Part 7

But Becket's revenge must be satisfied with other victims. If the worldly King could forget the rancor of this long animosity, it was not so easily appeased in the breast of the Christian Prelate. No doubt vengeance disguised itself to Becket's mind as the lofty and rightful assertion of spiritual authority. The opposing prelates must be at his feet, even under his feet. The first thought of his partisans was not his return to England with a generous amnesty of all wrongs, or a gentle reconciliation of the whole clergy, but the condign punishment of those who had so long been the counselors of the King, and had so recently officiated in the coronation of his son.

The court of Rome did not refuse to enter into these views, to visit the offence of those disloyal bishops who had betrayed the interests and compromised the high principles of churchmen.[195] It was presumed that the King would not risk a peace so hardly gained for his obsequious prelates. [SN: Dated Sept. 10.] The lay adherents of the King, even the plunderers of Church property were spared, some ecclesiastics about his person, John of Oxford himself escaped censure: but Pope Alexander sent the decree of suspension against the Archbishop of York, and renewed the excommunication of London and Salisbury, with whom were joined the Archdeacon of Canterbury and the Bishop of Rochester, as guilty of special violation of their allegiance to the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Bishop of St. Asaph, and some others. Becket himself saw the policy of altogether separating the cause of the bishops from that of the King. He requested that some expressions relating to the King's excesses, and condemnatory of the bishops for swearing to the Customs, should be suppressed; and the excommunication grounded entirely on their usurpation of the right of crowning the King.[196]

[SN: Interview at Tours.]

About four months elapsed between the treaty of Fretteville and the return of Becket to England. They were occupied by these negotiations at Rome, Veroli, and Ferentino; by discussions with the King, who was attacked during this period with a dangerous illness; and by the mission of some of Becket's officers to resume the estates of the see. Becket had two personal interviews with the King: the first was at Tours, where, as he was now in the King's dominions, he endeavored to obtain the kiss of peace. The Archbishop hoped to betray Henry into this favor during the celebration of the mass, in which it might seem only a part of the service.[197] Henry was on his guard, and ordered the mass for the dead, in which the benediction is not pronounced. The King had received Becket fairly; they parted not without ill-concealed estrangement. At the second meeting the King seemed more friendly; he went so far as to say, "Why resist my wishes? I would place everything in your hands." Becket, in his own words, bethought him of the tempter, "All these things will I give unto thee, if thou wilt fall down and worship me."

The King had written to his son in England that the see of Canterbury should be restored to Becket, as it was three months before his exile. But there were two strong parties hostile to Becket: the King's officers who held in sequestration the estates of the see, and seem to have especially coveted the receipt of the Michaelmas rents; and with these some of the fierce warrior nobles, who held lands or castles which were claimed as possessions of the Church of Canterbury. Randulph De Broc, his old inveterate enemy, was determined not to surrender his castle of Saltwood. It was reported to Becket, by Becket represented to the King, that De Broc had sworn that he would have Becket's life before he had eaten a loaf of bread in England. The castle of Rochester was held on the same doubtful title by one of his enemies. The second party was that of the bishops, which was powerful, with a considerable body of the clergy and laity. They had sufficient influence to urge the King's officers to take the strongest measures, lest the Papal letters of excommunication should be introduced into the kingdom.

