before the doctor and his daughter, and 
 brother and servants came to him, the gentle¬ 
 woman of the castle came up and asked him how 
 he did ? He told her, incomparably well, and full 
 of faith. 
 
 Some time after, when the doctor came, he told 
 
1S6 
 
 MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 
 
 his brother that the fever had seized his head, and 
 that he believed he would soon fall into ravings 
 and die, and therefore wished him, if he had any 
 thing to say to him, to speak while he was in 
 perfect sense. So Mr. George Hutchinson came 
 to him, and told him he believed he could not live, 
 and therefore desired him, if he had anything to 
 do, to despatch it, for he believed his end was 
 approaching. The colonel, without the least dejec¬ 
 tion or amazement, replied, very composedly and 
 cheerfully, “ The will of the Lord be done, I am 
 ready for it.” And then he told them that he did 
 now confirm the will he wrote in the Tower for 
 his last will and testament, and all others to be 
 void. The doctor, who had, when religion was in 
 fashion, been a pretender to it, came to him, and 
 asked him if his peace was made with God; to 
 which he replied, “ I hope you do not think me so 
 ill a Christian, to have been thus long in prison, 
 and have that to do now!” The doctor asked 
 him concerning the ground of his hope ; to which 
 he answered , (( Thei’e is none but Christ, none but 
 Christ, in whom I have unspeakable joy, more 
 than I can express; yet I should utter more, but 
 that the soreness of my mouth makes it difficult 
 for me to speak.” Then they asked him where he 
 would be buried? He told them, in his vault at 
 Owthorpe; his brother told him it would be a long 
 way to carry him: he answered, “ Let my wife 
 order the manner of it as she will, only I would 
 lie there.” He left a kind message to his wife, 
 
 « Let her,” said he, “ as she is above other women, 
 show herself, in this occasion, a good Christian, 
 and above the pitch of ordinary women.”* He 
 commanded his daughter that was present to tell 
 the rest, that he would have them all guided by 
 her counsels; and left with his brother the same 
 message to his eldest son. « I would,” said he, 
 
 «have spoken to my wife and son, but it is not 
 the will of Godthen, as he was going to utter 
 something, “ here is none but friends; ” his brother 
 minded him the doctor was present; " 0, I thank 
 you,” said he; and such was their amazement in 
 their sorrow, that they did not think of speaking 
 to the doctor to retire, but lost what he would have 
 said, which I am confident was some advice to his 
 son how to demean himself in public concernments. 
 He lay all the day very sensible and very cheer¬ 
 ful, to the admiration of both the doctors and of 
 all that saw him; and as his daughter sat weeping 
 by him, « Fie, Bab,” said he, « do you mourn for 
 me as for one without hope? There is hope.” He 
 desired his brother to remember him to Sir Allen 
 Apsley, and tell him that he hoped God would 
 reward his labour of love to him. While he was 
 thus speaking to them, his spirits decayed exceed¬ 
 ingly fast, and his pulse grew very low, and his 
 head already was earth in the upper part; yet he 
 raised himself in his bed, « And now,” said he to 
 the doctor, « I would fain know your reason why 
 you fancy me dying; I feel nothing in myself, my 
 head is well, my heart is well, and I have no pain 
 nor sickness anywhere.” The doctor seeing this, 
 was amazed; « Sir,” said he, « I would be glad 
 to be deceivedand being at a stand, he told Mr. 
 
 * This is that command of her husband which Mrs. 
 Hutchinson speaks of at the beginning of her narrative, 
 where she says, she has determined to employ her thoughts 
 upon the preservation of his memory, not the fruitless 
 bewailing of it. 
 
