CHAPTER VIII.

[Illustration: 100.jpg HENRY II.]

HENRY II.

{1154.} The extensive confederacies, by which the European potentates

are now at once united and set in opposition to each other, and which,

though they are apt to diffuse the least spark of dissension throughout

the whole, are at least attended with this advantage, that they prevent

any violent revolutions or conquests in particular states, were totally

unknown in ancient ages; and the theory of foreign politics in each

kingdom formed a speculation much less complicated and involved than at

present. Commerce had not yet bound together the most distant nations

in so close a chain: wars, finished in one campaign, and often in one

battle, were little affected by the movements of remote states: the

imperfect communication among the kingdoms, and their ignorance of each

other’s situation, made it impracticable for a great number of them to

combine in one object or effort: and above all, the turbulent spirit and

independent situation of the barons or great vassals in each state, gave

so much occupation to the sovereign, that he was obliged to confine his

attention chiefly to his own state and his own system of government,

and was more indifferent about what passed among his neighbors. Religion

alone, not politics, carried abroad the views of princes, while it

either fixed their thoughts on the Holy Land, whose conquest and defence

was deemed a point of common honor and interest, or engaged them in

intrigues with the Roman pontiff, to whom they had yielded the direction

of ecclesiastical affairs, and who was every day assuming more authority

than they were willing to allow him.

Before the conquest of England by the duke of Normandy, this island

was as much separated from the rest of the world in politics as in

situation; and except from the inroads of the Danish pirates, the

English, happily confined at home, had neither enemies nor allies on the

continent. The foreign dominions of William connected them with the king

and great vassals of France; and while the opposite pretensions of

the pope and emperor in Italy produced a continual intercourse between

Germany and that country, the two great monarchs of France and England

formed, in another part of Europe, a separate system, and carried on

their wars and negotiations, without meeting either with opposition or

support from the others.

On the decline of the Carlovingian race, the nobles in every province of

France, taking advantage of the weakness of the sovereign, and obliged

to provide each for his own defence against the ravages of the Norman

freebooters, had assumed, both in civil and military affairs, an

authority almost independent, and had reduced within very narrow limits

the prerogative of their princes. The accession of Hugh Capet, by

annexing a great fief to the crown, had brought some addition to

the royal dignity; but this fief, though considerable for a subject,

appeared a narrow basis of power for a prince who was placed at the head

of so great a community. The royal demesnes consisted only of Paris,

Orleans, Estampes, Compiegne, and a few places scattered over the

northern provinces: in the rest of the kingdom, the prince’s authority

was rather nominal than real: the vassals were accustomed, nay,

entitled, to make war, without his permission, on each other: they were

even entitled, if they conceived themselves injured, to turn their arms

against their sovereign: they exercised all civil jurisdiction, without

appeal, over their tenants and inferior vassals: their common jealousy

of the crown easily united them against any attempt on their exorbitant

privileges; and as some of them had attained the power and authority

of great princes, even the smallest baron was sure of immediate and

effectual protection. Besides six ecclesiastical peerages, which,

with the other immunities of the church, cramped extremely the general

execution of justice, there were six lay peerages, Burgundy, Normandy

Guienne, Flanders, Toulouse, and Champagne, which formed very extensive

and puissant sovereignties. And though the combination of all those

princes and barons could on urgent occasions, muster a mighty power,

yet was it very difficult to set that great machine in movement; it was

almost impossible to preserve harmony in its parts; a sense of common

interest alone could, for a time, unite them under their sovereign

against a common enemy; but if the king attempted to turn the force

of the community against any mutinous vassal, the same sense of common

interest made the others oppose themselves to the success of his

pretensions. Lewis the Gross, the last sovereign, marched, at one time,

to his frontiers against the Germans at the head of an army of two

hundred thousand men; but a petty lord of Corbeil, of Puiset, of Couci,

was able, at another period, to set that prince at defiance, and to

maintain open war against him.

The authority of the English monarch was much more extensive within his

kingdom, and the disproportion much greater between him and the most

powerful of his vassals. His demesnes and revenue were large, compared

to the greatness of his state: he was accustomed to levy arbitrary

exactions on his subjects: his courts of judicature extended their

jurisdiction into every part of the kingdom: he could crush by his

power, or by a judicial sentence, well or ill founded, any obnoxious

baron: and though the feudal institutions, which prevailed in his

kingdom, had the same tendency, as in other states, to exalt the

aristocracy and depress the monarchy, it required in England, according

to its present constitution, a great combination of the vassals to

oppose their sovereign lord, and there had not hitherto arisen any baron

so powerful, as of himself to levy war against the prince, and to afford

protection to the inferior barons.

While such were the different situations of France and England, and the

latter enjoyed so many advantages above the former, the accession

of Henry II., a prince of great abilities, possessed of so many rich

provinces on the continent, might appear an event dangerous, if not

fatal to the French monarchy, and sufficient to break entirely the

balance between the states. He was master, in the right of his father,

of Anjou and Touraine; in that of his mother, of Normandy and Maine; in

that of his wife, of Guienne, Poictou, Xaintonge, Auvergne, Perigord,

Angoumois, the Limousin. He soon after annexed Brittany to his other

states, and was already possessed of the superiority over that province,

which, on the first cession of Normandy to Rollo the Dane, had been

granted by Charles the Simple in vassalage to that formidable ravager.

These provinces composed above a third of the whole French monarchy, and

were much superior, in extent and opulence, to those territories which

were subjected to the immediate jurisdiction and government of the king.

The vassal was here more powerful than his liege lord: the situation

which had enabled Hugh Capet to depose the Carlovingian princes, seemed

to be renewed, and that with much greater advantages on the side of the

vassal: and when England was added to so many provinces, the French king

had reason to apprehend, from this conjuncture, some great disaster to

himself and to his family. But, in reality, it was this circumstance,

which appeared so formidable, that saved the Capetian race, and, by

its consequences, exalted them to that pitch of grandeur which they at

present enjoy.

The limited authority of the prince in the feudal constitutions,

prevented the king of England from employing with advantage the force

of so many states which were subjected to his government; and these

different members, disjoined in situation, and disagreeing in laws,

language, and manners, were never thoroughly cemented into one monarchy.

He soon became, both from his distant place of residence and from

the incompatibility of interests, a kind of foreigner to his French

dominions; and his subjects on the continent considered their allegiance

as more naturally due to their superior lord, who lived in their

neighborhood, and who was acknowledged to be the supreme head of their

nation. He was always at hand to invade them; their immediate lord was

often at too great a distance to protect them; and any disorder in any

part of his dispersed dominions gave advantages against him The other

powerful vassals of the French crown were rather pleased to see the

expulsion of the English, and were not affected with that jealousy which

would have arisen from the oppression of a co-vassal who was of the same

rank with themselves. By this means, the king of France found it more

easy to conquer those numerous provinces from England than to subdue a

duke of Normandy or Guienne, a count of Anjou, Maine, or Poietou.

And after reducing such extensive territories, which immediately

incorporated with the body of the monarchy, he found greater facility in

uniting to the crown the other great fiefs which still remained separate

and independent.

But as these important consequences could not be foreseen by human

wisdom, the king of France remarked with terror the rising grandeur of

the house of Anjou or Plantagenet; and in order to retard its progress,

he had ever maintained a strict union with Stephen, and had endeavored

to support the tottering fortunes of that bold usurper. But after this

prince’s death, it was too late to think of opposing the succession of

Henry, or preventing the performance of those stipulations which, with

the unanimous consent of the nation, he had made with his predecessor.

The English, harassed with civil wars, and disgusted with the bloodshed

and depredations which, during the course of so many years, had attended

them were little disposed to violate their oaths, by excluding the

lawful heir from the succession of their monarchy.* Many of the most

considerable fortresses were in the hands of his partisans; the whole

nation had had occasion to see the noble qualities with which he was

endowed, and to compare them with the mean talents of William, the son

of Stephen; and as they were acquainted with his great power, and were

rather pleased to see the accession of so many foreign dominions to the

crown of England, they never entertained the least thoughts of resisting

him. Henry himself, sensible of the advantages attending his present

situation, was in no hurry to arrive in England; and being engaged in

the siege of a castle on the frontiers of Normandy, when he received

intelligence of Stephen’s death, he made it a point of honor not to

depart from his enterprise till he had brought it to an issue. He

then set out on his journey, and was received in England with the

acclamations of all orders of men, who swore with pleasure the oath of

fealty and allegiance to him.

{1155.} The first act of Henry’s government corresponded to the

high idea entertained of his abilities, and prognosticated the

reestablishment of justice and tranquillity, of which the kingdom had

so long been bereaved. He immediately dismissed all those mercenary

soldiers who had committed great disorders in the nation; and he sent

them abroad, together with William of Ypres, their leader, the friend

and confidant of Stephen. He revoked all the grants made by his

predecessor, even those which necessity had extorted from the empress

Matilda; and that princess, who had resigned her rights in favor of

Henry, made no opposition to a measure so necessary for supporting the

dignity of the crown. He repaired the coin, which had been extremely

debased during the reign of his predecessor; and he took proper measures

against the return of a like abuse. He was rigorous in the execution

of justice, and in the suppression of robbery and violence; and that

he might restore authority to the laws, he caused all the new erected

castles to be demolished, which had proved so many sanctuaries to

freebooters and rebels. The earl of Albemarle, Hugh Mortimer, and Roger

the son of Milo of Glocester, were inclined to make some resistance to

this salutary measure; but the approach of the king with his forces soon

obliged them to submit.

{1156.} Everything being restored to full tranquillity in England, Henry

went abroad in order to oppose the attempts of his brother Geoffrey,

who, during his absence, had made an incursion into Anjou and Maine,

{1157.} had advanced some pretensions to those provinces, and had got

possession of a considerable part of them. On the king’s appearance, the

people returned to their allegiance; and Geoffrey, resigning his claim

for an annual pension of a thousand pounds, departed and took possession

of the county of Nantz, which the inhabitants, who had expelled Count

Iloel, their prince, had put into his hands. Henry returned to England

the following year: the incursions of the Welsh then provoked him to

make an invasion upon them; where the natural fastnesses of the country

occasioned him great difficulties, and even brought him into danger.

