Of which we furnish a view from the pencil of Mr. Blore, is situated in
the parish of Etton, in Northamptonshire, about four miles from the city
of Peterborough. This building well deserves notice as an early and
perfect specimen of English domestic architecture. The form of the
windows is peculiar to the time of the first two Edwards, and the
character of the mouldings evidently points out that period, as the date
of its erection. The masonry is remarkably well executed, and the
mouldings beautifully worked; those forming the finish of the Tower,
over the entrance, are distinguished by a boldness rarely to be met
with. Originally, this must have been a place of some strength; it was
surrounded by water, excepting at the western approach, and the walls
are four feet in thickness. Though nothing remains of an embattled
parapet, there can be little doubt but that it possessed such provision
for defence, and that in this, as in other respects, it partook of the
character of the mansion-houses of the age.
The round bastion at the north end, represented in the drawing, is that
portion of the building to which an interesting historical incident is
attached; one of those events, which are the melancholy, and certain
fruits of anarchy and civil war.
Dr. Michael Hudson, who is styled by Wood, “an understanding and sober
person, and of great fidelity,” was, from his sincerity, called by King
Charles the First, his “plain-dealing Chaplain.” When the troubles of
that period commenced, Hudson, like some others of his profession, left
his benefice, under an impression that his monarch demanded his personal
aid; and King Charles having, as we are told, “an especial respect for
his signal loyalty and courage,” intrusted him with some important
secrets, as regarded his own proceedings. Hudson proved himself a
courageous soldier, but, being apprehended by the Parliamentary forces,
he suffered a tedious confinement. Escaping from his prison in London,
he joined a body of royalists, who had fled to Woodcroft House. When
attacked there by the Parliamentary forces, Hudson, with some of his
bravest soldiers, went up to the battlements, where they defended
themselves for some time. At length they yielded, upon the promise of
quarter; but when the rebels were admitted, they broke their engagement.
Hudson was forced over the battlements, and clung to one of the stone
spouts represented in the drawing. His hands being either actually cut
off, or severely hacked and bruised by the sabres of the soldiers, he
quitted his hold and fell into the moat underneath, desiring only to
reach the land and die there; but this miserable boon was denied him,
as, in attempting to reach the bank, he was knocked on the head with the
but-end of a musket, and drowned[2].
May we never, by God’s blessing, witness a recurrence of the scenes
which were presented at this eventful period of our history! Our great
dramatic poet, who showed his patriotism, by always giving to his
countrymen the wisest counsel, and encouraging correct sentiments
respecting justice and good government, thus beautifully describes a
kingdom, restored to the blessings of internal tranquillity.
No more shall trenching war channel her fields,
Nor bruise her flow’rets with the armed hoofs
Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes,
Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven,
_All of one nature, of one substance bred_,
Did lately meet in the intestine shock
And furious close of civil butchery,
Shall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks,
March all one way; and be no more oppos’d
_Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies_;
The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,
No more shall cut his master.—_Henry IV._, Part I.
H. M.