One of the oldest towns in Suffolk is Hadleigh. You take the train at Liverpool-street; at Bentley change on to a branch line, and in twenty minutes you are there. If we are to believe the annalist Asser, its origin is to be traced as far back as Alfred the Great’s time, or the latter half of the ninth century. Asser relates that the Danish Chief Guthrum, after having been defeated by King Alfred, embraced Christianity, was appointed governor of East Anglia; that he divided, cultivated, and inhabited the district, and that when he died he was buried in the royal town called Headlega. Be that as it may, in the ancient church of Hadleigh, according to popular belief, there still remains his tomb. The principal event in connection with Hadleigh is that there Dr. Taylor was burnt to death by the Roman Catholics. The little town, says Fox, first heard of the pure Gospel of Christ from the lips of the Rev. Thomas Bilney, who preached there with great earnestness, and whose work was greatly blessed, numbers of men and women becoming convinced of the errors and idolatries of Popery, and gladly embracing the Christian faith. After the martyrdom of Bilney, Dr. Rowland Taylor was appointed vicar. He possessed the friendship of Cranmer, and it was through him that he obtained his living. In Queen Mary’s time the Church was no place for such as he. He was hauled up before Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester. The Bishop, with other bishops, sent him back to Hadleigh to burn to death. “On his way Dr. Taylor was very joyful; he spoke many things to the sheriff and yeomen of the guard that conducted him, and often moved them to weep by his earnest calling upon them to repent and turn to the true religion.” At Hadleigh he was burnt, much to the sorrow of his flock, who revered and loved him. A very modest monument marks the site of the scene of the martyrdom and the triumph, as it then seemed, of Popery and arbitrary power. On the monument, which stands on a grass plot guarded by rails, is an inscription to the memory of Dr. Taylor, ending as follows:

Triumphant Saint, he braved and kissed the rod,
And soared on seraph wing to meet his God.

The lines were the composition of Dr. Nathan Drake, a doctor of medicine, much given to literature, and the author of many books—now rarely seen and never read—who lived and died at Hadleigh. In the church also, the great ornament to the town is a memorial of Dr. Taylor, and in the vestry of the Congregational chapel, just opposite the church, is a rude engraving of the martyrdom, which ought to be reproduced.

Dissent does not fare badly in the town. The Congregational body rejoices in two ministers, and the chapel, a very handsome one, is well attended. It will seat a thousand hearers. The Salvation Army have just commenced preaching in the town, and, as usual, they have drawn some of the people away. The Primitive Methodists and the Baptists have also places of worship at Hadleigh. The parish church can hold 1,200 people, but I do not hear that it is better attended than the Congregational chapel. Congregationalism has a long history in Hadleigh. One of its most successful preachers was the Rev. Isaac Toms, who held his ministry there for fifty-seven years. “His memory,” writes the Rev. Hugh Pigot, formerly curate of Hadleigh, “is mentioned with respect as that of a kind and gentlemanly old man, who, while maintaining his own views, did yet regularly attend the week-day services at the Church.” He was born in London, 1710, and his first engagement is said to have been with a city knight, of Hackney, with whom be continued as chaplain and tutor till 1742. He refused, from conscientious scruples, to accept preferment in the Established Church when offered him by his patron. He is said to have been eminent for his attainments as a scholar, and to have enjoyed the friendship of such men as Dr. Doddridge and Dr. Watts. In the vestry there is preserved a letter written by him to Washington’s private secretary during the American War. Dissent has grown in the place since his day. In a return made to Bishop Secker by Dr. Tanner, and preserved in the Rectory, there is to be found the following:—About 100 Presbyterians of no note; Robert Randall, a wool-comber, and his three children, and Birch, shopkeeper, Anabaptist; no Anabaptist teacher, no Methodist, no Moravian; one Presbyterian Meeting-house, one Presbyterian teacher—viz., Isaac Toms; the said house and teacher generally thought to be duly licensed and qualified according to law. Their number not increased at all of late years. The parish remarkably happy in regard to Dissenters, their number very trifling in proportion to the whole number of inhabitants, which, A.D. 1754, was computed in the town, 2,092; in the hamlet, 168—2,260. As we have seen, Popery had done to death vicar and curate, yet in 1754 we find Dr. Tanner thus writes concerning it: “Eight poor Papists—James Nowland (a taylor) and his daughter, Widow Rand and her daughter, Widow Hoggar, the wife of Ralph Adams, a sadler, and Barry, a taylor, all quiet people. No person lately perverted to Popery; no Popish place of worship; no Popish priest doth reside in or resort to this parish; no Popish school; no confirmation or visitation hath been lately held by a Popish bishop.” Queen Mary, and Bonner, and Gardiner, had all laboured in vain. Compulsory establishment of religion never succeeds in the long run.