His vanguard, being engaged in a narrow pass, was put to rout: Henry de

Essex, the hereditary standard-bearer, seized with a panic, threw down

the standard, took to flight, and exclaimed that the king was slain; and

had not the prince immediately appeared in person, and led on his troops

with great gallantry, the consequences might have proved fatal to the

whole army. For this misbehavior, Essex was afterwards accused of felony

by Robert de Montfort; was vanquished in single combat; his estate was

confiscated; and he himself was thrust into a convent. The submissions

of the Welsh procured them an accommodation with England.

{1158.} The martial disposition of the princes in that age engaged them

to head their own armies in every enterprise, even the most frivolous;

and their feeble authority made it commonly impracticable for them to

delegate, on occasion, the command to their generals. Geoffrey, the

king’s brother, died soon after he had acquired possession of Nantz;

though he had no other title to that county than the voluntary

submission or election of the inhabitants two years before, Henry laid

claim to the territory as devolved to him by hereditary right, and he

went over to support his pretensions by force of arms. Conan, duke or

earl of Brittany (for these titles are given indifferently by historians

to those princes) pretended that Nantz had been lately separated by

rebellion from his principality, to which of right it belonged; and

immediately on Geoffrey’s death, he took possession of the disputed

territory. Lest Lewis, the French king, should interpose in the

controversy, Henry paid him a visit; and so allured him by caresses

and civilities, that an alliance was contracted between them; and

they agreed that young Henry, heir to the English monarchy, should be

affianced to Margaret of France, though the former was only five years

of age; the latter was still in her cradle. Henry, now secure of meeting

with no interruption on this side, advanced with his army into Brittany;

and Conan, in despair of being able to make resistance, delivered up

the county of Nantz to him. The able conduct of the king procured

him further and more important advantages from this incident. Conan,

harassed with the turbulent disposition of his subjects, was desirous of

procuring to himself the support of so great a monarch; and he betrothed

his daughter and only child, yet an infant, to Geoffrey, the king’s

third son, who was of the same tender years. The duke of Brittany died

about seven years after; and Henry, being mesne lord and also natural

guardian to his son and daughter-in-law, put himself in possession of

that principality, and annexed it for the present to his other great

dominions.

{1159.} The king had a prospect of making still further acquisitions;

and the activity of his temper suffered no opportunity of that kind to

escape him. Philippa, duchess of Guienne, mother of Queen Eleanor,

was the only issue of William IV., count of Toulouse; and would have

inherited his dominions, had not that prince, desirous of preserving the

succession in the male line, conveyed the principality to his brother

Raymond de St. Gilles, by a contract of sale which was in that age

regarded as fictitious and illusory. By this means the title to the

county of Toulouse came to be disputed between the male and female

heirs; and the one or the other, as opportunities favored them, had

obtained possession. Raymond, grandson of Raymond de St. Gilles was

the reigning sovereign; and on Henry’s reviving his wife’s claim, this

prince had recourse for protection to the king of France, who was so

much concerned in policy to prevent the further aggrandizement of the

English monarch. Lewis himself, when married to Eleanor, had asserted

the justice of her claim, and had demanded possession of Toulouse; but

his sentiments changing with his interest, he now determined to defend,

by his power and authority, the title of Raymond. Henry found that

it would be requisite to support his pretensions against potent

antagonists; and that nothing but a formidable army could maintain a

claim which he had in vain asserted by arguments and manifestoes.

An army composed of feudal vassals was commonly very intractable and

undisciplined, both because of the independent spirit of the persons

who served in it, and because the commands were not given either by the

choice of the sovereign or from the military capacity and experience of

the officers. Each baron conducted his own vassals: his rank was greater

or less, proportioned to the extent of his property: even the supreme

command under the prince was often attached to birth; and as the

military vassals were obliged to serve only forty days at their own

charge, though, if the expedition were distant, they were put to great

expense, the prince reaped little benefit from their attendance. Henry,

sensible of these inconveniences, levied upon his vassals in Normandy

and other provinces, which were remote from Toulouse, a sum of money

in lieu of their service; and this commutation, by reason of the

great distance, was still more advantageous to his English vassals. He

imposed, therefore, a scutage of one hundred and eighty thousand pounds

on the knights’ fees, a commutation to which, though it was unusual,

and the first perhaps to be met with in history,[*] [16] the military

tenants willingly submitted; and with this money he levied an army which

was more under his command, and whose service was more durable and

constant.

[* See note P, at the end of the volume.]

Assisted by Berenger, count of Barcelona, and Trincaval, count of

Nismes, whom he had gained to his party, he invaded the county of

Toulouse; and after taking Verdun, Castlenau, and other places, he

besieged the capital of the province, and was likely to prevail in the

enterprise; when Lewis, advancing before the arrival of his main body,

threw himself into the place with a small reenforcement. Henry was urged

by some of his ministers to prosecute the siege, to take Lewis prisoner,

and to impose his own terms in the pacification; but he either thought

it so much his interest to maintain the feudal principles, by which his

foreign dominions were secured, or bore so much respect to his superior

lord, that he declared he would not attack a place defended by him in

person; and he immediately raised the siege. He marched into Normandy

to protect that province against an incursion which the count of Dreux,

instigated by King Lewis, his brother, had made upon it. War was now

openly carried on between the two monarchs, but produced no memorable

event: it soon ended in a cessation of arms, and that followed by a

peace, which was not, however, attended with any confidence or good

correspondence between those rival princes. {1160.} The fortress of

Gisors, being part of the dowry stipulated to Margaret of France, had

been consigned by agreement to the knights templars, on condition that

it should be delivered into Henry’s hands after the celebration of

the nuptials. The king, that he might have a pretence for immediately

demanding the place, ordered the marriage to be solemnized between

the prince and princess, though both infants; and he engaged the grand

master of the templars, by large presents, as was generally suspected,

to put him in possession of Gisors.[*] {1161.} Lewis, resenting this

fraudulent conduct, banished the templars, and would have made war upon

the king of England, had it not been for the mediation and authority

of Pope Alexander III., who had been chased from Rome by the antipope,

Victor IV., and resided at that time in France.

[* Since the first publication of this History,

Lord Lyttleton has published a copy of the treaty between

Henry and Lewis, by which it appears, if there was no secret

article, that Henry was not guilty of any fraud in this

transaction, observe, that the two kings had the year

before, met the pope at the castle of Torci on the Loir; and

they gave him such marks of respect, that both dismounted to

receive him, and holding each of them one of the reins of

his bridle, walked on foot by his side, and conducted him in

that submissive manner into the castle: “a spectacle,”

cries Baronius in an ecstasy, “to God, angels, and men; and

such as had never before been exhibited to the world!”]

{1162.} Henry, soon after he had accommodated his differences with Lewis

by the pope’s mediation, returned to England; where he commenced an

enterprise, which, though required by sound policy, and even conducted

in the main with prudence, bred him great disquietude, involved him in

danger, and was not concluded without some loss and dishonor.

The usurpations of the clergy, which had at first been gradual, were

now become so rapid, and had mounted to such a height, that the contest

between the regale and pontificale was really arrived at a crisis in

England; and it became necessary to determine whether the king or the

priests, particularly the archbishop of Canterbury, should be sovereign

of the kingdom. The aspiring spirit of Henry, which gave inquietude to

all his neighbors, was not likely long to pay a tame submission to

the encroachments of subjects; and as nothing opens the eyes of men

so readily as their interest, he was in no danger of falling, in this

respect, into that abject superstition which retained his people in

subjection. From the commencement of his reign, in the government of his

foreign dominions, as well as of England, he had shown a fixed purpose

to repress clerical usurpations, and to maintain those prerogatives

which had been transmitted to him by his predecessors. During the schism

of the papacy between Alexander and Victor, he had determined, for some

time, to remain neuter; and when informed that the archbishop of Rouen

and the bishop of Mans had, from their own authority, acknowledged

Alexander as legitimate pope, he was so enraged, that, though he spared

the archbishop on account of his great age, he immediately issued orders

for overthrowing the houses of the bishop of Mans and archdeacon of

Rouen;[*] [17] and it was not till he had deliberately examined the

matter, by those views which usually enter into the councils of princes,

that he allowed that pontiff to exercise authority over any of his

dominions.

[* See note Q, at the end of the volume.]

In England, the mild character and advanced years of Theobald,

archbishop of Canterbury, together with his merits in refusing to put

the crown on the head of Eustace, son of Stephen, prevented Henry,

during the lifetime of that primate, from taking any measures against

the multiplied encroachments of the clergy; but after his death, the

king resolved to exert himself with more activity; and that he might be

secure against any opposition, he advanced to that dignity Becket, his

chancellor, on whose compliance he thought he could entirely depend.

Thomas à Becket, the first man of English descent who, since the Norman

conquest, had, during the course of a whole century, risen to any

considerable station, was born of reputable parents in the city of

London; and being endowed both with industry and capacity, he early

insinuated himself into the favor of Archbishop Theobald, and obtained

from that prelate some preferments and offices. By their means he was

enabled to travel for improvement to Italy, where he studied the civil

and canon law at Bologna; and on his return he appeared to have made

such proficiency in knowledge, that he was promoted by his patron to the

archdeaconry of Canterbury, an office of considerable trust and profit.