 George Hutchinson he was surprised, and knew 
 not what to think, to see him so cheerful and un¬ 
 disturbed, when his pulse was gone ; which, if it 
 were not death, might be some strange working of 
 the spleen, and therefore advised him to send 
 away for Dr. Ridgely, which he would before have 
 done, but that the doctor told him he feared it 
 would be vain, and that he would be dead before 
 the doctor could come. While they were preparing 
 to write, the colonel spoke only these two words ; “ It 
 is as I would have it: ’tis where I would have it 
 and spoke no more, for convulsions wrought his 
 mouth, yet did his sense remain perfect to his 
 last breath; for when some named Mrs. Hutchin¬ 
 son, and said, “ Alas, how will she be surprised!” 
 he fetched a sigh, and within a little while de¬ 
 parted ; his countenance settling so amiably and 
 cheerful in death, that he looked after he was 
 dead as he used to do when best pleased in life. 
 It was observable that the same hour, and the 
 same day of the month, and the same day of the 
 week, that the wicked soldiers fetched him out of 
 his own rest and quiet condition at home, eleven 
 months before, the Lord of hosts sent his holy 
 angels to fetch him out of their cruel hands up to 
 his everlasting and blessed rest above ; this being 
 the Lord’s-day, about seven o’clock at night, the 
 eleventh day of September, 1664 ; that, the same 
 day and hour, the eleventh of October, 1663. 
 
 The two doctors, though mere strangers to 
 him, were so moved, that they both wept as if it 
 had been their brother; and he of Canterbury 
 said, he had been with many eminent persons, 
 but he never in his whole life saw any one receive 
 death with more Christian courage and constancy 
 of mind, and steadfastness of faith, than the colonel 
 had expressed from the first to the last; so that, 
 considering the height of his fever, and his want 
 of rest, there was an evidence of a Divine assist¬ 
 ance that overruled all the powers and operations 
 of nature. This doctor, who was called Dr. Jachin, 
 had most curiously and strictly observed all his 
 motions, I know not by what impulse, but he 
 after said, in regard of the colonel’s former 
 engagements, he knew he should be examined of 
 all circumstances, and therefore was resolved 
 diligently to observe them; and as he guessed it 
 after fell out, for the gentlemen of the country, 
 being of the royal party, were busy in their in¬ 
 quiries, which the doctor answered with such 
 truth and clearness as made them ready to burst 
 with envy at the peace and joy the Lord was 
 pleased to give his servant, in taking him out of 
 this wicked world. I am apt to think that it was 
 not alone tenderness of nature, but conviction of 
 their own disturbed peace, which drew those tears 
 from the doctors, when they saw in him that 
 blessed peace and joy which crowns the Lord’s 
 constant martyrs ; whatever it were, the men were 
 faithful in divulging the glory of the Lord’s won¬ 
 derful presence with his servant. 
 
 As soon as the colonel was dead his brother 
 sent away a messenger to carry the sad news to 
 his house, and caused his body to be embalmed 
 in order to his funeral, as he had thrice ordered. 
 When he was embowelled, all his inwards were 
 found exceeding sound, and no taint in any part, 
 only two or three purple spots on his lungs: his 
 gall, the doctor said, was the largest that ever he 
 saw in any man, and observed it to be a miracle 
 
MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON. 137 
 
 of grace that he had been so patient as he had 
 seen him. 
 
 Some two or three days before the colonel fell 
 sick, Freeman, the captain of the castle, had sent 
 down a very strict order that the colonel should 
 carry nothing out of the castle: in pursuance 
 of which the soldiers would not suffer them to 
 take out his beds and furniture, and clothes, 
 which Mr. Hutchinson forbore till an order came 
 for them. 
 
 As soon as the news came to Owthorpe, the 
 colonel’s two eldest sons and all his household 
 servants went up to London with his horses, and 
 made ready a hearse, tricked with escutcheons 
 and six horses in mourning, with a mourning 
 coach and six horses to wait on it, and came 
 down to Deal with an order from the secretary 
 for the body; but when they came thither the 
 Captain Freeman, in spite, would not deliver it, 
 because Mrs. Hutchinson herself was not come 
 to fetch it; so they were forced, at an intolerable 
 expense, to keep all this equipage at Deal while 
 they sent to the secretary for another order, 
 which they got directed to the lieutenant in the 
 absence of the captain, and as soon as it came 
 delivered it to him, who immediately suffered 
 them to take away the body, which they did at 
 that hour, though it was night, fearing a further 
 dispute with Freeman. For he, after the body 
 had been ten days embalmed, said he would 
 have a jury impannelled, and a coroner to sit 
 upon it, to see whether he died a natural death. 
 Mr. Hutchinson asked him why he urged that, 
 when it lay on their side to have sought satis¬ 
 faction. He said he must do it to clear the 
 king’s garrison. Mr. Hutchinson told him he 
 had slipped his time ; it should have been done 
 at the first, before the embalming. He said he 
 would have it unlapped, and accordingly he sent 
 for a coroner and a jury, who when they came 
 would not unlap the body, but called those persons 
 that were about him, and examined them as to 
 the occasion of his death. They made affidavit, 
 which remains yet upon record, that the doctor 
 said the place had killed him, and satisfied with 
 this, they did not unlap the body. As it came 
 into Deal, Freeman met it, and said, if he had 
 been in the castle they should not have had it till 
 
