withdrew himself from the meeting of the astonished bishops without the usual salutation. But Henry's anger was of short duration. Like the flickering firelight in a dark room, which seems now to sink into obscurity, and then suddenly appears again, gleams of past affection would return, and the King would relent towards his old friend. He resolved to seek an interview with Becket, and remonstrate with him. His desire was that it should be a private one; but Becket wished it otherwise, and when he arrived, surrounded by a magnificent suite, and mounted on a gorgeous palfrey, the King was amazed and displeased. "Have I not," said he to the Archbishop, "elevated you from a humble station to the very height of honour? Why, then," he continued, with a reproachful tone of entreaty, “have you forgotten all my favours to you, all my affection for you? Why have you, all of a sudden, become, not merely ungrateful to me, but my bitter opponent ?" Becket was unmoved, and coldly replied: "No, my lord, I am not ungrateful for favours I have received, not simply from you, but from God through you; be it far from me, therefore, to show ingratitude. Remember how faithfully I have served you; but I may not, I cannot disregard the will of God to obey yours. In the great day of judgment we shall both be judged as the servants of the same Master, and one will not be able to answer for the other. We are indeed to obey our temporal lords, but not against God; for St. Peter saith: We must obey God rather than man.'"

Would such a speech as this tend to allay the irritation of a man who had really just cause for anger? Henry was furious; Becket was unmoved; and when the old obnoxious words once more rang in the King's ears: "As of old, as now, I am ready to obey your wishes, saving my order," the King's indignation knew no bounds, and the two friends parted in deadly hate.

The bishops now sided strongly with Henry, and the Pope, fearing lest this open rupture should affect his interests, urged Becket to accede to the King's wishes. Becket faltered, and at length reluctantly agreed. The King was determined to humble the pride of his obstinate prelate. "Publicly," he exclaimed, with bitterness, "you opposed my wishes; publicly you must yield your consent." A Council was held at the Castle of Clarendon, near Salisbury, and a paper was drawn up, which contained the laws or constitution Becket was to accept. He refused. Besides the matter with regard to the trial of the clergy, other clauses had been inserted, and to those the bishops objected also. The nobles sided with the King, and drawing their swords, swore to enforce their sovereign's authority. In those iron days threats were often put into execution on the spot; and the bishops in

alarm, now begged and entreated Becket to relent. He was but mortal; his brave and dauntless nature gave way, and in a moment of weakness he signed the paper. The bishops followed his example. The Archbishop had sacrificed the liberties of the Church, and the tyranny of the King was triumphant. Such was the popular view of the case.

CHAPTER IX.

HENRY II. continued.-1164 TO 1170.

COMPUNCTION OF BECKET AFTER HAVING SIGNED THE CONSTITUTION OF CLARENDON-HE PROCLAIMS HIS PENITENCE-INDECISION OF THE POPE-BECKET ATTEMPTS TO LEAVE THE KINGDOM, AND FAILS-MEANNESS OF HENRY-PERSECUTION OF BECKET-INEFFECTUAL REMONSTRANCE OF THE BISHOPS-BECKET REMAINS FIRM IS DEGRADED FROM HIS OFFICE, AND ALL HIS GOODS CONFISCATED-SYMPATHY OF THE POPULACE-BECKET ESCAPES FROM ENGLAND-CRUELTY AND LITTLENESS OF HENRY'S CONDUCT -BECKET RETURNS HIS ENTHUSIASTIC RECEPTION AT DOVER GREAT REJOICINGS AT CANTERBURY-UNWISE AND HASTY CONDUCT OF BECKET -RAGE OF THE KING-FATAL EFFECTS OF HIS HASTY EXCLAMATIONANGRY INTERVIEW OF BECKET WITH THE ARMED KNIGHTS-FEARFUL SCENE IN CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL-MURDER OF BECKET-CONSTERNATION OF THE PEOPLE OF CANTERBURY-ESCAPE OF THE MURDERERS.

BECKET retired from the Council of Clarendon sick at heart and miserable. He was no coward, and the thought of his weakness and inconsistency maddened him. Where was the great principle for which he had been so long contending? It was ruined-and by the very man who was in duty bound to uphold and support it even to the death. What would his people think of his cowardice? In what light would God view his conduct? It was this last thought that so deeply pained the religious mind of Becket. He was no worldling now, and he poured out his feelings in bitter self-reproaches. "Proud, vain man that I was, how utterly unfitted to be the pastor of sheep! I, the patron of stage-players, I, the follower of hounds -I am called to be the shepherd of so many souls! Of a truth, my past life was very far from conducing to the safety of the Church; and now these are my works! I am deserted by God, and fit only to be cast out of the see I fill.”*

But Becket

had learnt a lesson, and from this hour he became a deeply religious man. He solemnly swore to uphold the cause of truth and liberty, even if it cost him his life. No mortification was

* Herbert.