He was afterwards employed with success by Theobald in transacting

business at Rome; and on Henry’s accession, he was recommended to that

monarch as worthy of further preferment Henry, who knew that Becket had

been instrumental in supporting that resolution of the archbishop, which

had tended so much to facilitate his own advancement to the throne, was

already prepossessed in his favor; and finding on further acquaintance,

that his spirit and abilities entitled him to any trust he soon promoted

him to the dignity of chancellor, one of the first civil offices in the

kingdom. The chancellor, in that age, besides the custody of the great

seal, had possession of all vacant prelacies and abbeys; he was the

guardian of all such minors and pupils as were the king’s tenants; all

baronies which escheated to the crown were under his administration; he

was entitled to a place in council, even though he were not particularly

summoned; and as he exercised also the office of secretary of state, and

it belonged to him to countersign all commissions, writs, and letters

patent, he was a kind of prime minister and was concerned in the

despatch of every business of importance. Besides exercising this high

office, Becket by the favor of the king or archbishop, was made provost

of Beverley, dean of Hastings, and constable of the Tower: he was put

in possession of the honors of Eye and Berkham large baronies that had

escheated to the crown; and to complete his grandeur, he was intrusted

with the education of Prince Henry, the king’s eldest son, and heir

of the monarchy. The pomp of his retinue, the sumptuousness of his

furniture, the luxury of his table, the munificence of his presents,

corresponded to these great preferments; or rather exceeded any thing

that England had ever before seen in any subject. His historian and

secretary, Fitz-Stephens, mentions, among other particulars, that his

apartments were every day in winter covered with clean straw or hay, and

in summer with green rushes or boughs, lest the gentlemen who paid court

to him and who could not, by reason of their great number, find a place

at table, should soil their fine clothes by sitting on a dirty floor.[*]

A great number of knights were retained in his service; the greatest

barons were proud of being received at his table; his house was a place

of education for the sons of the chief nobility; and the king himself

frequently vouchsafed to partake of his entertainments. As his way of

life was splendid and opulent, his amusements and occupations were gay,

and partook of the cavalier spirit, which, as he had only taken deacon’s

orders, he did not think unbefitting his character. He employed himself

at leisure hours in hunting, hawking, gaming, and horsemanship; he

exposed his person in several military actions; he carried over, at

his own charge, seven hundred knights to attend the king in his wars

at Toulouse; in the subsequent wars on the frontiers of Normandy, he

maintained, during forty days, twelve hundred knights, and four

thousand of their train; and in an embassy to France, with which he was

intrusted, he astonished that court by the number and magnificence of

his retinue.

[* John Baldwin held the manor of Oterarsfee in

Aylesbury of the king in soccage, by the service of finding

litter for the king’s bed, viz., in summer, grass or herbs,

and two gray geese, and in winter, straw, and three eels,

thrice in the year, if the king should come thrice in the

year to Aylesbury. Madox, Bar. Anglica, p. 247.]

Henry, besides committing all his more important business to Becket’s

management, honored him with his friendship and intimacy; and whenever

he was disposed to relax himself by sports of any kind, he admitted his

chancellor to the party. An instance of their familiarity is mentioned

by Fitz-Stephens which, as it shows the manners of the age, it may not

be improper to relate. One day, as the king and the chancellor were

riding together in the streets of London, they observed a beggar, who

was shivering with cold. “Would it not be very praiseworthy,” said the

king, “to give that poor man a warm coat in this severe season?” “It

would, surely,” replied the chancellor; “and you do well, sir, in

thinking of such good actions.” “Then he shall have one presently,”

cried the king; and seizing the skirt of the chancellor’s coat, which

was scarlet, and lined with ermine, began to pull it violently. The

chancellor defended himself for some time; and they had both of them

like to have tumbled off their horses in the street, when Becket, after

a vehement struggle, let go his coat; which the king bestowed on the

beggar, who, being ignorant of the quality of the persons, was not a

little surprised at the present.

Becket, who, by his complaisance and good humor, had rendered himself

agreeable, and by his industry and abilities useful, to his master,

appeared to him the fittest person for supplying the vacancy made by the

death of Theobold. As he was well acquainted with the king’s intentions

of retrenching, or rather confining within the ancient bounds, all

ecclesiastical privileges, and always showed a ready disposition to

comply with them, Henry, who never expected any resistance from that

quarter, immediately issued orders for electing him archbishop of

Canterbury. But this resolution, which was taken contrary to the opinion

of Matilda, and many of the ministers, drew after it very unhappy

consequences; and never prince of so great penetration appeared, in

the issue, to have so little understood the genius and character of his

minister.

No sooner was Becket installed in this high dignity, which rendered

him for life the second person in the kingdom, with some pretensions

of aspiring to be the first, than he totally altered his demeanor and

conduct, and endeavored to acquire the character of sanctity, of which

his former busy and ostentatious course of life might, in the eyes of

the people, have naturally bereaved him. Without consulting the king,

he immediately returned into his hands the commission of chancellor;

pretending that he must thenceforth detach himself from secular affairs,

and be solely employed in the exercise of his spiritual function; but in

reality, that he might break off all connections with Henry, and apprise

him that Becket, as primate of England, was now become entirely a new

personage. He maintained, in his retinue and attendants alone, his

ancient pomp and lustre, which was useful to strike the vulgar; in

his own person he affected the greatest austerity and most rigid

mortification, which he was sensible would have an equal or a greater

tendency to the same end. He wore sackcloth next his skin, which, by his

affected care to conceal it, was necessarily the more remarked by all

the world: he changed it so seldom, that it was filled with dirt

and vermin: his usual diet was bread; his drink water, which he even

rendered further unpalatable by the mixture of unsavory herbs: he tore

his back with the frequent discipline which he inflicted on it: he

daily on his knees washed, in imitation of Christ, the feet of thirteen

beggars, whom he afterwards dismissed with presents: he gained the

affections of the monks by his frequent charities to the convents and

hospitals: every one who made profession of sanctity, was admitted to

his conversation, and returned full of panegyrics on the humility, as

well as on the piety and mortification, of the holy primate: he seemed

to be perpetually employed in reciting prayers and pious lectures, or

in perusing religious discourses: his aspect wore the appearance of

seriousness, and mental recollection, and secret devotion; and all men

of penetration plainly saw that he was meditating some great design,

and that the ambition and ostentation of his character had turned itself

towards a new and a more dangerous object.

{1163.} Becket waited not till Henry should commence those projects

against the ecclesiastical power, which he knew had been formed by that

prince: he was himself the aggressor, and endeavored to overawe the king

by the intrepidity and boldness of his enterprises. He summoned the earl

of Clare to surrender the barony of Tunbridge, which, ever since the

conquest, had remained in the family of that nobleman, but which, as it

had formerly belonged to the see of Canterbury, Becket pretended his

predecessors were prohibited by the canons to alienate. The earl of

Clare, besides the lustre which he derived from the greatness of his own

birth and the extent of his possessions, was allied to all the principal

families in the kingdom; his sister, who was a celebrated beauty, had

further extended his credit among the nobility and was even supposed to

have gained the king’s affections; and Becket could not better discover,

than by attacking so powerful an interest, his resolution of maintaining

with vigor the rights, real or pretended, of his see.

William de Eynsford, a military tenant of the crown, was patron of

a living which belonged to a manor that held of the archbishop of

Canterbury; but Becket, without regard to William’s right, presented,

on a new and illegal pretext, one Laurence to that living, who was

violently expelled by Eynsford. The primate, making himself, as was

usual in spiritual courts, both judge and party, issued in a summary

manner the sentence of excommunication against Eynsford, who complained

to the king, that he, who held “in capite” of the crown, should,

contrary to the practice established by the Conqueror, and maintained

ever since by his successors, be subjected to that terrible sentence

without the previous consent of the sovereign. Henry, who had now broken

off all personal intercourse with Becket, sent him, by a messenger, his

orders to absolve Eynsford; but received for answer, that it belonged

not for the king to inform him whom he should absolve and whom

excommunicate; and it was not till after many remonstrances and menaces

that Becket, though with the worst grace imaginable, was induced to

comply with the royal mandate.

Henry, though he found himself thus grievously mistaken in the character

of the person whom he had promoted to the primacy, determined not to

desist from his former intention of retrenching clerical usurpations. He

was entirely master of his extensive dominions: the prudence and vigor

of his administration, attended with perpetual success, had raised his

character above that of any of his predecessors: the papacy seemed to

be weakened by a schism which divided all Europe; and he rightly judged

that, if the present favorable opportunity were neglected, the crown

must, from the prevalent superstition of the people, be in danger of

falling into entire subordination under the mitre.

The union of the civil and ecclesiastical power serves extremely, in

every civilized government, to the maintenance of peace and order; and

prevents those mutual encroachments which, as there can be no ultimate

judge between them, are often attended with the most dangerous

consequences Whether the supreme magistrate who unites these powers

receives the appellation of prince or prelate, is not material.

The superior weight which temporal interests commonly bear in the

apprehensions of men above spiritual, renders the civil part of his

character most prevalent; and in time prevents those gross impostures

and bigoted persecutions which, in all false religions, are the

chief foundation of clerical authority. But during the progress of

ecclesiastical usurpations, the state, by the resistance of the civil

magistrate, is naturally thrown into convulsions; and it behoves the

prince, both for his own interest and for that of the public, to provide

in time sufficient barriers against so dangerous and insidious a rival.

This precaution had hitherto been much neglected in England, as well as

in other Catholic countries; and affairs at last seemed to have come to

a dangerous crisis: a sovereign of the greatest abilities was now on

the throne: a prelate of the most inflexible and intrepid character was

possessed of the primacy: the contending powers appeared to be armed

with their full force and it was natural to expect some extraordinary

event to result from their conflict.

Among their other inventions to obtain money, the clergy had inculcated

the necessity of penance as an atonement for sin; and having again

introduced the practice of paying them large sums as a commutation, or

species of atonement for the remission of those penances, the sins of

the people, by these means, had become a revenue to the priests; and the

king computed, that by this invention alone they levied more money upon

his subjects than flowed, by all the funds and taxes, into the royal

exchequer. That he might ease the people of so heavy and arbitrary

an imposition, Henry required that a civil officer of his appointment

should be present in all ecclesiastical courts, and should, for the

future, give his consent to every composition which was made with

sinners for their spiritual offences.