It is perhaps vain to conjecture, how far, if Becket had returned to England in the spirit of meekness, forgiveness, and forbearance, not wielding the thunders of excommunication, nor determined to trample on his adversaries, and to exact the utmost even of his doubtful rights, he might have resumed his see, and gradually won back the favor of the King, the respect and love of the whole hierarchy, and all the legitimate possessions of his church. But he came not in peace, nor was he received in peace.[198] [SN: Becket prepares for his return.] It was not the Archbishop of Rouen, as he had hoped, but his old enemy John of Oxford, who was commanded by the King to accompany him, and reinstate him in his see. The King might allege that one so much in the royal confidence was the best protector of the Archbishop. The money which had been promised for his voyage was not paid; he was forced to borrow £300 of the Archbishop of Rouen. He went, as he felt, or affected to feel, with death before his eyes, yet nothing should now separate him from his long-divided flock. Before his embarkation at Whitsand in Flanders, he received intelligence that the shores were watched by his enemies, it was said with designs on his life,[199] but assuredly with the determination of making a rigid search for the letters of excommunication.[200] [SN: Letters of excommunication sent before him.] To secure the safe carriage of one of these perilous documents, the suspension of the Archbishop of York, it was intrusted to a nun named Idonea, whom he exhorts, like another Judith, to this holy act, and promises her as her reward the remission of her sins.[201] Other contraband letters were conveyed across the Channel by unknown hands, and were delivered to the bishops before Becket's landing.

The prelates of York and London were at Canterbury when they received these Papal letters. When the fulminating instruments were read before them, in which was this passage, "we will fill your faces with ignominy," their countenances fell. They sent messengers to complain to Becket, that he came not in peace, but in fire and flame, trampling his brother bishops under his feet, and making their necks his footstool; that he had condemned them uncited, unheard, unjudged. "There is no peace," Becket sternly replied, "but to men of good will."[202] It was said that London was disposed to humble himself before Becket; but York,[203] trusting in his wealth, boasted that he had in his power the Pope, the King, and all their courts.

[SN: Lands at Sandwich. Dec. 1.]

Instead of the port of Dover, where he was expected, Becket's vessel, with the archiepiscopal banner displayed, cast anchor at Sandwich. Soon after his landing, appeared in arms the Sheriff of Kent, Randulph de Broc, and others of his enemies. They searched his baggage, fiercely demanded that he should absolve the bishops, and endeavored to force the Archdeacon of Sens, a foreign ecclesiastic, to take an oath to keep the peace of the realm. John of Oxford was shocked, and repressed their violence. On his way to Canterbury the country clergy came forth with their flocks to meet him; they strewed their garments in his way, chanting, "Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord." [SN: At Canterbury.] Arrived at Canterbury, he rode at once to the church with a vast procession of clergy, amid the ringing of the bells, and the chanting of music. He took his archiepiscopal throne, and afterwards preached on the text, "Here we have no abiding city." The next morning came again the Sheriff of Kent, with Randulph de Broc, and the messengers of the bishops, demanding their absolution.[204] Becket evaded the question by asserting that the Excommunication was not pronounced by him, but by his superior the Pope; that he had no power to abrogate the sentence. This declaration was directly at issue with the bull of excommunication: if the bishops gave satisfaction to the Archbishop, he had power to act on behalf of the Pope.[205] But to the satisfaction which, according to one account, he did demand, that they should stand a public trial, in other words place themselves at his mercy, they would not, and hardly could submit. They set out immediately to the King in Normandy.

The restless Primate was determined to keep alive the popular fervor, enthusiastically, almost fanatically, on his side. [SN: Goes to London.] On a pretext of a visit to the young King at Woodstock, to offer him the present of three beautiful horses, he set forth on a stately progress. Wherever he went he was received with acclamations and prayers for his blessings by the clergy and the people. In Rochester he was entertained by the Bishop with great ceremony. In London there was the same excitement: he was received in the palace by the Bishop of Winchester in Southwark. Even there he scattered some excommunications.[206] The Court took alarm, and sent orders to the prelate to return to his diocese. Becket obeyed, but alleged as the cause of his obedience, not the royal command, but his own desire to celebrate the festival of Christmas in his metropolitan church. The week passed in holding sittings in his court, where he acted with his usual promptitude, vigor, and resolution against the intruders into livings, and upon the encroachments on his estates; and in devotions most fervent, mortifications most austere.[207]

His rude enemies committed in the mean time all kinds of petty annoyances, which he had not the loftiness to disdain. Randulph de Broc seized a vessel laden with rich wine for his use, and imprisoned the sailors in Pevensey Castle. An order from the court compelled him to release ship and crew. They robbed the people who carried his provisions, broke into his park, hunted his deer, beat his retainers; and, at the instigation of Randulph's brother, Robert de Broc, a ruffian, a renegade monk, cut off the tail of one of his state horses.

