DURING the journey, which appears to have lasted four or five days, Dr. Taylor was greatly sustained in his soul, and was happy and cheerful. He also often addressed those who accompanied him, earnestly exhorting them to repent and to turn to the Lord, insomuch that they were greatly moved, and they could but wonder to see him so constant, fearless, and joyful, more like one who was going to a banquet or bridal than to a fiery death at the stake. While they halted for a day or two at a place called Lavenham, a great number of gentlemen waited on him, to endeavor to induce him to recant, being authorized to promise him pardon and promotion, even a bishopric, if he would accept it; but all their labor was in vain, for he continued immovable to the end. When he had arrived within two miles of Hadleigh, “Well, master doctor,” quoth the sheriff, “how do you do now?” “God be praised,” he answered, “well, never better; for now I know I am almost at home. I have but, as it were, a stile or two to go over, and I am even at my Father’s house. But, master sheriff,” said he, “shall we not go through Hadleigh?” “Yes,” said the sheriff, “you shall go through Hadleigh.” “Then,” said he, “Oh, good Lord! I thank Thee I shall yet once more, ere I die, see the people whom Thou, Lord, knowest I have most heartily loved and truly taught. Good Lord, bless them and, keep them steadfast in Thy Word and truth.”
When they were come to Hadleigh, on the bridge over which they passed waited a poor man with five children, who, when he saw Dr. Taylor, fell upon his knees, and cried with a loud voice, “Oh, dear father and true pastor, God help and succor thee, as thou hast many a time succored me and my poor children.” The streets were lined with men and women, both from the town and the country around, who, with sorrowful voices, exclaimed, “Ah! there goeth our dear pastor from us, who hath so faithfully taught us, so fatherly hath cared for us, and so godly hath guided us. Oh, merciful God! what shall we poor scattered lambs do? Strengthen him and comfort him.” On passing by the almshouses, he cast what money he had to the poor people who dwelt there, and coming to the last house, and not seeing those who had resided there at the door, as the others were, he asked, “Are the blind man and woman alive?” And, on being answered that they were within the house, he put the residue of his money into his glove, and threw it into the window, and then rode forth.
On Aldham Common, where he was to die, a great number of people were gathered, who gave many earnest expressions of their love and esteem for him. When he had stripped himself for the stake, he said with a loud voice, “Good people, I have taught you nothing but God’s holy Word, and I am come this day to seal it with my blood.” Upon which one of the yeomen of the guard gave him a heavy stroke with a cudgel. He then knelt down and prayed, and a poor woman who was among the crowd stepped in and joined with him, but they thrust her away, and threatened to tread her down with horses, Notwithstanding, she would not remove, but remained until his prayer was ended. He was then bound with chains, and the sheriff called one Richard Doningham, a butcher, and commanded him to set up fagots, but he refused, and said, excusing himself, “I am lame, sir, and not able to lift a faggot.” The sheriff threatened to send him to prison, but the man still refused. At last some of the worst characters in the place set up the fagots, and kindled the fire; upon which Dr. Taylor, holding up both his hands, called upon God, and said, “Merciful Father, for Jesus Christ, my Saviour’s sake, receive my soul into Thy hands.” Being then struck on the head with a halberd, his sufferings were soon terminated, and his corpse fell down into the fire and was consumed. A stone on Aldham Common lately marked, and perhaps does still, the place where he suffered. These words were rudely engraved on it: ― “1555. D. Tayler, in defending that was good, at this plas left his blode.” A more finished monument was erected there in 1818.
“Few now are call’d to face the flame,
Or lie in loathsome den,
For owning Christ’s most precious name,
As were the faithful then.
But though we live in peaceful days,
May we confess Him, to His praise,
Before ungodly men;
Constrain’d by His prevailing love
To own Him as our Lord above.”