The ecclesiastics in that age had renounced all immediate subordination

to the magistrate: they openly pretended to an exemptior, in criminal

accusations, from a trial before courts of justice; and were gradually

introducing a like exemption in civil causes: spiritual penalties alone

could be inflicted on their offences; and as the clergy had extremely

multiplied in England, and many of them were consequently of very low

characters, crimes of the deepest dye--murders, robberies, adulteries,

rapes--were daily committed with impunity by the ecclesiastics. It

had been found, for instance, on inquiry, that no less than a hundred

murders had, since the king’s accession, been perpetrated by men of that

profession, who had never been called to account for these offences; and

holy orders were become a full protection for all enormities. A clerk

in Worcestershire, having debauched a gentleman’s daughter, had, at

this time, proceeded to murder the father; and the general indignation

against this crime moved the king to attempt the remedy of an abuse

which was become so palpable, and to require that the clerk should be

delivered up, and receive condign punishment from the magistrate. Becket

insisted on the privileges of the church; confined the criminal in

the bishop’s prison, lest he should be seized by the king’s officers;

maintained that no greater punishment could be inflicted on him than

degradation; and when the king demanded that, immediately after he was

degraded, he should be tried by the civil power, the primate asserted

that it was iniquitous to try a man twice upon the same accusation, and

for the same offence.

Henry, laying hold of so plausible a pretence, resolved to push the

clergy with regard to all their privileges, which they had raised to

an enormous height, and to determine at once those controversies which

daily multiplied between the civil and the ecclesiastical jurisdictions.

He summoned an assembly of all the prelates in England; and he put

to them this concise and decisive question, whether or not they were

willing to submit to the ancient laws and customs of the kingdom? The

bishops unanimously replied, that they were willing, “saving their own

order;” a device by which they thought to elude the present urgency

of the king’s demand, yet reserve to themselves, on a favorable

opportunity, the power of resuming all their pretensions. The king was

sensible of the artifice, and was provoked to the highest indignation.

He left the assembly with visible marks of his displeasure: he required

the primate instantly to surrender the honors and castles of Eye and

Berkham: the bishops were terrified, and expected still further effects

of his resentment. Becket alone was inflexible; and nothing but the

interposition of the pope’s legate and almoner, Philip, who dreaded a

breach with so powerful a prince at so unseasonable a juncture, could

have prevailed on him to retract the saving clause, and give a general

and absolute promise of observing the ancient customs.

But Henry was not content with a declaration in these general terms; he

resolved, ere it was too late, to define expressly those customs with

which he required compliance, and to put a stop to clerical usurpations,

before they were fully consolidated, and could plead antiquity, as they

already did a sacred authority, in their favor. The claims of the church

were open and visible. After a gradual and insensible progress during

many centuries, the mask had at last been taken off, and several

ecclesiastical councils, by their canons, which were pretended to be

irrevocable and infallible, had positively defined those privileges and

immunities which gave such general offence, and appeared so dangerous

to the civil magistrate. Henry, therefore, deemed it necessary to define

with the same precision the limits of the civil power; to oppose

his legal customs to their divine ordinances; to determine the exact

boundaries of the rival jurisdictions; and for this purpose he summoned

a general council of the nobility and prelates at Clarendon, to whom he

submitted this great and important question. [15th Jan. 1164.]

The barons were all gained to the king’s party, either by the reasons

which he urged, or by his superior authority. The bishops were overawed

by the general combination against them; and the following laws,

commonly called the “Constitutions of Clarendon,” were voted without

opposition by this assembly. It was enacted, that all suits concerning

the advowson and presentation of churches should be determined in the

civil courts: that the churches, belonging to the king’s fee, should not

be granted in perpetuity without his consent; that clerks, accused

of any crime, should be tried in the civil courts: that no person,

particularly no clergyman of any rank, should depart the kingdom without

the king’s license: that excommunicated persons should not be bound to

give security for continuing in their present place of abode: that laics

should not be accused in spiritual courts, except by legal and reputable

promoters and witnesses: that no chief tenant of the crown should be

excommunicated, nor his lands be put under an interdict, except with the

king’s consent: that all appeals in spiritual causes should be carried

from the archdeacon to the bishop, from the bishop to the primate, from

him to the king; and should be carried no farther without the king’s

consent: that if any lawsuit arose between a layman and a clergyman

concerning a tenant, and it be disputed whether the land be a lay or

an ecclesiastical fee, it should first be determined by the verdict of

twelve lawful men to what class it belonged; and if it be found to be

a lay fee, the cause should finally be determined in the civil

courts: that no inhabitant in demesne should be excommunicated for

non-appearance in a spiritual court, till the chief officer of the

place where he resides be consulted, that he may compel him by the civil

authority to give satisfaction to the church: that the archbishops,

bishops, and other spiritual dignitaries, should be regarded as barons

of the realm; should possess the privileges and be subjected to the

burdens belonging to that rank; and should be bound to attend the king

in his great councils, and assist at all trials, till the sentence,

either of death or loss of members, be given against the criminal: that

the revenue of vacant sees should belong to the king; the chapter, or

such of them as he pleases to summon, should sit in the king’s chapel

till they made the new election with his consent, and that the bishop

elect should do homage to the crown: that if any baron or tenant “in

capite” should refuse to submit to the spiritual courts, the king should

employ his authority in obliging him to make such submissions; if any

of them throw off his allegiance to the king, the prelates should assist

the king with their censures in reducing him: that goods forfeited to

the king should not be protected in churches or churchyards: that the

clergy should no longer pretend to the right of enforcing payment of

debts contracted by oath or promise; but should leave these lawsuits,

equally with others, to the determination of the civil courts; and that

the sons of villains should not be ordained clerks, without the consent

of their lord.

These articles, to the number of sixteen, were calculated to prevent the

chief abuses which had prevailed in ecclesiastical affairs, and to put

an effectual stop to the usurpations of the church, which, gradually

stealing on, had threatened the total destruction of the civil power.

Henry, therefore, by reducing those ancient customs of the realm to

writing, and by collecting them in a body, endeavored to prevent

all future dispute with regard to them; and by passing so many

ecclesiastical ordinances in a national and civil assembly, he fully

established the superiority of the legislature above all papal decrees

or spiritual canons, and gained a signal victory over the ecclesiastics.

But as he knew that the bishops, though overawed by the present

combination of the crown and the barons, would take the first

favorable opportunity of denying the authority which had enacted these

constitutions, he resolved that they should all set their seal to them,

and give a promise to observe them. None of the prelates dared to oppose

his will, except Becket, who, though urged by the earls of Cornwall and

Leicester, the barons of principal authority in the kingdom, obstinately

withheld his assent. At last, Richard de Hastings, grand prior of the

templars in England, threw himself on his knees before him, and with

many tears entreated him, if he paid any regard either to his own safety

or that of the church, not to provoke, by a fruitless opposition, the

indignation of a great monarch, who was resolutely bent on his purpose,

and who was determined to take full revenge on every one that should

dare to oppose him. Becket, finding himself deserted by all the

world, even by his own brethren, was at last obliged to comply; and he

promised, “legally, with good faith, and without fraud or reserve,”

to observe the constitutions; and he took an oath to that purpose.

The king, thinking that he had now finally prevailed in this great

enterprise, sent the constitutions to Pope Alexander, who then resided

in France; and he required that pontiff’s ratification of them; but

Alexander, who, though he had owed the most important obligations to

the king, plainly saw that these laws were calculated to establish the

independency of England on the papacy, and of the royal power on the

clergy, condemned them in the strongest terms; abrogated, annulled, and

rejected them. There were only six articles, the least important, which,

for the sake of peace, he was willing to ratify.

Becket, when he observed that he might hope for support in an

opposition, expressed the deepest sorrow for his compliance; and

endeavored to engage all the other bishops in a confederacy to adhere to

their common rights, and to the ecclesiastical privileges, in which he

represented the interest and honor of God to be so deeply concerned. He

redoubled his austerities in order to punish himself for his criminal

assent to the constitutions of Clarendon: he proportioned his discipline

to the enormity of his supposed offence: and he refused to exercise any

part of his archiepiscopal function, till he should receive absolution

from the pope, which was readily granted him. Henry, informed of his

present dispositions, resolved to take vengeance for this refractory

behavior; and he attempted to crush him by means of that very power

which Becket made such merit in supporting. He applied to the pope

that he should grant the commission of legate in his dominions to the

archbishop of York; but Alexander, as politic as he, though he granted

the commission, annexed a clause, that it should not empower the legate

to execute any act in prejudice of the archbishop of Canterbury: and the

king, finding how fruitless such an authority would prove, sent back the

commission by the same messenger that brought it.

The primate, however, who found himself still exposed to the king’s

indignation, endeavored twice to escape secretly from the kingdom; but

was as often detained by contrary winds: and Henry hastened to make

him feel the effects of an obstinacy which he deemed so criminal.

He instigated John, mareschal of the exchequer, to sue Becket in the

archiepiscopal court for some lands, part of the manor of Pageham; and

to appeal thence to the king’s court for justice. On the day appointed

for trying the cause, the primate sent four knights to represent certain

irregularities in John’s appeal; and at the same time to excuse himself,

on account of sickness, for not appearing personally that day in the

court. This slight offence (if it even deserve the name) was represented

as a grievous contempt; the four knights were menaced, and with

difficulty escaped being sent to prison, as offering falsehoods to the

court;[*] [18] and Henry, being determined to prosecute Becket to the

utmost, summoned at Northampton a great council, which he purposed to

make the instrument of his vengeance against the inflexible prelate.

[* See note R, at the end of the volume.]

