N20568:5079
The new and complete book of martyrs; or, An universal history of martyrdom: being Fox's Book of martyrs, revised and corrected, with additions and great improvements. : Containing an authentic account of the lives, persecutions and sufferings of the holy martyrs; and the many dreadful persecutions against the Church of Christ in all parts of the world, by pagans, Jews, Turks, papists, and others, from earliest ages of the church to the present period. ... The whole forming at once a general Christian martyrology, and a complete history of persecutions. / By the Rev. Mr. John Fox, M.A. late of Magdalen College, Oxford. ; Now revised, corrected and improved, with many additional articles, relating to the acts and monuments of the church. By Paul Wright, D.D. ; Embellished with forty elegant copper plate engravings. ; In two volumes. Vol. I[-II].The new and complete book of martyrs; or, An universal history of martyrdom: being Fox's Book of marytrs, revised and corrected, with additions and great improvements. : Containing an authentic account of the lives, persecutions and sufferings of the holy martyrs; and the many dreadful persecutions against the Church of Christ in all parts of the world, by pagans, Jews, Turks, papists, and others, from earliest ages of the church to the present period. ... The whole forming at once a general Christian martyrology, and a complete history of persecutions. / By the Rev. Mr. John Fox, M.A. late of Magdalen College, Oxford. ; Now revised, corrected and improved, with many additional articles, relating to the acts and monuments of the church. By Paul Wright, D.D. ; Embellished with forty elegant copper plate engravings. ; In two volumes. Vol. I[-II].
New-York: printed by William Durell, 1794
Title page typeset from the transcription.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
"IN thee, O Lord, have I trusted, let me never be confounded." Psal. xxxi.1.
ON the morning after Dr. Taylor had supped with his wife in the Compter, which was the fifth day of February, the sheriff of London with his officers came by two o'clock, and brought forth Dr. Taylor, and without any light led him to the Woolpack, an inn without Aldgate. Dr. Taylor's wife, suspecting that her husband would that night be carried away, watched all night in St. Botolph's church-porch without Aldgate, having with her two children, the one named Elizabeth, of thirteen years of age, (who being left without father or mother, Dr. Taylor had charitably brought up from three years old) the other named Mary, Dr. Taylor's own daughter.
WHEN the sheriff and his company came against St. Botolph's church, Elizabeth cried, saying, O my dear father! mother, mother, here is my father led away. Then his wife said, Rowland, Rowland, where art thou? For it was a very dark morning, that the one could not see the other. Dr. Taylor answered, Dear wife, I am here, and stopped. The sheriff's men would have led him forth; but the sheriff said, Stay a little, masters, I pray you, and let him speak to his wife, and so they staid.
THEN she came to him, and he took his daughter Mary-in his arms; and he, his wife, and Elizabeth, kneeled down and said the Lord's prayer. At which sight the sheriff wept much, and so did several others of the company. After they had prayed, he rose up and kissed his wife, and shook her by the hand, and said, Farewell, my dear wife, be of good comfort, for I am quiet in my conscience. God shall stir up a father for my children. And then he kissed his daughter Mary, and said, God bless thee, and make thee his servant: and kissing Elizabeth, he said, God bless thee. I pray you all stand strong and steadfast unto Christ and his word, and beware of idolatry. Then said his wife, God be with thee, dear Rowland, I will with God's grace meet thee at Hadley.
THEN she came to him, and he took his daughter Mary-in his arms; and he, his wife, and Elizabeth, kneeled down and said the Lord's prayer. At which sight the sheriff wept much, and so did several others of the company. After they had prayed, he rose up and kissed his wife, and shook her by the hand, and said, Farewel, my dear wife, be of good comfort, for I am quiet in my conscience. God shall stir up a father for my children. And then he kissed his daughter Mary, and said, God bless thee, and make thee his servant: and kissing Elizabeth, he said, God bless thee. I pray you all stand strong and stedfast unto Christ and his word, and beware of idolatry. Then said his wife, God be with thee, dear Rowland, I will with God's grace meet thee at Hadley.