In the churchyard of Hadleigh there are no monuments which require description. There is, however a curious inscription on a headstone on the south-east side leading to the market-place regarding the name and fame of one John Turner, a blacksmith, who died 1715.

My sledge and hammer lie declined,
My bellows have quite lost their wind;
My fire’s extinct, my forge decayed,
My vice is in the dust all laid;
My coal is spent, my iron gone,
My nails are drove, my work is done;
My fire-dried corpse lies here at rest,
My soul smoke-like is soaring to be blest.

Hadleigh has seen better days. At one time it flourished by reason of its cloth trade; then it took to making silk, and up to recent times it did a great trade in malt.

I would not live in Hadleigh all my life, but it is certainly a quiet corner into which to creep, and houses are to be had a bargain, considering, after all, how near it is to town. I can’t find that Hadleigh has given birth to any great men. It may be that they may come in time. One distinguished personage born there, Bishop Overall, was one of the translators of the Bible, and wrote that part of the Church Catechism which treats of the Sacraments. Another, William Alabaster, wrote a play called Roxana, which was so pathetic when acted at Trinity College, Cambridge, that it drove a young woman quite out of her wits. No wonder our Puritan forefathers had a horror of the stage.

One of the most eminent men born in Hadleigh, was Dr. Reeve, whose monument is in the Octagon chapel, Norwich, written by the earliest of English German scholars. William Taylor still records his worth and fame, a student at the University of Edinburgh, he became intimate with Francis Horner, and helped to write in the early numbers of the Edinburgh Review. In 1802, he was elected a member of the far famed Speculative Society. In London, where he went to continue his professional studies, he frequently met Coleridge, and the elder Disraeli at dinner. In the spring of 1805, while travelling on the continent—a place then rarely visited by the English, he saw Napoleon on the morrow of Austerlitz—was introduced to Haydn—was present when Beethoven conducted Fidelio—heard Humboldt relate his travels—and Fichte explain his philosophy. Thus, as life opened around with him, with the most brilliant prospects, he died at his father’s house Hadleigh, in September, 1814. It was his son, who for a while was the editor of the Edinburgh.

In modern history, Hadleigh may claim to have made its mark. It was there that the Oxford movement commenced, when in 1833 the Rev. James Rose, the rector, assembled at the parsonage (the present handsome building evidently has been built since then) the men who were to become famous as Tractarians. They had met there to consider how to save the Church. Lord Grey had bidden the Bishops to put their houses in order—ten Irish Bishoprics had been suppressed—a mob at Bristol had burnt the Bishop’s palace. The Church seemed powerless and effete. The friends who met at the Hadleigh Rectory resolved to commence the Oxford Tracts. Mr. Rose was the person of most authority. As Dean Church writes: “As far as could be seen at the time, he was the most accomplished divine and teacher in the English Church. He was a really learned man. He had intellect and energy, and literary skill to use his learning. He was a man of singularly elevated and religious character; he had something of the eye and temper of a statesman.” “The Oxford movement owed to him,” again writes Dean Church, “not only its first impulse, but all that was best and most hopeful in it, and when it lost him it lost its wisest and ablest guide and inspirer.” He and Mr. Palmer, and Mr. A. Perceval, formed, as it were, the right wing of the little council. Their Oxford allies were Mr. Froude, Mr. Keble, and Mr. Newman. From this meeting resulted the Tracts for the Times, and the agitation connected with them. Now that the tumult of the strife is over, it is evident that they gave new life to the Church; that they saved it—for a time.

The world of art also is indebted to Hadleigh. It was the birthplace of Thomas Woolner, the great sculptor. “There is” wrote a critic in The Century, “no living artist, whose work a man of letters approaches with more instructive interest than that of Mr. Woolner, himself, almost as eminent as a poet as a sculptor. His place in literature as the author of My Beautiful Lady, and Pygmalion, has long been decided, and needs no re-illustration. But after all the profession of Mr. Woolner’s life has been sculpture. Thomas Woolner, was born at Hadleigh, on the 17th December, 1825. At the age of thirteen he began life as the pupil of Mr. Behmes, sculptor in ordinary to the Queen. There may be persons living at Hadleigh, who remember the boy sculptor, and who could possibly give interesting facts respecting his early proclivities.” Alas, Hadleigh seems to have preserved no memory of him whatever. A lady resident in the town writes me, “I have heard that my grandfather, of Shelley Hall, once lent money to Thomas Woolner’s father. I have asked several of the inhabitants if they remember Thomas Woolner, but I have not been successful in getting information at present.”