The king had raised Becket from a low station to the highest offices,

had honored him with his countenance and friendship, had trusted to his

assistance in forwarding his favorite project against the clergy; and

when he found him become of a sudden his most rigid opponent, while

every one beside complied with his will, rage at the disappointment, and

indignation against such signal ingratitude, transported him beyond all

bounds of moderation; and there seems to have entered more of passion

than of justice, or even of policy, in this violent prosecution. The

barons, notwithstanding, in the great council voted whatever sentence

he was pleased to dictate to them; and the bishops themselves, who

undoubtedly bore a secret favor to Becket, and regarded him as the

champion of their privileges, concurred with the rest in the design of

oppressing their primate. In vain did Becket urge that his court

was proceeding with the utmost regularity and justice in trying the

mareschal’s cause; which, however, he said, would appear, from the

sheriff’s testimony, to be entirely unjust and iniquitous: that he

himself had discovered no contempt of the king’s court; but, on the

contrary, by sending four knights to excuse his absence, had virtually

acknowledged its authority: that he also, in consequence of the king’s

summons, personally appeared at present in the great council, ready to

justify his cause against the mareschal, and to submit his conduct to

their inquiry and jurisdiction: that even should it be found that he

had been guilty of non-appearance, the laws had affixed a very slight

penalty to that offence; and that as he was an inhabitant of Kent, where

his archiepiscopal palace was seated, he was by law entitled to some

greater indulgence than usual in the rate of his fine. Notwithstanding

these pleas, he was condemned as guilty of a contempt of the king’s

court, and as wanting in the fealty which he had sworn to his sovereign;

all his goods and chattels were confiscated; and that this triumph over

the church might be carried to the utmost, Henry, bishop of Winchester,

the prelate who had been so powerful in the former reign, was in spite

of his remonstrances, obliged, by order of the court, to pronounce the

sentence against him. The primate submitted to the decree; and all the

prelates, except Folliot, bishop of London, who paid court to the king

by this singularity, became sureties for him. It is remarkable, that

several Norman barons voted in this council; and we may conclude, with

some probability, that a like practice had prevailed in many of the

great councils summoned since the conquest. For the contemporary

historian, who has given us a full account of these transactions, does

not mention this circumstance as anywise singular; and Becket, in all

his subsequent remonstrances with regard to the severe treatment which

he had met with, never founds any objection on an irregularity, which to

us appears very palpable and flagrant. So little precision was there at

that time in the government and constitution!

The king was not content with this sentence, however violent and

oppressive. Next day he demanded of Becket the sum of three hundred

pounds, which the primate had levied upon the honors of Eye and Berkham,

while in his possession. Becket, after premising that he was not obliged

to answer to this suit, because it was not contained in his summons;

after remarking that he had expended more than that sum in the repairs

of those castles, and of the royal palace at London, expressed, however,

his resolution, that money should not be any ground of quarrel between

him and his sovereign; he agreed to pay the sum, and immediately gave

sureties for it. In the subsequent meeting, the king demanded five

hundred marks, which, he affirmed, he had lent Becket during the war at

Toulouse; and another sum to the same amount, for which that prince had

been surety for him to a Jew. Immediately after these two claims, he

preferred a third, of still greater importance; he required him to give

in the accounts of his administration while chancellor, and to pay

the balance due from the revenues of all the prelacies, abbeys,

and baronies, which had, during that time, been subjected to his

management.[*] Becket observed that, as this demand was totally

unexpected, he had not come prepared to answer it; but he required a

delay, and promised in that case to give satisfaction. The king insisted

upon sureties; and Becket desired leave to consult his suffragans in a

case of such importance.[**]

It is apparent, from the known character of Henry, and from the usual

vigilance of his government, that, when he promoted Becket to the see

of Canterbury, he was, on good grounds, well pleased with his

administration in the former high office with which he had intrusted

him; and that, even if that prelate had dissipated money beyond the

income of his place, the king was satisfied that his expenses were not

blamable, and had in the main been calculated for his service.[***] Two

years had since elapsed; no demand had during that time been made

upon him; it was not till the quarrel arose concerning ecclesiastical

privileges, that the claim was started, and the primate was, of a

sudden, required to produce accounts of such intricacy and extent before

a tribunal which had shown a determined resolution to ruin and oppress

him. To find sureties that he should answer so boundless and uncertain

a claim, which in the king’s estimation amounted to forty-four thousand

marks,[****] was impracticable; and Becket’s suffragans were extremely

at a loss what counsel to give him in such a critical emergency. By the

advice of the bishop of Winchester he offered two thousand marks as a

general satisfaction for all demands; but this offer was rejected by the

king,[*****] Some prelates exhorted him to resign his see, on condition

of receiving an acquittal; others were of opinion that he ought to

submit himself entirely to the king’s mercy;[******] but the primate,

thus pushed to the utmost, had too much courage to sink under

oppression; he determined to brave all his enemies, to trust to the

sacredness of his character for protection, to involve his cause with

that of God and religion, and to stand the utmost efforts of royal

indignation.

[* Hoveden, p. 494. Diceto, p. 537.]

[** Fitz-Steph. p. 38]

[*** Hoveden, p. 495.]

[**** Epist. St. Thorn, p. 315]

[***** Fitz-Steph. p. 38.]

[****** Fitz-Steph. p. 39. Gervase, p. 1390.]

After a few days spent in deliberation Becket went to church, and said

mass, where he had previously ordered that the entroit to the communion

service should begin with these words, “Princes sat and spake against

me;” the passage appointed for the martyrdom of St. Stephen, whom the

primate thereby tacitly pretended to resemble in his sufferings for the

sake of righteousness. He went thence to court arrayed in his sacred

vestments: as soon as he arrived within the palace gate, he took the

cross into his own hands, bore it aloft as his protection, and marched

in that posture into the royal apartments.[*] The king, who was in an

inner room, was astonished at this parade, by which the primate seemed

to menace him and his court with the sentence of excommunication; and

he sent some of the prelates to remonstrate with him on account of

such audacious behavior. These prelates complained to Becket, that, by

subscribing himself to the constitutions of Clarendon, he had seduced

them to imitate his example; and that now, when it was too late,

he pretended to shake off all subordination to the civil power, and

appeared desirous of involving them in the guilt which must attend any

violation of those laws, established by their consent and ratified by

their subscriptions.[**]

[* Fitz-Steph. p. 40. Hist. Quad. p. 53 Hoveden,

p. 404. Gul Neubr. p. 394. Epist. St. Thom. p. 43.]

[** Fitz-Steph p. 35]

Becket replied, that he had indeed subscribed the constitutions of

Clarendon, “legally, with good faith, and without fraud or reserve;”

but in these words was virtually implied a salvo for the rights of their

order, which, being connected with the cause of God and his church,

could never be relinquished by their oaths and engagements: that if he

and they had erred in resigning the ecclesiastical privileges, the best

atonement they could now make was to retract their consent, which

in such a case could never Be obligatory, and to follow the pope’s

authority, who had solemnly annulled the constitutions of Clarendon, and

had absolved them from all oaths which they had taken to observe them:

that a determined resolution was evidently embraced to oppress the

church; the storm had first broken upon him; for a slight offence, and

which too was falsely imputed to him, he had been tyrannically condemned

to a grievous penalty; a new and unheard-of claim was since started,

in which he could expect no justice; and he plainly saw that he was

the destined victim, who, by his ruin, must prepare the way for the

abrogation of all spiritual immunities: that he strictly prohibited

them who were his suffragans from assisting at any such trial, or giving

their sanction to any sentence against him; he put himself and his see

under the protection of the supreme pontiff; and appealed to him against

any penalty which his iniquitous judges might think proper to inflict

upon him; and that, however terrible the indignation of so great a

monarch as Henry, his sword could only kill the body; while that of the

church, intrusted into the hands of the primate, could kill the soul,

and throw the disobedient into infinite and eternal perdition.[*]

Appeals to the pope, even in ecclesiastical causes, had been abolished

by the constitutions of Clarendon, and were become criminal by law but

an appeal in a civil cause, such as the king’s demand upon Becket, was

a practice altogether new and unprecedented; it tended directly to the

subversion of the government, and could receive no color of excuse,

except from the determined resolution, which was but too apparent to

Henry and the great council, to effectuate, without justice, but under

color of law, the total ruin of the inflexible primate. The king, having

now obtained a pretext so much more plausible for his violence, would

probably have pushed the affair to the utmost extremity against him;

but Becket gave him no leisure to conduct the prosecution. He refused

so much as to hear the sentence which the barons, sitting apart from the

bishops, and joined to some sheriffs and barons of the second rank,[**]

had given upon the king’s claim; he departed from the palace; asked

Henry’s immediate permission to leave Northampton; and upon meeting with

a refusal, he withdrew secretly, wandered about in disguise for some

time, and at last took shipping and arrived safely at Gravelines.

[* Fitz-Steph. p. 42,44,45,46. Hist. Quad. p. 57.

Hoveden, p. 495, M. Paris, p. 72. Epist. St. Thorn, p. 45,

195.]

[** Fitz-Steph. p. 46. This historian is supposed

to mean the more considerable vassals of the chief barons:

these had no title to sit in the great council, and the

giving them a place there was a palpable irregularity;

which, however, is not insisted on in any of Becket’s

remonstrances: a further proof how little fixed the

constitution was at that time.]

The violent and unjust prosecution of Becket had a natural tendency to

turn the public favor on his side, and to make men overlook his former

ingratitude towards the king and his departure from all oaths and

engagements, as well as the enormity of those ecclesiastical privileges,

of which he affected to be the champion. There were many other reasons

which procured him countenance and protection in foreign countries.

Philip, earl of Flanders,[*] and Lewis, king of France,[**] jealous of

the rising greatness of Henry, were well pleased to give him disturbance

in his government; and forgetting that this was the common cause of

princes, they affected to pity extremely the condition of the exiled

primate; and the latter even honored him with a visit at Soissons, in

which city he had invited him to fix his residence.[***]

[* Epist. St Thom. p. 35.]

[** Epist. St. Thom. p. 36, 37.]

[*** Hist. Quad. p. 76.]