 they had paid the money he demanded ; which 
 when he could not justify any right to by any law,he 
 fell to beg most basely and unworthily, but neither 
 had anything given him for that. However, 
 though the secretary had also ordered the colonel 
 should have his things out, yet he detained all he 
 found in the castle, his trunks, and beds, and 
 furniture, which could never be gotten out of his 
 hands. Although this spite of his put the colonel’s 
 family to an excessive charge in staying so long 
 in that cut-throat town of Deal, yet there was a 
 providence of the Lord in it; for the colonel’s 
 daughter that was there through grief had con¬ 
 tracted a violent sickness, which took her with 
 great extremity, and wrought off of her stomach 
 in black vomits, that made her for the present 
 desperately ill, and the doctor that was with her 
 said that if she had been then in her journey, as 
 she would have been, had they not been delayed 
 by his cruel spite, she could not have lived. 
 
 The next day after they had gotten out the 
 body they brought it with a handsome private 
 equipage to Canterbury, and so forward towards 
 London, meeting no affronts in their way but at 
 one town, where there was a fair, and the priest 
 of the place came out with his clerk in his fool’s 
 coat, to offer them burial, and to stop their hearse, 
 laid hold on the horses, whom when the attendants 
 put by, the wicked rout at the fair took part with 
 them, and set upon the horsemen; but they broke 
 several of their heads, and made their way clear, 
 having beaten off all the town and the fair, and 
 came on to London. They passed through South¬ 
 wark, over the bridge, and through the whole 
 heart of the city, to their lodging in Holborn, in 
 the day time, and had not one reviling word or 
 indignity offered them all the way, but several 
 people were very much moved at that Sad witness 
 of the murderous cruelty of the men then in 
 power. 
 
 From London he was brought down to Owthorpe, 
 very seriously bewailed all the way he came along 
 by all those who had been better acquainted with 
 his worth than the strangers among whom he 
 died, and was brought home with honour to his 
 grave through the dominions of his murderers, 
 who were ashamed of his glories, which all their 
 tyrannies could not extinguish with his life. 
 
^Inscriptions 
 
 ON 
 
 THE MONUMENT OF COLONEL HUTCHINSON, 
 
 AT OWTHORPE, IN NOTTINGHAMSHIRE. 
 
 t SUPPOSED BV MRS. HUTCHINSON.) 
 
 Quousque Domine ! 
 
 IN a VAULT UNDER THIS WALL LIETH THE BODY OF 
 
 JOHN HUTCHINSON, 
 
 OF OWTHORPE, IN THE COUNTY OF NOTTINGHAM, ESQ. 
 
 ELDEST SON AND HEIR OF SIR THOMAS HUTCHINSON BY HIS 
 FIRST WIFE, THE LADY MARGARET, DAUGHTER OF 
 SIR JOHN BIRON, OF NEWSTEAD, 
 
 IN THE SAID COUNTY. 
 
 This monument doth not commemorate 
 Vain airy glorious titles, birth, and state; 
 
 But sacred is to free, illustrious grace, 
 
 Conducting happily a mortal’s race ; 
 
 To end in triumph over death and hell, 
 
 When, like the prophet’s cloak, the frail flesh fell. 
 Forsaken as a dull impediment, 
 
 Whilst love’s swift fiery chariot climbed th’ ascent. 
 Nor are the reliques lost, but only torn, 
 
 To be new made, and in more lustre worn. 
 
 Full of this joy he mounted, he lay down, 
 
 Threw off his ashes, and took up his crown. 
 
 Those who lost all their splendour in hia grave, 
 Ev’n there yet no inglorious period have. 
 
 He married Lucy, the daughter of Sir Allen Apsley, lieu¬ 
 tenant of the Tower of London, by his third wife, the 
 Lady Lucy, daughter of Sir John St. John, of Lidiard 
 Tregos, in the county of Wilts, who dying at Owthorpe, 
 October 11, 1659, lieth buried in the same vault. 
 
