William, writing a generation or so after the murder, is willing to be somewhat
more critical of Becket's actions than other contemporaries. His account of the
dispute between the king and the archbishop stresses the similarity in nature of the two,
each perhaps overzealous in the pursuit of justice. Included also is William's
account of Henry's penance at Becket's tomb in 1174.
Book II
Chap. XVI - Of the King’s displeasure against the venerable Thomas, Archbishop of
Canterbury
Before the year had expired in which the council was held, the displeasure of the king
of England waxed hot against the venerable Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury, the unhappy
source of the numerous and excessive evils which ensued. This Thomas was born in London;
he was a man of acute understanding and competent eloquence as well as elegant in person
and manner; he was second to none in despatch of business; he had been conspicuous in the
service of Theobald, archbishop of Canterbury, and had received from him the archdeaconry
of Canterbury, on the promotion of Roger to the see of York. But when Henry the second, on
the demise of Stephen, (as it has been before observed,) succeeded to his hereditary
kingdom, he was unwilling to be without the services of a man fit to stand before kings,
so he made Becket his royal chancellor. Being elevated to this office, he executed it with
such reputation, and gained at the same time such high regard and distinctions from his
prince, that he seemed to share the government with him. Some years had elapsed in his
secular services, when, behold, he was enlisted in ecclesiastical warfare and obtained,
through the royal pleasure, the see of Canterbury. After a time, considering piously and
sagaciously the responsibility of so high an honour, he on a sudden exhibited such a
change in his habit and manners, that some observed, "This is the finger of
God," [Exodus 8:19] and others, " This is a change effected by the hand of the
Most High." [Psalm 76:11 Vulg] In the second year after his advancement, he was
present at the council of Tours, where, as it is reported, being pricked by remorse of
conscience, he privately resigned into the pope’s hands the primacy, having, as it
were, received it not regularly and canonically, but by the agency and hand of the king.
The pope, approving of the transaction, restored to him his pastoral office by virtue of
his ecclesiastical power, and healed the wounded conscience of the scrupulous prelate. The
bishops having returned from the council to their several sees, the royal and the priestly
powers began to be at variance in England, and no small commotion arose concerning the
prerogatives of the clergy. For it was intimated by the judges to the king, (who was
diligently occupied in the concerns of the state, and who had ordered all malefactors to
be indiscriminately banished,) that many crimes against public order, such as thefts,
rapines, and murders, were repeatedly committed by the clergy, to whom the correction of
lay jurisdiction could not be extended. Finally, it was declared, in his presence, that
during his reign more than a hundred murders had been committed by the clergy in England
alone. Hereupon the king, waxing extremely indignant, enacted laws, in the heat of his
passion, against ecclesiastical delinquents, wherein he gave evidence of his zeal for
public justice, though his severity rather exceeded the bounds of moderation. Still,
however, the blame and the origin of the king’s excess in this point attaches only to
the prelates of our times, inasmuch as it proceeded entirely from them. For since the
sacred canons enjoin that not only flagitious clerks, that is, such as are guilty of
heinous crimes, but even such as are only slightly criminal, shall be degraded, - and the
church of England contains many thousands such, like the chaff innumerable amid the few
grains of corn, - what number of the clergy have there been deprived of this office during
many years in England? The bishops however, while anxious rather to maintain the liberties
or rights of the clergy than to correct ant root out their vices, suppose that they do God
service, and the church also, by defending against established law those abandoned clergy,
whom they either refuse or neglect to restrain, as their office enjoins, by the vigour of
canonical censure. Hence the clergy, who, called into the inheritance of the Lord, ought
to shine on earth, in their lives and conversation, like stars placed in the firmament of
heaven, yet take licence and liberty to do what they please with impunity; and regard
neither God, whose vengeance seems to deep, nor men who are placed in authority; more
especially as episcopal vigilance is relaxed with respect to them, while the prerogative
of holy orders exempts them from all secular jurisdiction.