The pope, whose interests were more immediately concerned in supporting

him, gave a cold reception to a magnificent embassy which Henry sent

to accuse him; while Becket himself, who had come to Sens in order to

justify his cause before the sovereign pontiff was received with the

greatest marks of distinction. The king in revenge, sequestered

the revenues of Canterbury; and by conduct which might be esteemed

arbitrary, had there been at that time any regular check on royal

authority, he banished all the primate’s relations and domestics, to

the number of four hundred, whom he obliged to swear, before their

departure, that they would instantly join their patron. But this policy,

by which Henry endeavored to reduce Becket sooner to necessity, lost its

effect; the pope, when they arrived beyond sea, absolved them from their

oath, and distributed them among the convents in Franc? and Flanders;

a residence was assigned to Becket himself, in the convent of Pontigny,

where he lived for some years in great magnificence, partly from

a pension granted him on the revenues of that abbey, partly from

remittances made him by the French monarch.

{1165.} The more to ingratiate himself with the pope, Becket resigned

into his hands the see of Canterbury, to which, he affirmed, he had

been uncanonically elected, by the authority of the royal mandate; and

Alexander, in his turn, besides investing him anew with that dignity,

pretended to abrogate by a bull, the sentence which the great council

of England had passed against him. Henry, after attempting in vain to

procure a conference with the pope, who departed soon after for Rome,

whither the prosperous state of his affairs now invited him, made

provisions against the consequences of that breach which impended

between his kingdom and the apostolic see. He issued orders to his

justiciaries, inhibiting, under severe penalties, all appeals to the

pope or archbishop, forbidding any one to receive any mandates from

them, or apply in any case to their authority; declaring it treasonable

to bring from either of them an interdict upon the kingdom, and

punishable in secular clergymen, by the loss of their eyes and by

castration, in regulars by amputation of their feet, and in laies

with death; and menacing with sequestration and banishment the persons

themselves, as well as their kindred, who should pay obedience to any

such interdict; and he further obliged all his subjects to swear to

the observance of those orders.[*] These were edicts of the utmost

importance, affected the lives and properties of all the subjects, and

even changed, for the time, the national religion, by breaking off all

communication with Rome; yet were they enacted by the sole authority of

the king, and were derived entirely from his will and pleasure.

The spiritual powers, which, in the primitive church, were, in a great

measure, dependent on the civil, had, by a gradual progress, reached

an equality and independence; and though the limits of the two

jurisdictions were difficult to ascertain or define, it was not

impossible but, by moderation on both sides, government might still have

been conducted in that imperfect and irregular manner which attends

all human institutions But as the ignorance of the age encouraged the

ecclesiastics daily to extend their privileges, and even to advance

maxims totally incompatible with civil government,[**] Henry had thought

it high time to put an end to their pretensions, and formally, in a

public council, to fix those powers which belonged to the magistrate,

and which he was for the future determined to maintain. In this attempt

he was led to reestablish customs which, though ancient, were beginning

to be abolished by a contrary practice, and which were still more

strongly opposed by the prevailing opinions and sentiments of the age.

[* Hist. Quad. p. 88,167. Hoveden, p. 496. M.

Paris, p. 73,]

[** “Quis dubitet,” says Becket to the king,

“sacerdotes Christi legum et principum omniumque fidelium

patres et magistros censeri,” Epist. St. Thom. 97, 148.]

Principle, therefore, stood on the one side, power on the other; and

if the English had been actuated by conscience more than by present

interest, the controversy must soon, by the general defection of Henry’s

subjects, have been decided against him, Becket, in order to forward

this event, filled all places with exclamations against the violence

which he had suffered. He compared himself to Christ, who had been

condemned by a lay tribunal,[*] and who was crucified anew in the

present oppressions under which his church labored: he took it for

granted, as a point incontestable, that his cause was the cause of

God:[**] he assumed the character of champion for the patrimony of the

divinity: he pretended to be the spiritual father of the king and all

the people of England:[***] he even told Henry that kings reign solely

by the authority of the church,[****] and though he had thus torn off

the veil more openly on the one side than that prince had on the other,

he seemed still, from the general favor borne him by the ecclesiastics,

to have all the advantage in the argument. The king, that he might

employ the weapons of temporal power remaining in his hands, suspended

the payment of Peter’s pence; he made advances towards an alliance with

the emperor Frederic Barbarossa, who was at that time engaged in violent

wars with Pope Alexander; he discovered some intentions of acknowledging

Pascal III., the present antipope, who was protected by that emperor;

and by these expedients he endeavored to terrify the enterprising though

prudent pontiff from proceeding to extremities against him.

{1166.} But the violence of Becket, still more than the nature of the

controversy, kept affairs from remaining long in suspense between

the parties. That prelate, instigated by revenge, and animated by the

present glory attending his situation, pushed matters to a decision, and

issued a censure excommunicating the king’s chief ministers by name,

and comprehending in general all those who favored or obeyed the

constitutions of Clarendon: these constitutions he abrogated and

annulled; he absolved all men from the oaths which they had taken to

observe them; and he suspended the spiritual thunder over Henry himself

only that the prince might avoid the blow by a timely repentance.[*****]

[* Epist. St. Thom. p. 63, 105, 194.]

[** Epist St. Thom. p. 29, 30, 31, 226.]

[*** Fitz-Steph. p. 46. Epist. St. Thom. p.

52,148.]

[**** Brady’s Append. No. 56. Epist. St. Thom. p.

94,95, 97, 99,197. Roveden, p, 497.]

[***** Fitz-Steph. p.56. Hist. Quad. p. 93. M.

Paris, p. 74. Beaulieu. Vie de St. Thom. p. 213. Erzst. St.

Thom. p. 149, 229. Hoveden p. 499.]

The situation of Henry was so unhappy, that he could employ no expedient

for saving his ministers from this terrible censure, but by appealing to

the pope himself, and having recourse to a tribunal whose authority he

had himself attempted to abridge in this very article of appeals, and

which he knew was so deeply engaged on the side of his adversary. But

even this expedient was not likely to be long effectual. Becket had

obtained from the pope a legantine commission over England; and in

virtue of that authority, which admitted of no appeal, he summoned the

bishops of London, Salisbury, and others to attend him, and ordered,

under pain of excommunication, the ecclesiastics, sequestered on his

account, to be restored in two months to all their benefices. But John

of Oxford, the king’s agent with the pope, had the address to procure

orders for suspending this sentence; and he gave the pontiff such hopes

of a speedy reconcilement between the king and Becket, that two legates,

William of Pavia and Otho, were sent to Normandy, where the king then

resided, and they endeavored to find expedients for that purpose. But

the pretensions of the parties were as yet too opposite to admit of an

accommodation: the king required that all the constitutions of Clarendon

should be ratified; Becket, that previously to any agreement, he and his

adherents should be restored to their possessions; and as the legates

had no power to pronounce a definite sentence on either side, the

negotiation soon after came to nothing. The cardinal of Pavia also,

being much attached to Henry, took care to protract the negotiation;

to mitigate the pope by the accounts which he sent of that prince’s

conduct, and to procure him every possible indulgence from the see

of Rome. About this time, the king had also the address to obtain a

dispensation for the marriage of his third son, Geoffrey, with the

heiress of Brittany; a concession which, considering Henry’s demerits

towards the church, gave great scandal both to Becket, and to his

zealous patron, the king of France.

{1167.} The intricacies of the feudal law had, in that age, rendered the

boundaries of power between the prince and his vassals, and between

one prince and another, as uncertain as those between the crown and the

mitre; and all wars took their origin from disputes, which, had there

been any tribunal possessed of power to enforce their decrees, ought

to have been decided only before a court of judicature. Henry, in

prosecution of some controversies in which he was involved with the

count of Auvergne, a vassal of the duchy of Guienne, bad invaded the

territories of that nobleman; who had recourse to the king of France,

his superior lord, for protection, and thereby kindled a war between

the two monarchs. Bur the war was, as usual, no less feeble in its

operations than it wail frivolous in its cause and object; and after

occasioning some mutual depredations,[*] and some insurrections among

the barons of Poictou and Guienne, was terminated by a peace. The terms

of this peace were rather disadvantageous to Henry, and prove that

that prince had, by reason of his contest with the church, lost the

superiority which he had hitherto maintained over the crown of France;

an additional motive to him for accommodating those differences.

The pope and the king began at last to perceive that, in the present

situation of affairs, neither of them could expect a final and decisive

victory over the other, and that they had more to fear than to hope from

the duration of the controversy. Though the vigor of Henry’s government

had confirmed his authority in all his dominions, his throne might be

shaken by a sentence of excommunication; and if England itself could,

by its situation, be more easily guarded against the contagion

of superstitious prejudices, his French provinces at least, whose

communication was open with the neighboring states, would be much

exposed, on that account, to some great revolution or convulsion,

He could not, therefore, reasonably imagine that the pope, while

he retained such a check upon him, would formally recognize the

constitutions of Clarendon, which both put an end to papal pretensions

in England,[**] and would give an example to other states of asserting a

like independency.[***]

[* Hoveden, p. 517. M. Paris, p. 75. Diecto, p.

547 p. 1402, 1403. Robert de Monte.]

[** Epist. St. Thom, p. 230.]

[*** Epist. St. Thom, p. 276.]

Pope Alexander, on the other hand, being still engaged in dangerous wars

with the emperor Frederic, might justly apprehend that Henry, rather

than relinquish claims of such importance, would join the party of

his enemy; and as the trials hitherto made of the spiritual weapons

by Becket had not succeeded to his expectation, and every thing had

remained quiet in all the king’s dominions, nothing seemed impossible

to the capacity and vigilance of so great a monarch. The disposition

of minds on both sides, resulting from these circumstances, produced

frequent attempts towards an accommodation; but as both parties knew

that the essential articles of the dispute could not then be terminated,

they entertained a perpetual jealousy of each other, and were anxious

not to lose the least advantage in the negotiation. The nuncios, Gratian

and Vivian, having received a commission to endeavor a reconciliation,

met with the king in Normandy; and after all differences seemed to be

adjusted, Henry offered to sign the treaty, with a salvo to his royal

dignity; which gave such umbrage to Becket, that the negotiation in the

end became fruitless, and the excommunications were renewed against the

king’s ministers. Another negotiation was conducted at Montmirail, in

presence of the king of France and the French prelates where Becket also

offered to make his submissions, with a salvo to the honor of God and

the liberties of the church; which, for a like reason, was extremely

offensive to the king, and rendered the treaty abortive, {1169.} A

third conference, under the same mediation, was broken off, by Becket’s

insisting on a like reserve in his submissions; and even in a fourth

treaty, when all the terms were adjusted, and when the primate expected

to be introduced to the king, and to receive the kiss of peace, which it

was usual for princes to grant in those times, and which was regarded

as a sure pledge of forgiveness, Henry refused him that honor, under

pretence that, during his anger, he had made a rash vow to that purpose.

