Fortunately there is one object associated with the early life of “Oliver, Lord Protector,” which the rude hand of a modern Vandal has not been able to desecrate or even touch. The Grammar School remains uninjured even by time; it stands
in the centre of the Town, opposite to All-Saints Church;[35] and in its interior as well as exterior seems to have undergone very little change since Oliver’s master, Dr. Beard, flogged him there—as tradition saith he did—for dreaming that “he saw a gigantic figure come to his bedside, and tell him he should be greater than a King;” and where, not long afterwards—it is said, on the same authority—while acting the part of “Tactus” in the play of “Lingua,” it was his business to “stumble at a crown and regalia,” and to repeat the lines commencing—
“Was ever man so fortunate as I,
To break his shins at such a stumbling-block.”
The ancient and venerable school-room, retaining, as it does, so much of its primitive character, is an object of intense interest; the thick walls, with their latticed windows, seem utterly unchanged; the very desks, heavy with ink blotches, and the deeply-carved names of hundreds of heedless urchins, may have been—possibly are—the very desks at which young Oliver sate, when “now a hard student for a week or two, and then a truant or otioso for twice as many months.”
In this town, which he afterwards represented in Parliament, he passed not only his boyhood, but the years of his prime; selling, in 1631, the small remnant of his property there, and removing to St. Ives, whence, on the death of his maternal uncle, Sir Thomas Steward, he removed, in 1636, to the Isle of Ely. It was at Huntingdon, however, he made his first essays in the cause of Freedom. Here, in 1639, he met the King’s Commissioners, who were working injustice towards those who had reclaimed the Fens; here he argued with and confuted them; boldly confronting the Crown-partisans, and thwarting the measures of the Court; so that thenceforward, until he achieved a higher title, he obtained the popular appellation of “Lord of the Fens.”
During his greatness, his native town seems to have seen very little of him; his fate was perhaps that of prophets generally, who “have no honour in their own country.” It is on record, however, that one day marching through it, he met in the main street a reverend divine, by whom his life had been saved from drowning when a boy. On reminding the clergyman of the fact, “the general” received for answer, “Yes, I well remember it, and wish I had put you in, rather than see you thus in arms against your King.”[36]
Hinchinbrook House is scarcely less intimately connected with Oliver’s early history, than is Huntingdon town; independently, therefore, of its intrinsic value, its associations
are of surpassing interest; and it is surrounded by very valuable remains of antiquity—the ancient borough of Godmanchester[37] being especially rich in relics of very olden times. The reader will perhaps consider we have done well in procuring a copy of one of them—the old Court-House—the speedy removal of which is one of the “threats” of the age. Causes tried “in open court” is a phrase familiar to all; but in ancient times, the courts were literally “open”—not to suitors alone, but to wind and weather. That at Godmanchester continued “open” until the passing of the Reform Bill. It stands in the middle of the highway where two roads meet, and is a venerable building of timber and plaster, having upon its front the date 1679; probably that of its latest alteration or reparation—for some portions of the building are certainly much older. It is inclosed in a small court-yard by a mud wall; and remained perfectly “open” up to the memorable year 1832, when for the comfort and convenience of a