towards the primate. The general feeling was one of violent anger, and it is reported that some of the barons advised his death. The absence of the knights had attracted notice in the court, and it was feared that they were bent on some violent design. The Earl of Mandeville and two others were despatched into England, with an order to overtake them, if possible, and a warrant to arrest the archbishop. But this measure was too late. The knights, having collected a force in the king's name, arrived at Canterbury on the afternoon of Tuesday, the 29th of December. The archbishop's dinner was over; but some of his retainers were still at table, and offered them refreshment, which they, "thirsting, not for food but for blood," says Grim, declined. They were then introduced into a chamber where the archbishop was conversing with his clergy. At their entrance, no salutation passed; but after a short silence the archbishop saluted them, and Fitzurse returned the greeting in a contemptuous and ironical tone. Another period of silence followed, which was broken by Fitzurse saying, that he and his companions were charged with a message from the king, and asking the archbishop whether he would hear it in private or publicly. At the desire of John of Salisbury, the clergy were dismissed; but they were again called in when the knights had begun to state their business, as the archbishop declared that such matters ought not to be discussed in private. One of the four is said to have afterwards confessed that while left alone with him they had thoughts of murdering him with the shaft of his crosier-the only weapon which was within reach. They remonstrated with great vehemence against his late proceedings; the censures on the prelates concerned in the coronation, which they represented as an attack on the young king's sovereignty-the excommunication of the king's ministers and friends-his going about the country (as they asserted) with formidable troops of attendants, and exciting the people to demonstrations dangerous to the peace of the realm; and they demanded whether he would accompany them to the king's presence, in order to give an account for these and his other acts. The archbishop replied that he had no thought against the young king's royalty, and heartily wished that it were multiplied threefold; that there was no just cause of offence in the peaceful welcome with which his people had received him after six years * Fitzstephen tells a story of a priest, to whom a servant of the court made a confession as to an order for the archbishop's death, written by Nigel de Sackville; and this is introduced into a note in Mr. Froude's work, p. 539. To us it seems worthy of Titus Oates. of absence; that if he had exceeded in any thing, he was willing to abide a trial; that the bishops had been suspended and excommunicated, not by him but by the pope, and that he had been only the instrument in denouncing them; that he had received the king's consent to their punishment; that he had no jurisdiction over the Archbishop of York, but would absolve the Bishops of London and Salisbury if they would humbly ask pardon, and would give security to stand a trial according to the canons. The knights asked him of whom he held his archbishoprick. He replied that he held it of the king as to the temporalities, and of the pope in spiritual things. They asked whether it were not the king who had bestowed all on him; he replied that it was by no means so; that we must render to the king the things that are the king's, and unto God the things that are God's. On receiving this answer, we are told, they tossed about their gauntlets, and made other signs of rage. The archbishop questioned whether they had the king's authority; he complained of the outrages which had been committed by the brothers de Broc and others of his enemies. They told him that the king commanded him to leave the kingdom, with the foreign clerks of his train and all that belonged to him. He answered that the sea should never again separate him from his flock; that he would unsparingly inflict the censures of the Church on all who should infringe her rights; and at last, appealing to the knights themselves, he reminded them that three of them had become his vassals in the time of his chancellorship. These words goaded them to fury. They rushed out, charging the clerks and others who were present to see that the archbishop should not escape before their return. He declared that he did not intend to quit the spot where he was; and repeatedly pointed to his neck, in token of his willingness to die. He followed them to the door, and called on Hugh de Morville, the most distinguished in rank, to return and speak with him; but his words met with no attention. While the knights had withdrawn to arm themselves, Becket employed the time in endeavouring to assure his terrified clerks, "with a manner as calm," says Grim, who was present, "as if his murderers had come to bid him to a wedding." John of Salisbury expostulated with him on his obstinate refusal of all advice, and on the violence which he had just exhibited. He replied, that his mind was made up as to the course which should be taken; and John observed, "Would to God that it may be for good!" The knights, on returning in their armour, found the door of the apartment shut. Robert de Broc (who had become familiar with the intricacies of the palace, while his brother held the custody of it during the exile,) showed them a private approach; and, by passing through an orchard, breaking down a fence, and entering at a window, they gained admission into the cloister. The archbishop's friends, in the mean time, earnestly urged him to take refuge in the church. Thirsting for what he regarded as martyrdom, he wished to remain where he was, lest a reverence for the holy place should deter his enemies from assaulting him; and he insisted on the promise which he had given that he would not attempt to flee. The clergy reminded him that it was the hour of vespers, and that his duty called him to the church but even this argument is said by some writers to have had no effect. The monks and clergy laid hands on him, compelled him to rise, and hurried him along the cloister, while he struggled to get loose, reproached them for their fear, and vehemently desired them to unhand him. The cross was borne before him by Henry of Auxerre '. The door between the cloister and the north transept of the church had long been closed, and the key was not at hand. We are told by one author that two cellarers of the monastery wrenched off the lock; while, if we may believe others, it fell off at the first touch, to the admiration of all men, "as if it had only been glued to the door "." As the archbishop entered the cathedral, the knights were seen at the further end of the cloister in pursuit of him. The vesper service had begun, when two boys ran wildly into the choir, "announcing," says William of Canterbury, "rather by their affright than by their words, that the enemies were at hand." The monks left the choir, and gathered around the archbishop on his entrance, expressing great joy at seeing him alive, as they had supposed him already slain. He ordered them to resume their office, saying, that otherwise he would again leave the church. Some of his followers began to fasten the doors behind him; but he charged them to leave them open, declaring that God's house ought not to be made a fortress, but was sufficient for the protection of its own. He was now urged 5 It is much in this manner that Benedict of Peterborough tells the story; harmonizing, as far as possible, the reports of Grim and Roger, who speak only of the forcible measures and of the struggle, with that of Fitzstephen, which would lead us to suppose that the archbishop proceeded along the cloister slowly, and with the greatest composure, "like a good shepherd, driving all his sheep before him." (S. T. C. i. 299.) 