This formality served, among such jealous spirits, to prevent the

conclusion of the treaty; and though the difficulty was attempted to be

overcome by a dispensation which the pope granted to Henry from his vow,

that prince could not be pre vailed on to depart from the resolution

which he had taken.

In one of these conferences, at which the French king was present, Henry

said to that monarch, “There have been many kings of England, some of

greater, some of less authority than myself: there have also been many

archbishops of Canterbury, holy and good men, and entitled to every kind

of respect: let Becket but act towards me with the same submission which

the greatest of his predecessors have paid to the least of mine, and

there shall be no controversy between us.” Lewis was so struck with

this state of the case, and with an offer which Henry made to submit

his cause to the French clergy, that he could not forbear condemning the

primate, and withdrawing his friendship from him during some time; but

the bigotry of that prince, and their common animosity against Henry,

soon produced a renewal of their former good correspondence.

{1170.} All difficulties were at last adjusted between the parties; and

the king allowed Becket to return, on conditions which may be esteemed

both honorable and advantageous to that prelate. He was not required

to give up any rights of the church, or resign any of those pretensions

which had been the original ground of the controversy. It was agreed

that all these questions should be buried in oblivion; but that Becket

and his adherents should, without making further submission, be restored

to all their livings, and that even the possessors of such benefices

as depended on the see of Canterbury and had been filled during the

primate’s absence, should be expelled, and Becket have liberty to supply

the vacancies.[*] In return for concessions which intrenched so deeply

on the honor and dignity of the crown, Henry reaped only the advantage

of seeing his ministers absolved from the sentence of excommunication

pronounced against them, and of preventing the interdict, which, if

these hard conditions had not been complied with, was ready to be laid

on all his dominions.[**] It was easy to see how much he dreaded that

event, when a prince of so high a spirit could submit to terms

so dishonorable, in order to prevent it. So anxious was Henry to

accommodate all differences, and to reconcile himself fully with Becket,

that he took the most extraordinary steps to flatter his vanity, and

even on one occasion humiliated himself so far as to hold the stirrup of

that haughty prelate while he mounted.[***]

[* Fitz-Steph. p. 68, 69. Hoveden, p. 520.]

[** Hist Quad. p. 104. Brompton, p, 1062. Gervase,

p. 1408, Epist. St. Thom. 704, 705, 706, 707, 792, 793, 794.

Benedict. Abbas p. 70.]

[*** Epist. 45, lib. r]

But the king attained not even that temporary tranquillity which he had

hoped to reap from these expedients. During the heat of his quarrel with

Becket, while he was every day expecting an interdict to be laid on his

kingdom, and a sentence of excommunication to be fulminated against

his person, he had thought it prudent to have his son. Prince Henry,

associated with him in the royalty, and to make him be crowned king,

by the hands of Roger, archbishop of York. By this precaution, he both

insured the succession of that prince, which, considering the many

past irregularities in that point, could not but be esteemed somewhat

precarious; and he preserved at least his family on the throne, if the

sentence of excommunication should have the effect which he dreaded, and

should make his subjects renounce their allegiance to him. Though his

design was conducted with expedition and secrecy, Becket, before it was

carried into execution, had got intelligence of it, and being desirous

of obstructing all Henry’s measures, as well as anxious to prevent this

affront to himself, who pretended to the sole right, as archbishop of

Canterbury, to officiate in the coronation, he had inhibited all the

prelates of England from assisting at this ceremony, had procured from

the pope a mandate to the same purpose, and had incited the king of

France to protest against the coronation of young Henry, unless the

princess, daughter of that monarch, should at the same time receive the

royal unction. There prevailed in that age an opinion which was akin

to its other superstitions, that the royal unction was essential to the

exercise of royal power: it was therefore natural, both for the king of

France, careful of his daughter’s establishment and for Becket,

jealous of his own dignity, to demand, in the treaty with Henry, some

satisfaction in this essential point. Henry, after apologizing to Lewis

for the omission with regard to Margaret, and excusing it on account of

the secrecy and despatch requisite for conducting that measure, promised

that the ceremony should be renewed in the persons both of the prince

and princess; and he assured Becket, that besides receiving the

acknowledgments of Roger and the other bishops for the seeming

affront put on the see of Canterbury, the primate should, as a further

satisfaction, recover his rights by officiating in this coronation. But

the violent spirit of Becket, elated by the power of the church, and by

the victory which he had already obtained over his sovereign, was not

content with this voluntary compensation, but resolved to make the

injury, which he pretended to have suffered, a handle for taking revenge

on all his enemies. On his arrival in England, he met the archbishop of

York and the bishops of London and Salisbury, who were on their journey

to the king in Normandy. He notified to the archbishop the sentence of

suspension, and to the two bishops that of excommunication, which, at

his solicitation, the pope had pronounced against them. Reginald de

Warrenne and Gervase de Cornhill, two of the king’s ministers, who

were employed on their duty in Kent, asked him, on hearing of this bold

attempt whether he meant to bring fire and sword into the kingdom. But

the primate, heedless of the reproof, proceeded in the most ostentatious

manner to take possession of his diocese in Rochester and all the

towns through which he passed, he was received with the shouts and

acclamations of the populace. As he approached Southwark, the clergy,

the laity, men of all ranks and ages, came forth to meet him, and

celebrated with hymns of joy his triumphant entrance. And though he

was obliged, by order of the young prince, who resided at Woodstock,

to return to his diocese, he found that he was not mistaken, when he

reckoned upon the highest veneration of the public towards his person

and his dignity. He proceeded, therefore, with the more courage to

dart his spiritual thunders. He issued the sentence of excommunication

against Robert de Broc and Nigel de Sackville, with many others, who

either had assisted at the coronation of the prince, or been active

in the late persecution of the exiled clergy. This violent measure, by

which he, in effect, denounced war against the king himself, is commonly

ascribed to the vindictive disposition and imperious character of

Becket; but as this prelate was also a man of acknowledged abilities, we

are not in his passions alone to look for the cause of his conduct, when

he proceeded to these extremities against his enemies. His sagacity had

led him to discover all Henry’s intentions; and he proposed, by this

bold and unexpected assault, to prevent the execution of them.

The king, from his experience of the dispositions of his people, was

become sensible that his enterprise had been too bold, in establishing

the constitutions of Clarendon, in defining all the branches of royal

power, and in endeavoring to extort from the church of England, as well

as from the pope, an express avowal of these disputed prerogatives.

Conscious also of his own violence in attempting to break or subdue the

inflexible primate, he was not displeased to undo that measure which had

given his enemies such advantage against him, and he was contented that

the controversy should terminate in that ambiguous manner, which was

the utmost that princes, in those ages, could hope to attain in their

disputes with the see of Rome. Though he dropped for the present

the prosecution of Becket, he still reserved to himself the right of

maintaining, that the constitutions of Clarendon, the original ground

of the quarrel, were both the ancient customs and the present law of

the realm; and though he knew that the papal clergy asserted them to

be impious in themselves, as well as abrogated by the sentence of the

sovereign pontiff, he intended, in spite of their clamors, steadily to

put those laws in execution, and to trust to his own abilities, and to

the course of events, for success in that perilous enterprise. He hoped

that Becket’s experience of a six years’ exile would, after his pride

was fully gratified by his restoration, be sufficient tc teach him more

reserve in his opposition; or if any controversy arose, he expected

thenceforth to engage in a more favorable cause, and to maintain with

advantage, while the primate was now in his power, the ancient and

undoubted customs of the kingdom against the usurpations of the clergy.

But Becket, determined not to betray the ecclesiastical privileges by

his connivance, and apprehensive lest a prince of such profound policy,

if allowed to proceed in his own way, might probably in the end prevail,

resolved to take all the advantage which his present victory gave him,

and to disconcert the cautious measures of the king, by the vehemence

and rigor of his own conduct. Assured of support from Rome, he was

little intimidated by dangers which his courage taught him to despise,

and which, even if attended with the most fatal consequences, would

serve only to gratify his ambition and thirst of glory.

When the suspended and excommunicated prelates arrived at Baieux, where

the king then resided, and complained to him of the violent proceedings

of Becket, he instantly perceived the consequences; was sensible that

his whole plan of operations was overthrown; foresaw that the dangerous

contest between the civil and spiritual powers, a contest which he

himself had first roused, but which he had endeavored, by all his late

negotiations and concessions, to appease, must come to an immediate

and decisive issue; and he was thence thrown into the most violent

commotion. The archbishop of York remarked to him, that so long as

Becket lived, he could never expect to enjoy peace or tranquillity. The

king himself, being vehemently agitated, burst forth into an exclamation

against his servants, whose want of zeal, he said, had so long left him

exposed to the enterprises of that ungrateful and imperious prelate.