On Christmas day Becket preached on the appropriate text, "Peace on earth, good will towards men." The sermon agreed ill with the text. He spoke of one of his predecessors, St. Alphege, who had suffered martyrdom. "There may soon be a second." He then burst out into a fierce, impetuous, terrible tone, arraigned the courtiers, and closed with a fulminating excommunication against Nigel de Sackville, who had refused to give up a benefice into which, in Becket's judgment, he had intruded, and against Randulph and Robert de Broc. The maimed horse was not forgotten. He renewed in the most vehement language the censure on the bishops, dashed the candle on the pavement in token of their utter extinction, and then proceeded to the mass at the altar.[208]

[SN: The bishops with the King.]

In the mean time the excommunicated prelates had sought the King in the neighborhood of Bayeux; they implored his protection for themselves and the clergy of the realm. "If all are to be visited by spiritual censures," said the King, "who officiated at the coronation of my son, by the eyes of God, I am equally guilty." The whole conduct of Becket since his return was detailed, and no doubt deeply darkened by the hostility of his adversaries. All had been done with an insolent and seditious design of alienating the affections of the people from the King. Henry demanded counsel of the prelates; they declared themselves unable to give it. But one incautiously said, "So long as Thomas lives, you will never be at peace." The King broke out into one of his terrible constitutional fits of passion; and at length let fall the fatal words, "Have I none of my thankless and cowardly courtiers who will relieve me from the insults of one low-born and turbulent priest?"

[SN: The King's fatal words.]

These words were not likely to fall unheard on the ears of fierce, and warlike men, reckless of bloodshed, possessed with a strong sense of their feudal allegiance, and eager to secure to themselves the reward of desperate service. Four knights, chamberlains of the King, Reginald Fitz-Urse, William de Tracy, Hugh de Moreville, and Reginald Brito, disappeared from the court.[209] On the morrow, when a grave council was held, some barons are said, even there, to have advised the death of Becket. Milder measures were adopted: the Earl of Mandeville was sent off with orders to arrest the Primate; and as the disappearance of these four knights could not be unmarked, to stop them in the course of any unauthorized enterprise.

But murder travels faster than justice or mercy. They were almost already on the shores of England. It is said that they met in Saltwood Castle. On the 28th of December, having, by the aid of Randulph de Broc, collected some troops in the streets of Canterbury, they took up their quarters with Clarembold, Abbot of St. Augustine's.

The assassination of Becket has something appalling, with all its terrible circumstances seen in the remote past. What was it in its own age? The most distinguished churchman in Christendom, the champion of the great sacerdotal order, almost in the hour of his triumph over the most powerful king in Europe; a man, besides the awful sanctity inherent in the person of every ecclesiastic, of most saintly holiness; soon after the most solemn festival of the Church, in his own cathedral, not only sacrilegiously, but cruelly murdered, with every mark of hatred and insult. Becket had all the dauntlessness, none of the meekness of the martyr; but while his dauntlessness would command boundless admiration, few, if any, would seek the more genuine sign of Christian martyrdom.

[SN: The knights before Becket.]

