iumph, she
feared that if he escaped death on the battle-field, it would only be
to suffer imprisonment and the confiscation of his estate.

At last, in 1644, the Earl of Newcastle sent a messenger to Colonel
Hutchinson calling upon him to surrender Nottingham Castle to the
Royalists, a demand that was promptly refused. 'If his lordship would
have that poor castle,' the colonel said to the messenger, 'he must
wade to it in blood.'

The messenger departed, and Colonel Hutchinson made preparations to
withstand a siege. Greatly to his surprise, however, the attempt on
the castle was not made, the Earl of Newcastle having been compelled to
march his forces to the assistance of Royalists in another part of the
country.

Before long, however, the citizens of Nottingham veered round to the
Royalist party, and decided to betray the town. One night they
secretly admitted 600 Cavaliers, commanded by Colonel Hutchinson's
cousin, Sir Richard Byron, and before daybreak the town was in their
hands. But not the castle. With only eighty men, Colonel Hutchinson
determined to hold it against the enemy until not a man remained alive.
His force should have been much larger, but many of his men had on the
previous evening quitted the castle without permission and entered the
town. While enjoying themselves the Cavaliers arrived and made them
prisoners.

Among the Parliamentarians who were taken prisoners in Nottingham were
the surgeons, and the defenders of the castle entered into the fight
with the unpleasant belief that if they were wounded there would be no
one to attend to their wounds.

They were mistaken. When the battle had been raging for some minutes,
and the wounded defenders were being removed from further danger, Lucy
Hutchinson came forward, and skilfully and tenderly dressed their
wounds. For five days, attending to the wounded was her chief duty,
and many a poor fellow's life was saved by her promptitude and skill.

One day, while resting from her labours, she saw three Royalists being
led away to the dungeon. They were wounded, and had been captured in
the latest assault on the castle. Seeing that they were wounded, Lucy
Hutchinson at once dressed their injuries, and while thus employed one
of her husband's officers angrily upbraided her for having pity on
them, concluding with the assertion that 'his soul abhorred to see this
favour to the enemies of God.'

'I've done nothing but my duty,' she replied. '