Four gentlemen of his household, Reginald Fitz-Urse, William de

Traci, Hugh de Moreville, and Richard Brito, taking these passionate

expressions to be a hint for Becket’s death, immediately communicated

their thoughts to each other; and swearing to avenge their prince’s

quarrel secretly withdrew from court. Some menacing expressions which

they had dropped, gave a suspicion of their design; and the king

despatched a messenger after them, charging them to attempt nothing

against the person of the primate; but these orders arrived too late

to prevent their fatal purpose. The four assassins, though they took

different roads to England, arrived nearly about the same time at

Saltwoode, near Canterbury; and being there joined by some assistants,

they proceeded in a great haste to the archiepiscopal palace. They found

the primate, who trusted entirely to the sacredness of his character,

very slenderly attended; and though they threw out many menaces and

reproaches against him, he was so incapable of fear, that, without

using any precautions against their violence, he immediately went to St.

Benedict’s church, to hear vespers. They followed him thither, attacked

him before the altar, and having cloven his head with many blows,

retired without meeting any opposition. This was the tragical end of

Thomas à Becket, a prelate of the most lofty, intrepid, and inflexible

spirit, who was able to cover to the world, and probably to himself, the

enterprises of pride and ambition, under the disguise of sanctity,

and of zeal for the interests of religion; an extraordinary personage,

surely, had he been allowed to remain in his first station, and had

directed the vehemence of his character to the support of law and

justice; instead of being engaged, by the prejudices of the times, to

sacrifice all private duties and public connections to ties which he

imagined, or represented, as superior to every civil and political

consideration. But no man, who enters into the genius of that age, can

reasonably doubt of this prelate’s sincerity. The spirit of superstition

was so prevalent, that it infallibly caught every careless reasoner,

much more every one whose interest, and honor, and ambition were engaged

to support it. All the wretched literature of the times was enlisted on

that side. Some faint glimmerings of common sense might sometimes pierce

through the thick cloud of ignorance, or, what was worse, the illusions

of perverted science, which had blotted out the sun, and enveloped the

face of nature; but those who preserved themselves untainted by the

general contagion, proceeded on no principles which they could pretend

to justify; they were more indebted to their total want of instruction

than to their knowledge, if they still retained some share of

understanding; folly was possessed of all the schools as well as all the

churches; and her votaries assumed the garb of philosophers, together

with the ensigns of spiritual dignities. Throughout that large

collection of letters which bears the name of St. Thomas, we find, in

all the retainers of that aspiring prelate, no less than in himself, a

most entire and absolute conviction of the reason and piety of their own

party, and a disdain of their antagonists; nor is there less cant and

grimace in their style, when they address each other, than when they

compose manifestoes for the perusal of the public. The spirit of

revenge, violence, and ambition which accompanied their conduct, instead

of forming a presumption of hypocrisy, are the surest pledges of their

sincere attachment to a cause which so much flattered these domineering

passions.

Henry, on the first report of Becket’s violent measures, had purposed

to have him arrested, and had already taken some steps towards the

execution of that design; but the intelligence of his murder threw the

prince into great consternation; and he was immediately sensible of

the dangerous consequences which he had reason to apprehend from so

unexpected an event. An archbishop of reputed sanctity assassinated

before the altar, in the exercise of his functions, and on account

of his zeal in maintaining ecclesiastical privileges, must attain the

highest honors of martyrdom; while his murderer would be ranked among

the most bloody tyrants that ever were exposed to the hatred and

detestation of mankind. Interdicts and excommunications, weapons in

themselves so terrible, would, he foresaw, be armed with double force,

when employed in a cause so much calculated to work on the human

passions, and so peculiarly adapted to the eloquence of popular

preachers and declaimers. In vain would he plead his own innocence, and

even his total ignorance of the fact; he was sufficiently guilty, if

the church thought proper to esteem him such; and his concurrence in

Becket’s martyrdom, becoming a religious opinion, would be received with

all the implicit credit which belonged to the most established articles

of faith. These considerations gave the king the most unaffected

concern; and as it was extremely his interest to clear himself from all

suspicion, he took no care to conceal the depth of his affliction. He

shut himself up from the light of day, and from all commerce with his

servants; he even refused, during three days, all food and sustenance;

the courtiers, apprehending dangerous effects from his despair were

at last obliged to break in upon his solitude; and they employed every

topic of consolation, induced him to accept of nourishment, and occupied

his leisure in taking precautions against the consequences which he so

justly apprehended from the murder of the primate.

{1171.} The point of chief importance to Henry was to convince the pope

of his innocence; or rather, to persuade him that he would reap greater

advantages from the submissions of England than from proceeding to

extremities against that kingdom. The archbishop of Rouen, the bishops

of Worcester and Evreux, with five persons of inferior quality, were

immediately despatched to Rome, and orders were given them to perform

their journey with the utmost expedition. Though the name and authority

of the court of Rome were so terrible in the remote countries of Europe,

which were sunk in profound ignorance, and were entirely unacquainted

with its character and conduct, the pope was so little revered at home,

that his inveterate enemies surrounded the gates of Rome itself, and

even controlled his government in that city; and the ambassadors, who,

from a distant extremity of Europe, carried to him the humble, or rather

abject submissions of the greatest potentate of the age, found the

utmost difficulty to make their way to him and to throw themselves

at his feet. It was at length agreed that Richard Barre, one of their

number, should leave the rest behind, and run all the hazards of the

passage, in order to prevent the fatal consequences which might ensue

from any delay in giving satisfaction to his holiness. He found, on

his arrival, that Alexander was already wrought up to the greatest rage

against the king, that Becket’s partisans were daily stimulating him to

revenge, that the king of France had exhorted him to fulminate the most

dreadful sentence against England, and that the very mention of Henry’s

name before the sacred college, was received with every expression of

horror and execration.

The Thursday before Easter was now approaching, when it is customary for

the pope to denounce annual curses against all his enemies; and it was

expected that Henry should, with all the preparations peculiar to the

discharge of that sacred artillery, be solemnly comprehended in the

number. But Barre found means to appease the pontiff, and to deter him

from a measure which, if it failed of success, could not afterwards be

easily recalled: the anathemas were only levelled in general against all

the actors, accomplices and abettors of Becket’s murder. The abbot of

Valasse, and the archdeacons of Salisbury and Lisieux, with others

of Henry’s ministers, who soon after arrived, besides asserting their

prince’s innocence, made oath before the whole consistory, that he would

stand to the pope’s judgment in the affair, and make every submission

that should be required of him. The terrible blow was thus artfully

eluded; the cardinals Albert and Theodin were appointed legates to

examine the cause, and were ordered to proceed to Normandy for that

purpose; and though Henry’s foreign dominions were already laid under

an interdict by the archbishop of Sens, Becket’s great partisan, and the

pope’s legate in France, the general expectation that the monarch would

easily exculpate himself from any concurrence in the guilt, kept every

one in suspense, and prevented all the bad consequences which might be

dreaded from that sentence.

The clergy, meanwhile, though their rage was happily diverted from

falling on the king, were not idle in magnifying the sanctity of Becket,

in extolling the merits of his martyrdom, and in exalting him above all

that devoted tribe who, in several ages, had, by their blood, cemented

the fabric of the temple. Other saints had only borne testimony by their

sufferings to the general doctrines of Christianity; but Becket had

sacrificed his life to the power and privileges of the clergy; and this

peculiar merit challenged, and not in vain, a suitable acknowledgment to

his memory. Endless were the panegyrics on his virtues; and the miracles

wrought by his relics were more numerous, more nonsensical, and more

impudently attested than those which ever filled the legend of any

confessor or martyr. Two years after his death, he was canonized by Pope

Alexander; a solemn jubilee was established for celebrating his merits;

his body was removed to a magnificent shrine, enriched with presents

from all parts of Christendom; pilgrimages were performed to obtain his

intercession with Heaven, and it was computed, that in one year above

a hundred thousand pilgrims arrived in Canterbury, and paid their

devotions at his tomb. It is indeed a mortifying reflection to those

who are actuated by the love of fame, so justly denominated the last

infirmity of noble minds, that the wisest legislator and most exalted

genius that ever reformed or enlightened the world, can never expect

such tributes of praise an are lavished on the memory of pretended

saints, whose whole conduct was probably to the last degree odious or

contemptible, and whose industry was entirely directed to the pursuit

of objects pernicious to mankind. It is only a conqueror, a personage no

less entitled to our hatred, who can pretend to the attainment of equal

renown and glory.

It may not be amiss to remark, before we conclude this subject of Thomas

à Becket, that the king, during his controversy with that prelate,

was on every occasion more anxious than usual to express his zeal for

religion, and to avoid all appearance of a profane negligence on that

head. He gave his consent to the imposing of a tax on all his dominions,

for the delivery of the Holy Land, now threatened by the famous Salad

me: this tax amounted to twopence a pound for one year, and a penny a

pound for the four subsequent.[*] Almost all the princes of Europe

laid a like imposition on their subjects, which received the name of

Saladine’s tax. During this period there came over from Germany about

thirty heretics of both sexes, under the direction of one Gerard,

simple, ignorant people, who could give no account of their faith, but

declared themselves ready to suffer for the tenets of their master. They

made only one convert in England, a woman as ignorant as themselves; yet

they gave such umbrage to the clergy, that they were delivered over to

the secular arm, and were punished by being burned on the forehead,

and then whipped through the streets. They seemed to exult in their

sufferings, and as they went along sung the beatitude, “Blessed are ye,

when men hate you and persecute you.”[**]

[* Gervase, p. 1399. M. Paris, p. 74.]

[** Neubr. p. 391. M. Pang, p. 74. Heining. p.

494.]

After they were whipped, they were thrust out almost naked in the midst

of winter, and perished through cold and hunger; no one daring, or

being willing, to give them the least relief. We are ignorant of the

particular tenets of these people; for it would be imprudent to rely on

the representations left of them by the clergy, who affirm, that they

denied the efficacy of the sacraments and the unity of the church. It is

probable that their departure from the standard of orthodoxy was still

more subtile and minute. They seem to have been the first that ever

suffered for heresy in England.

As soon as Henry found that he was in no immediate danger from the

thunders of the Vatican, he undertook an expedition against Ireland; a

design which he had long projected, and by which he hoped to recover his

credit, somewhat impaired by his late transactions with the hierarchy.