 He left surviving by the said Lucy four sons: Thomas, who 
 married Jane, the daughter of Sir Alexander Radcliffe, 
 buried in the same vault: and Edward, Lucius, and 
 John: and four daughters; Barbara, Lucy, Margaret, 
 and Adeliza; which last lies buried in the same vault. 
 
 He died at Sandowno Castle, in Kent, after eleven monihs 
 harsh and strict imprisonment,—without crime or accu¬ 
 sation,—-upon the 11th day of Sept. 1664, in the 49th 
 year of his age, full of joy, in assured hope of a glorious 
 resurrection. 
 
VERSES WRITTEN BY MRS. HUTCHINSON. 
 
 AND 
 
 IN THE SMALL BOOK CONTAINING HER OWN LIFE, 
 
 MOST PRQBABLV COMPOSED BY HER DURING HER HUSBAND’S RETIREMENT FROM PUBLIC BUSINESS 
 TO HIS SEAT AT OWTHORPE. 
 
 All sorts of men through various labours press 
 To the same end, contented quietness ; 
 
 Great princes vex their labouring thoughts to be 
 Possessed of an unbounded sovereignty ; 
 
 The hardy soldier doth all toils sustain 
 That he may conquer first, and after reign ; 
 
 The industrious merchant ploughs the angry seas. 
 That he may bring home wealth, and live at ease, 
 Which none of them attain ; for sweet repose 
 But seldom to the'splendid palace goes; 
 
 A troop of restless passions wander there, 
 
 And private lives are only free from care. 
 
 Bleep to the cottage bringeth happy nights, 
 
 But to the court, hung round with flaring lights, 
 Which the office of the vanish’d day supply, 
 
 His image only comes to close the eye. 
 
 But gives the troubled mind no ease of care; 
 While country slumbers undisturbed are; 
 
 Where if the active fancy dreams present, 
 
 They bring no horrors to the innocent. 
 
 Ambition doth incessantly aspire, 
 
 And each advance leads on to new desire; 
 
 Nor yet can riches av’rice satisfy, 
 
 For want and wealth together multiply : 
 
 Nor can voluptuous men more fulness find. 
 
 For enjoy’d pleasures leave their stings behind. 
 He’s only rich who knows no want ; he reigns 
 Whose will no severe tyranny constrains; 
 
 And he alone possesseth true delight 
 Whose spotless soul no guilty fears affright. 
 
 This freedom in the country life is found, 
 
 Where innocence and safe delights abound: 
 
 Here man’s a prince; his subjects ne'er repine 
 When on his back their wealthy fleeces shine. 
 
 If for his appetite the fattest die, 
 
 Those who survive will raise no mutiny : 
 
 His table is with home-got dainties crown’d, 
 
 With friends, not flatterers, encompassed round! 
 
 No spies nor traitors on his trencher wait, 
 
 Nor is his mirth confined to rules of state; 
 
 An armed guard he neither hath nor needs, 
 
 Nor fears a poisoned morsel when he feeds ; 
 
 Bright constellations hang above his head. 
 
 Beneath his feet are flow’ry carpets spread ; 
 
 The merry birds delight him with their songs, 
 
 And healthful air his happy life prolongs. 
 
 At harvest merrily his flocks he shears, 
 
 And in cold weather their warm fleeces wear3; 
 
 Unto his ease he fashions all his clothes; 
 
 His cup with uninfected liquor flows: 
 
 The vulgar breath doth not his thoughts elate. 
 
 Nor can he be o’erwhelmed by their hate; 
 
 Yet, if ambitiously he seeks for fame, 
 
 One village feast shall gain a greater name 
 Than his who wears the imperial diadem. 
 
 Whom the rude multitude do still condemn. 
 
 Sweet peace and joy his bless’d companions are ; 
 Fear, sorrow, envy, lust, revenge, and care, 
 
 And all that troop which breeds the world’s offence. 
 With pomp and majesty, are banished thence. 
 What court then can such liberty afford ? 
 
 Or where is man so uncontrolled a lord ? 
 
Lithomo* 
 Pamph^ 
 Binder® 
 Gaylord Bi™ 
 Makers 
 
 Syracuse, N. 
 PAT. IAN 21. 1908 
 
 
 
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