AND so he was led forth to the Woolpack, and his wife followed him. As soon as they came to the Woolpack, he was put into a chamber, wherein he was kept with four yeomen of the guard, and the sheriff's men. Dr. Taylor, as soon as he was come into the chamber, fell down on his knees, and gave himself wholly to prayer. The sheriff then seeing Dr. Taylor's wife there, would in no case grant her to speak any more with her husband, but gently desired her to go to his house and take it as her own, and promised her she should lack nothing, and sent two officers to conduct her hither. Notwithstanding, she desired to go to her mother's, whither the officers led her, and charged her mother to keep her there till they came again.
DR. TAYLOR remained at the Woolpack, kept by the sheriff and his company, till eleven of the clock; at which time the sheriff of Essex was ready to receive him: and they set him on horseback within the inn, the gates being shut.
AT coming out of the gates, John Hull stood at the rails with Thomas, Dr. Taylor's son. When Dr. Taylor saw them, he called them, saying, Come hither, my son Thomas. And John Hull lifted the child up, and set him on the horse before his father: and Dr. Taylor put off his hat, and said to the people that stood there looking on him, Good people, this is mine own son, begotten of my body in lawful matrimony; and God be blessed for lawful matrimony. Then he lifted up his eyes towards heaven and prayed for his son, laid his hat upon his head and blessed him, and so delivered the child to John Hull, whom he took by the hand and said, Farewell John Hull, the faithfullest servant ever man had. And so they rode forth, the sheriff of Essex, with four yeoman of the guard, and the sheriff's men leading them.
AT coming out of the gates, John Hull stood at the rails with Thomas, Dr. Taylor's son. When Dr. Taylor saw them, he called them, saying, Come hither, my son Thomas. And John Hull lifted the child up, and set him on the horse before his father: and Dr. Taylor put off his hat, and said to the people that stood there looking on him, Good people, this is mine own son, begotten of my body in lawful matrimony; and God be blessed for lawful matrimony. Then he lifted up his eyes towards heaven and prayed for his son, laid his hat upon his head and blessed him, and so delivered the child to John Hull, whom he took by the hand and said, Farewel John Hull, the faithfullest servant ever man had. And so they rode forth, the sheriff of Essex, with four yeoman of the guard, and the sheriff's men leading them.
WHEN they were come almost to Burntwood, one Arthur Faysy, a man of Hadley, who formerly had been Dr. Taylor's servant, met with them, and he, supposing him to have been at liberty, said, Master, I am glad to see you again at liberty, and came to him and took him by the hand. Sir, returned the sheriff, he is a prisoner; what hast thou to do with him? I crave your mercy, said Arthur, I knew not ⟨p. 484⟩so much, and I thought it no offence to talk to a true man. The sheriff was very angry with this, threatened to carry Arthur with him to prison; notwithstanding he bid him get quickly away, and so they rode forth to Burntwood; where they caused to be made for Dr. Taylor a close hood, with two holes for his eyes to look out at, and a slit for his mouth to breathe at. This they did, that no man should know him, nor he speak to any man. Which practice they used also with others. Their own consciences told them, that they led innocent lamb to the slaughter. Wherefore they feared, lest if the people should have heard them speak, or have seen them they might have been much more strengthened by their pious exhortations to stand steadfast in God's word, and to fly the superstitions and idolatries of the papacy.
WHEN they were come almost to Burntwood, one Arthur Faysy, a man of Hadley, who formerly had been Dr. Taylor's servant, met with them, and he, supposing him to have been at liberty, said, Master, I am glad to see you again at liberty, and came to him and took him by the hand. Sir, returned the sheriff, he is a prisoner; what hast thou to do with him? I crave your mercy, said Arthur, I knew not ⟨p. 484⟩so much, and I thought it no offence to talk to a true man. The sheriff was very angry with this, threatened to carry Arthur with him to prison; notwithstanding he bid him get quickly away, and so they rode forth to Burntwood; where they caused to be made for Dr. Taylor a close hood, with two holes for his eyes to look out at, and a slit for his mouth to breathe at. This they did, that no man should know him, nor he speak to any man. Which practice they used also with others. Their own consciences told them, that they led innocent lambe to the slaughter. Wherefore they feared, lest if the people should have heard them speak, or have seen them they might have been much more strengthened by their pious exhortations to stand stedfast in God's word, and to fly the superstitions and idolatries of the papacy.