The four knights do not seem to have deliberately determined on their proceedings, or to have resolved, except in extremity, on the murder. They entered, but unarmed, the outer chamber.[210] The Archbishop had just dined, and withdrawn from the hall. They were offered food, as was the usage; they declined, thirsting, says one of the biographers, for blood. The Archbishop obeyed the summons to hear a message from the King; they were admitted to his presence. As they entered, there was no salutation on either side, till the Primate having surveyed, perhaps recognized them, moved to them with cold courtesy. Fitz-Urse was the spokesman in the fierce altercation which ensued. Becket replied with haughty firmness. Fitz-Urse began by reproaching him with his ingratitude and seditious disloyalty in opposing the coronation of the King's son, and commanded him, in instant obedience to the King, to absolve the prelates. Becket protested that so far from wishing to diminish the power of the King's son, he would have given him three crowns and the most splendid realm. For the excommunicated bishops he persisted in his usual evasion that they had been suspended by the Pope, by the Pope alone could they be absolved; nor had they yet offered proper satisfaction. "It is the King's command," spake Fitz-Urse, "that you and the rest of your disloyal followers leave the kingdom."[211] "It becomes not the King to utter such command: henceforth no power on earth shall separate me from my flock." "You have presumed to excommunicate, without consulting the King, the King's servant's and officers." "Nor will I ever spare the man who violates the canons of Rome, or the rights of the Church." "From whom do you hold your archbishopric?" "My spirituals from God and the Pope, my temporals from the King." "Do you not hold all from the King?" "Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's, and unto God the things that are God's." "You speak in peril of your life!" "Come ye to murder me? I defy you, and will meet you front to front in the battle of the Lord." He added, that some among them had sworn fealty to him. At this, it is said, they grew furious, and gnashed with their teeth. The prudent John of Salisbury heard with regret this intemperate language: "Would it may end well!" Fitz-Urse shouted aloud, "In the King's name I enjoin you all, clerks and monks, to arrest this man, till the King shall have done justice on his body." They rushed out, calling for their arms.

His friends had more fear for Becket than Becket for himself. The gates were closed and barred, but presently sounds were heard of those without, striving to break in. The lawless Randulph de Broc was hewing at the door with an axe. All around Becket was the confusion of terror: he only was calm. Again spoke John of Salisbury with his cold prudence--"Thou wilt never take counsel: they seek thy life." "I am prepared to die." "We who are sinners are not so weary of life." "God's will be done." The sounds without grew wilder. All around him entreated Becket to seek sanctuary in the church. He refused, whether from religious reluctance that the holy place should be stained with his blood, or from the nobler motive of sparing his assassins this deep aggravation of their crime. They urged that the bell was already tolling for vespers. He seemed to give a reluctant consent; but he would not move without the dignity of his crosier carried before him. [SN: Becket in the Church.] With gentle compulsion they half drew, half carried him through a private chamber, they in all the hasty agony of terror, he striving to maintain his solemn state, into the church. The din of the armed men was ringing in the cloister. The affrighted monks broke off the service; some hastened to close the doors; Becket commanded them to desist--"No one should be debarred from entering the house of God." John of Salisbury and the rest fled and hid themselves behind the altars and in other dark places. The Archbishop might have escaped into the dark and intricate crypt, or into a chapel in the roof. There remained only the Canon Robert (of Merton), Fitz-Stephen, and the faithful Edward Grim. Becket stood between the altar of St. Benedict and that of the Virgin.[212] It was thought that Becket contemplated taking his seat on his archiepiscopal throne near the high altar.

[SN: The murder.]

Through the open door of the cloister came rushing in the four, fully armed, some with axes in their hands, with two or three wild followers, through the dim and bewildering twilight. The knights shouted aloud, "Where is the traitor?"--No answer came back.--"Where is the Archbishop?" "Behold me, no traitor, but a priest of God!" Another fierce and rapid altercation followed: they demanded the absolution of the bishops, his own surrender to the King's justice. They strove to seize him and to drag him forth from the church (even they had awe of the holy place), either to kill him without, or to carry him in bonds to the King. He clung to the pillar. In the struggle he grappled with De Tracy, and with desperate strength dashed him on the pavement. His passion rose; he called Fitz-Urse by a foul name, a pander. These were almost his last words (how unlike those of Stephen and the greater than Stephen!) He taunted Fitz-Urse with his fealty sworn to himself. "I owe no fealty but to my King!" returned the maddened soldier, and struck the first blow. Edward Grim interposed his arm, which was almost severed off. The sword struck Becket, but slightly, on the head. Becket received it in an attitude of prayer--"Lord, receive my spirit," with an ejaculation to the Saints of the Church. Blow followed blow (Tracy seems to have dealt the first mortal wound), till all, unless perhaps De Moreville, had wreaked their vengeance. The last, that of Richard de Brito, smote off a piece of his skull. Hugh of Horsea, their follower, a renegade priest surnamed Mauclerk, set his heel upon his neck, and crushed out the blood and brains. "Away!" said the brutal ruffian, "it is time that we were gone." They rushed out to plunder the archiepiscopal palace.