K

too severe for the repentant Archbishop. He proclaimed his penitence publicly, and absented himself from his sacred duties.* Becket's conduct produced the effects he hoped for; and the people saw and applauded their prelate's earnest repentance. In the meantime the Pope appears to have felt uncertain how to act, or whose part to take in the quarrel. He evidently wished to avoid offending either the King or the Archbishop. Becket, aware of his hesitation, determined to go to Rome, and urge his claim in person, hoping also that if he left the country for a time the King's wrath might subside. Becket embarked, but, like Anselm, he was breaking the law by so doing, and the sailors, fearing they should fall under the King's displeasure, brought the Archbishop back again to the English shore. When Henry next saw Becket he remarked, with a smile: " And so, my lord, you wish to leave my kingdom. I suppose it is not large enough to contain us both." But the King was really in no joking mood; he now determined to crush Becket, and the meanness with which he carried out this determination was most contemptible. By a series of the most unjust persecutions he hoped to make him resign his archbishopric; but the dauntless man with whom he had to deal was not to be thus easily terrified into submission. The King called a national assembly at Northampton, and Becket was summoned as a culprit before the peers. He was called on to answer the most unfounded charges. Amongst other things, Henry required him to account for all the sums that had passed through his hands while chancellor, although nearly all the money he possessed had been expended for the good of the King and the nation. Becket had no one to stand by him in his hour of need. The bishops all sided with the King; they dared not incur his displeasure. The Archbishop defended himself with a courage and skill that drew forth the admiration even of his enemies; but he had to struggle against immense odds. The King was victorious, and the proud spirit of Becket humbled. All his property was to be confiscated, and he would be reduced to beggary. But though the mighty and powerful were against him, the sympathy of the poorer classes was all on his side; and when his sensitive nature sank under the unusual excitement, and he was seized with sudden illness, the people flocked to his gates to proclaim their sympathy with the great man who was bearing all this for their sakes. On the last and most important day of the Council, the bishops waited on Becket, and using all their eloquence, prayed and entreated him to avert the king's wrath by resigning his archbishopric. Becket's

* Collier, vol. ii., p. 277.

"My

answer showed that his lofty spirit was yet uncrushed. enemies," he bitterly exclaimed, "are pressing upon me; the whole world is against me. My chief sorrow is that you, who are the sons of my mother the Church, do not take my part. Though I were to say nothing, yet all future ages will declare that you deserted me in the battle-me, your father and Archbishop, sinner though I am." With these passionate words he concludes: "Be assured of one thing: though enemies shall press hard upon me; though this frail body yield to their persecution, because all flesh is weak, yet shall my spirit never yield, nor will I ever, by God's mercy, turn my back in flight, nor basely desert the flock committed to my care."

Thomas à Becket knew that the feeling of the people was all with him. They adored and respected the man whose openhanded generosity and kindness they had so often experienced. The Archbishop knew how to take advantage of this. On his way to the Council he proceeded, gorgeously attired in full pontificals, and attended by a numerous suite, to the Church. A large congregation assembled, eager to join in prayer with their persecuted champion. The full, rich voice of the Primate was heard chanting the introit, "Princes also did sit and speak against me;" and when, solemnly and with a most impressive air, he pronounced the benediction, all eyes were turned towards him. His tall figure, piercing eye, and handsome, yet determined countenance, fascinated the beholders; and as he passed with dignity through the streets on his way to the councilchamber, the common people thronged around him, and prostrating themselves as he passed, with tears and prayers besought his blessing. The king, alarmed lest the mob should proceed to extremities, ordered the castle gates to be closed, and as the Archbishop entered the portcullis fell. Possibly Becket thought his last hour was come. He grasped his crosier-the insignia of his office-firmly in his hand. The bishops entreated him to lay it aside, and not offend the King. The Bishop of London, in a most undignified manner, attempted to snatch it from him, but the Primate held it fast. "My cross," said he, "is the sign of peace; I will not let it go." It was a loud and angry meeting. Again, for the last time, Becket was urged to agree to the King's wishes. Alone and unaided he stood up, and with boldness and dignity declared that the signature he had placed on the paper at the Council of Clarendon was null and void. "I fell," said he, "for all flesh is weak; but I will, with the strength of God's Holy Spirit, resume my courage, and contend manfully with the foe. I pledged myself to what was unlawful; but an unlawful oath is not binding." Judgment was

then pronounced against Thomas à Becket. Found guilty of high treason and obstinacy, all his goods were to be confiscated, and he was to be deprived of his sacred office. After the sentence was given the Archbishop arose with calm dignity, and raising his cross aloft, prepared to quit the council-chamber. We cannot withhold our sympathy from the crushed and fallen man; he bore with dignity the insults thrust upon him. As he left the hall hoots, yells, and insulting epithets greeted him; but outside the castle the scene was changed. A long, loud shout of affectionate applause burst from the enthusiastic mob. They imagined their beloved Primate had been murdered; but he lived to distribute blessings on the people as he passed along.

The Archbishop's life was now in imminent peril. At this time he was not prepared to suffer martyrdom for his cause, and he fled in disguise to the sea-coast, from whence he embarked to France. Becket bore his six years of banishment with the fortitude worthy of a great man. The littleness of Henry's mind is certainly displayed during this period. All his old love for Becket had vanished. Provoked at the kindly reception which the King of France afforded the Primate, he banished all who were in any way related to him, and seized their goods.* Such base cruelty and spite did the King's cause infinite harm. Englishmen love justice; and when the wretched wanderers flocked for protection to their outlawed Primate, public indignation against the King was at its height. Becket in his extremity appealed to the Pope, who, with his usual caution, avoided giving a decided opinion, sometimes appearing to side with the King, sometimes with the Archbishop.

There is little doubt but that the misfortunes which now crowded upon the once exalted and admired Thomas à Becket were of infinite service to him. He became in his adversity an humbled and altered man, and led a life of true penitence and devotion. The fleeting honours of the world had lost their attraction for him, and he studied with all the energy of a loving heart to fit himself for a better home. Becket's popularity abroad was as great as it had been in England; and the King was pressed on all sides to attempt a reconciliation. Possibly time may in some measure have obliterated from Henry's mind the past miserable disputes. At all events, he seems to have deplored the unsettled state of his country during the absence of the Primate; and now he longed to heal the quarrel. After much wearisome negotiation, and a good deal of hesitation on

* Collier, vol. ii., p. 290.