ALL the way Dr. Taylor was joyful and merry, as one that accounted himself going to a most pleasant banquet or marriage. He spoke many notable things to the sheriff and yeomen of the guard that conducted him, and often moved them to weep through his much earnest calling upon them to repent, and to amend their evil and wicked living. Oftentimes also he caused them to wonder and rejoice, to see him so constant and steadfast, void of all fear, joyful in heart, and glad to die. Of these yeomen of the guard, three used him very friendly, but the fourth (whose name was Holmes) used him very unkindly, and churlishly.
ALL the way Dr. Taylor was joyful and merry, as one that accounted himself going to a most pleasant banquet or marriage. He spoke many notable things to the sheriff and yeomen of the guard that conducted him, and often moved them to weep through his much earnest calling upon them to repent, and to amend their evil and wicked living. Oftentimes also he caused them to wonder and rejoice, to see him so constant and stedfast, void of all fear, joyful in heart, and glad to die. Of these yeomen of the guard, three used him very friendly, but the fourth (whose name was Holmes) used him very unkindly, and churlishly.
AT Chelmsford the sheriff of Suffolk met them, there to receive him, and to carry him into Suffolk. Being at supper, the sheriff of Essex very earnestly besought him to return to the popish religion, thinking with fair words to persuade him, and said, Good Doctor, we are right sorry for you, considering what the loss is of such a man as you might be. God hath given you great learning and wisdom; wherefore you have been in great favour and reputation in times past with the council and highest of this realm. Besides this, you are a man of goodly personage, in your best strength, and by nature like to live many years, and without doubt, you would in time to come be in as good reputation as ever you were, or rather better, for you are well beloved of all men, as well for your virtues as for your learning: and it were great pity you should cast away yourself willingly, and so come to such a painful and shameful death. You would do much better to revoke your opinions, and return to the catho••• universal church of Rome, acknowledge the pope's holiness to be the supreme head of the ch•••h, and reconcile yourself to him. You may do well yet if you will: doubt you not but you shall find favour at the queen's hands. I and all these your friends, will be suitors for your pardon, which, no doubt, you will obtain; this council I give you, good Doctor, of a good heart, and good-will towards you: and thereupon I drink to you. In like manner said all the yeomen of the guard, Upon that condition, Doctor, we will all drink to you.
AT Chelmsford the sheriff of Suffolk met them, there to receive him, and to carry him into Suffolk. Being at supper, the sheriff of Essex very earnestly besought him to return to the popish religion, thinking with fair words to persuade him, and said, Good Doctor, we are right sorry for you, considering what the loss is of such a man as you might be. God hath given you great learning and wisdom; wherefore you have been in great favour and reputation in times past with the council and highest of this realm. Besides this, you are a man of goodly personage, in your best strength, and by nature like to live many years, and without doubt, you would in time to come be in as good reputation as ever you were, or rather better, for you are well beloved of all men, as well for your virtues as for your learning: and it were great pity you should cast away yourself willingly, and so come to such a painful and shameful death. You would do much better to revoke your opinions, and return to the catho••• universal church of Rome, acknowledge the pope's holiness to be the supreme head of the chh, and reconcile yourself to him. Yow may do well yet if you will: doubt you not but you shall find favour at the queen's hands. I and all these your friends, will be suitors for your pardon, which, no doubt, you will obtain; this council I give you, good Doctor, of a good heart, and good-will towards you: and thereupon I drink to you. In like manner said all the yeomen of the guard, Upon that condition, Doctor, we will all drink to you.
WHEN they had all drank to him, and the •up was come to him, he staid a little, as one studying what answer he might give. At the last thus he answered and said, Mr. Sheriff, and my masters all, I heartily thank you for your good-will; I have hearkened to your words, and marked well your counsels. And to be plain with you, I do perceive that I have been deceived myself, and am like to deceive a great many of Hadley of their expectation. With that word they all rejoiced. Yes, Doctor, said the sheriff, God's blessing on your heart; hold you there still. It is the most comfortable word that we heard you speak yet. What? should you cast away yourself in vain? Play a wise man's part, and I dare warrant you will find favour. Thus they rejoiced very much at the word, and were very merry.
AT last, Good Doctor, said the sheriff, what meant you by this, that you say you have been deceived yourself, and think you shall deceive many in Hadley? Would you know my meaning plainly, said he? Yes, said the sheriff, tell it us plainly.