6 Bened. in Quadr. iii. 14. 7 Grim; Roger. The reader may perhaps remember that there was an earlier lock-miracle at Northampton. That, too, is not related without variations. to make his escape, which he might easily have done, as night was coming on, and the church had many outlets and secret corners; but this he firmly refused. The monks had hurried him up four of the steps which led from the transept to the choir, when the knights entered with drawn swords, crying out, "Where is Thomas Becket, that traitor to the king and kingdom?" Receiving no answer, they again asked, “Where is the archbishop?" He descended from the step on which he was standing, and answered, "Here am I, no traitor to the king, but a priest of God;" and he added, that he was ready to die for the cause of his Redeemer. He then moved towards the north, and placed himself in front of a blank wall, close to the opening of a small chapel, in which stood the altar of St. Benedict. The knights required him to absolve the excommunicated and suspended bishops. "Never," he replied, “will I absolve those who have not made satisfaction for their offences." He again declared himself ready to die, but desired that no injury might be done to those about him. The knights then assaulted him, trying to place him on the shoulders of Tracy, with the intention of removing him from the church. He threw off the first who laid a hand on his dress, and afterwards shook Tracy with such force as to throw him down. The monks and clergy had all fled at the beginning of the struggle, with the exception of the biographer Grim, and Robert of Merton, the archbishop's confessor; with whose names Fitzstephen joins his own. Becket again provoked Fitzurse by reminding him of the fealty which he owed him, and called him a pander. The knight waved his sword over the archbishop's head, exclaiming that he owed no fealty inconsistent with his duty to the king. The archbishop then bowed his head, and commended his cause to God, the blessed Virgin Mary, St. Denys', and the patron saints of Canterbury. Fitzurse rushed on him, wounded him in the head, cutting off a part of his tonsured crown, and almost severed the right arm of Grim', who had been with all his might holding Becket back, while they endeavoured to drag him away. Grim, being thus disabled, took refuge at the nearest altar. 8 Words of this kind appear to have risen very readily to Becket's lips on occasions of violent excitement. We have already noted an instance, in the case of Earl Hamelin, at Northampton. (p. 75.) The provocation addressed to Fitzurse was, indeed, the immediate cause of the murder. The special invocation of this saint was perhaps connected with the support which he had found from the French king. 1 "Le porte-croix Edward-Grim, le même qui avait parlé avec tant de franchise après la conférence de Clarendon.” Thierry, iii. 189. We have already (p. 69) noticed this attempt to enforce the Saxon theory. M. Thierry's account of the murder is very incorrect; and it has been closely followed by M. Michelet. Fitzurse cried out to his companions, "Strike! strike!" A second blow on the head was given by Tracy, and a third, from the same hand, brought the archbishop to his knees. As he fell, with his hands joined in prayer, exclaiming that he was ready to die for Christ and his Church, and commending his soul to God, Briton inflicted on him a fourth stroke, which cut off the remaining part of his tonsure, and lighted on the pavement with such force that the sword was broken'. Morville was employed in keeping off interference, and did not strike the archbishop. One Hugh Mauclerc, a subdeacon, who had accompanied the murderers, in a military dress, put his foot on the neck of the body, and with the point of his sword drew out the brains, and scattered them on the pavement, saying, "This traitor will never rise again." When their deed was completed, the murderers rushed out of the church, shouting out, "For the king! for the king!” which 2 In assigning the blows, we follow Dr. Giles. The original authors are not agreed. 3 "An accursed man, Hugh of Horsea, known by the appellation of the Ill Clerk," says Southey (Book of the Church, 143), apparently following Fuller. But it was evidently a surname. Benedict of Peterborough ascribes the act to the fourth knight (Morville), whom he also describes as the one whose sword was broken. (Quad. iii. 18.) Herbert says, that "ut dicebatur" it was Robert de Broc. (ibid.) M. Thierry (iii. 190) quotes from a note in Hearne's edition of William of Newbury:: "Willelmus Maltret percussit cum pede sanctum The historian, however, appears to overrate the value of this as a confirmation of his Saxon theory. For (1) the incident most likely never occurred in the manner described. The most authentic writers do not mention any other insult offered to the lifeless body, than that which we have related in the text; and this was probably the foundation of the verses, in which the name of the actor, his act, and his words are all altered. (2) We are not aware of any insurrection, Saxon or other, which could have given occasion for such a speech. (3) Even if the versifier's story were true, it would be absurd to lay any especial stress on the sense of the word Angligenas—brought in, as it evidently is, for the sake of the metre. The popular story represents the archbishop as having met his death at the altar. Some say, the high altar; others, with a greater appearance of precision, that of St. Benedict. The fact, however, is as we have stated; he died on the spot which is pointed out in Canterbury Cathedral, but there was no altar behind it. One was afterwards erected in that place in honour of him; but the altar of St. Benedict stood in the cathedral of those days, (which was burnt four years after,) not on the site of that later erection, but in a small chapel near the place. (See Willis's Architectural Hist. of Canterbury Cathedral, pp. 41 and 140.) Ancient representations of the murder depict Becket as falling at the very foot of an altar; but this, as Professor Willis observes, "is only introduced to heighten the sacrilege.' There are in the old writers general expressions, which countenance the common story; but they are corrected by the more particular statements. Thus Diceto has " coram altari," and afterwards, "a dextris altaris Sti. Benedicti." Fitzstephen's "secus altare" is not quite fairly rendered in Mr. Froude's volume, before the altar." (p. 557.) 66 |