[SN: The Body.]

The mangled body was left on the pavement; and when his affrighted followers ventured to approach to perform their last offices, an incident occurred which, however incongruous, is too characteristic to be suppressed. Amid their adoring awe at his courage and constancy, their profound sorrow for his loss, they broke out into a rapture of wonder and delight on discovering not merely that his whole body was swathed in the coarsest sackcloth, but that his lower garments were swarming with vermin. From that moment miracles began. Even the populace had before been divided; voices had been heard among the crowd denying him to be a martyr; he was but the victim of his own obstinacy.[213] The Archbishop of York even after this dared to preach that it was a judgment of God against Becket--that "he perished, like Pharaoh, in his pride."[214] But the torrent swept away at once all this resistance. The Government inhibited the miracles, but faith in miracles scorns obedience to human laws. The Passion of the Martyr Thomas was saddened and glorified every day with new incidents of its atrocity, of his holy firmness, of wonders wrought by his remains.

[SN: Effects of the murder.]

The horror of Becket's murder ran throughout Christendom. At first, of course, it was attributed to Henry's direct orders. Universal hatred branded the King of England with a kind of outlawry, a spontaneous excommunication. William of Sens, though the attached friend of Becket, probably does not exaggerate the public sentiment when he describes this deed as surpassing the cruelty of Herod, the perfidy of Julian, the sacrilege of the traitor Judas.[215]

It were injustice to King Henry not to suppose that with the dread as to the consequences of this act must have mingled some reminiscences of the gallant friend and companion of his youth and of the faithful minister, as well as religious horror at a cruel murder, so savagely and impiously executed.[216] He shut himself for three days in his chamber, obstinately refused all food and comfort, till his attendants began to fear for his life. He issued orders for the apprehension of the murderers,[217] and dispatched envoys to the Pope to exculpate himself from all participation or cognizance of the crime. His ambassadors found the Pope at Tusculum: they were at first sternly refused an audience. The afflicted and indignant Pope was hardly prevailed on to permit the execrated name of the King of England to be uttered before him. The cardinals still friendly to the King with difficulty obtained knowledge of Alexander's determination. It was, on a fixed day, to pronounce with the utmost solemnity, excommunication against the King by name, and an interdict on all his dominions, on the Continent as well as in England. The ambassadors hardly obtained the abandonment of this fearful purpose, by swearing that the King would submit in all things to the judgment of his Holiness. With difficulty the terms of reconciliation were arranged.

[SN: Reconciliation at Avranches.]

In the Cathedral of Avranches in Normandy, in the presence of the Cardinals Theodin of Porto, and Albert the Chancellor, Legates for that especial purpose, Henry swore on the Gospels that he had neither commanded nor desired the death of Becket; that it had caused him sorrow, not joy; he had not grieved so deeply for the death of his father or his mother.[218] He stipulated--I. To maintain two hundred knights at his own cost in the Holy Land. II. To abrogate the Statutes of Clarendon, and all bad customs introduced during his reign.[219] III. That he would reinvest the Church of Canterbury in all its rights and possessions, and pardon and restore to their estates all who had incurred his wrath in the cause of the Primate. IV. If the Pope should require it, he would himself make a crusade against the Saracens in Spain. [SN: Ascension Day, May 22, 1172.] In the porch of the church he was reconciled, but with no ignominous ceremony.