THEN said Doctor Taylor, I will tell you how I have been deceived, and, as I think, I shall deceive a great many. I am, as you see, a man that hath a very great carcass, which I thought should have been buried in Hadley church-yard, if I had died in my bed, as I well hoped I should have done▪ but herein I see I was deceived; and there are a ⟨p. 485⟩great number of worms in Hadley church-yard, which should have had jolly feeding upon this carrion, which they have looked for many a day. But now I know we be deceived, both I and they; for this carcass must be burned to ashes, and so they shall lose their bait and feeding, that they looked to have had of it.
WHEN the sheriff and his company heard him say so, they were amazed and looked one on another, marvelling at the man's constant mind, that thus without all fear made but a jest of the cruel torment, and death now at hand prepared for him. Thus was their expectation clean disappointed. And in this appeareth what was his meditation in wealth and prosperity; namely, that he should shortly die, and feed worms in his grave; which meditation if all our bishops, and spiritual men had used, they had not for all worldly glory forsaken the word of God and truth, which they in king Edward's days had preached and set forth, nor yet to maintain the bishop of Rome's authority, have committed so many to the fire as they did.
WHEN the sheriff and his company heard him say so, they were amazed and looked one on another, marvelling at the man's constant mind, that thus without all fear made but a jest of the cruel torment, and death now at hand prepared for him. Thus was their expectation clean disappointed. And in this appeareth what was his meditation in wealth and prosperity; namely, that he should shortly die, and feed worms in his grave; which meditation if all our bishops, and spiritual men had used, they had not for all wordly glory forsaken the word of God and truth, which they in king Edward's days had preached and set forth, nor yet to maintain the bishop of Rome's authority, have committed so many to the fire as they did.
BUT let us return to Dr. Taylor, who at Chelmsford was delivered to the sheriff of Suffolk, and by him conducted to Hadley, where he suffered. When they were come to Lanham, the sheriff staid there two days▪ and thither came to him a great number of gentlemen and justices, who were appointed to aid the sheriff. These gentlemen endeavoured very much to reduce Dr. Taylor to the Romish religion, promising him his pardon, which, said they, we have here for you. They promised him great promotions, even a bishopric if he would take it: but all their labour and flattering words were in vain. For he had not built his house upon the sand in peril of falling at every puff of wind, but upon the sure and immovable rock, Christ. Wherefore he abode constant and immovable to the end.
BUT let us return to Dr. Taylor, who at Chelmsford was delivered to the sheriff of Suffolk, and by him conducted to Hadley, where he suffered. When they were come to Lanham, the sheriff staid there two days▪ and thither came to him a great number of gentlemen and justices, who were appointed to aid the sheriff. These gentlemen endeavoured very much to reduce Dr. Taylor to the Romish religion, promising him his pardon, which, said they, we have here for you. They promised him great promotions, even a bishopric if he would take it: but all their labour and flattering words were in vain. For he had not built his house upon the sand in peril of falling at every puff of wind, but upon the sure and immoveable rock, Christ. Wherefore he abode constant and immoveable to the end.
AFTER two days, the sheriff and his company led Dr. Taylor towards Hadley, and coming within two miles of the town, he desired to light off his horse to make water: which done, he leapt, as men commonly do in dancing. Why, Doctor, said the sheriff, how do you now? He answered, Well, God be praised, good sheriff, never better: for now I know I am almost at home. I lack not past two stiles to go over, and I am even at my father's house. But Mr. Sheriff, said he, shall we not go through Hadley? Yes, said the sheriff. Then said he, O good Lord, I thank thee, I shall yet once ere I die see my flock, 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.
AFTER two days, the sheriff and his company led Dr. Taylor towards Hadley, and coming within two miles of the town, he desired to light off his horse to make water: which done, he leapt, as men commonly do in dancing. Why, Doctor, said the sheriff, how do you now? He answered, Well, God be praised, good sheriff, never better: for now I know I am almost at home. I lack not past two stiles to go over, and I am even at my father's house. But Mr. Sheriff, said he, shall we not go through Hadley? Yes, said the sheriff. Then said he, O good Lord, I thank thee, I shall yet once ere I die see my flock, whom thou Lord knowest I have most heartily loved, and truly taught: good Lord bless them, and keep them stedfast in thy word and truth.