Thus, when the king had enacted certain statutes against the chaff of the holy order,
that is to say, for the examination or punishment of the guilty clergy, in which perhaps
(as it has been said) he exceeded the bounds of moderation, he conceived that they would
be fully ratified could they be confirmed by the consent of the bishops. Therefore, having
assembled the prelates, to procure their sanction by any means whatsoever, he so allured
the whole of them with the exception of one, by blandishments, or terrified them with
alarms, that they deemed it necessary to yield to and obey the royal pleasure, and set
their seals to the enactment of these new constitutions - I say, with the exception of
one, for the archbishop of Canterbury was alone inflexible, and remained unshaken by every
assault. Upon this, the king’s fury became more vehemently incensed against him, in
proportion as he appeared more indebted to the royal munificence for what had been given
and received. Hence the king became hostile to him, and, seeking every occasion to attack
him, demanded an account of everything he had formerly done in the kingdom, in his office
as chancellor. The archbishop, with intrepid freedom, replied, that having discharged his
secular duties, he had been completely transferred to the church by the prince in whose
service he had been engaged, and that matters of bygone date ought not to be urged against
him, but this more for a pretext than for truth. While the causes of the king’s anger
became daily more aggravated, on the day when the archbishop was to answer at large to the
allegations against him, he ordered the solemn office of St. Stephen - " The princes
sat and spake against me, and sinners persecuted me" - to be duly chanted before him
at the celebration of mass. Afterwards he entered the court, carrying in his hand the
silver cross, which was usually borne before him; and when some of the bishops present
wished to undertake the office of carrying the cross before their metropolitan, he
refused, and, although entreated, he would not allow any other to bear the cross in that
public assembly. The king, being already enraged beyond measure at these circumstances,
had an additional incentive to his fury; for in the following night the archbishop
secretly escaped, and passed beyond the sea, where, being honourably received by the king,
the nobility, and the bishops of France, he took up his residence for a time. The king of
England, consequently, was furiously enraged at his absence; and, giving way to unbridled
passion more than became a king, took an unbecoming and pitiful kind of revenge, by
banishing all the archbishop’s relations out of England. Now, though many persons
indeed generally, led by fond affection, but little prudence, do approve everything done
by those whom they love and commend, yet I by no means deem that these actions of this
venerable man are worthy of commendation, however they might proceed from laudable zeal, -
because no benefit would result therefrom, and they only the more inflamed the royal
anger, and melancholy results are known to have ensued from them, - any more than I
commend the actions of the blessed prince of the apostles, now at the summit of
apostolical eminence, in compelling the Gentiles to Judaise after his own example, in
which the teacher of the Gentiles declares him to have been reprehensible, though it is
manifest that he did it from motives of laudable piety.
Chap. XXV - Of the Coronation of Henry the Third, and the murder of St. Thomas
In the year one thousand one hundred and seventy from the delivery of the Virgin, which
was the seventeenth of the reign of Henry the second, the king caused his son Henry, yet a
youth, to be solemnly anointed and crowned king at London, by the hands of Roger,
archbishop of York. For the king not being yet appeased, the venerable Thomas, archbishop
of Canterbury, was still an exile in France, though the Roman pontiff and the king of
France had interested themselves extremely to bring about a reconciliation. The moment
Thomas heard of this transaction, jealous for his church, he quickly informed the pope of
it (by whose favour and countenance he was supported), alleging that this had taken place
to the prejudice of himself and his see; and he obtained letters of severe rebuke, for the
purpose of correcting equally the archbishop of York, who had performed the office in
another’s province, and the bishops, who, by their presence, had sanctioned it. The
king, however, continued but a short time in England after the coronation of his son, and
went beyond sea; and when urged by the frequent admonitions of the pope, and the earnest
entreaties of the illustrious king of France, that he would, at least, condescend to be
reconciled to the dignified exile, after a seven years’ banishment, he at length
yielded; and a solemn reconciliation took place between them, which was the more desired
and the more grateful in proportion to the time of its protraction. While the king,
therefore continued abroad, the archbishop, by royal grant and permission returned to his
diocese, having in his possession, unknown to the king, letters obtained from the pope
against the archbishop of York, and the other prelates who had assisted at that most
unfortunate coronation; which was the means of breaking the recently concluded peace, and
had become the incentive to greater rage. These letters, for the suspension of the
prelates, preceded him into England; and he followed them himself, burning with zeal for
justice, but God knows whether altogether according to knowledge; but it is not allowed to
my insignificance, by any means, to judge hastily of the actions of so great a man. I
think, nevertheless, that the blessed pope Gregory, during the slight and yet fresh
reconciliation of the king would have acted with more mildness, and would have deemed it
proper, (considering the time and terms of their reunion,) to have winked at things, which
might have been endured without injury to the Christian faith, according to the language
of the prophet, "The prudent shall keep silence at that time, for it is an evil
time." [Amos 5:13] Therefore, what was done by the venerable pontiff at this
juncture, I neither think worthy of commendation, nor do I presume to censure; but this I
say, that, if this holy man, through rather too great a fervency of zeal, was guilty of
some little excess, yet was it all purged out in the fire of that holy suffering which is
known to have ensued. Therefore, although holy men are to be loved and commended by us,
who are so sensible of our great inferiority, still we are not bound to love or praise
them for actions, in which they either do, or have shown the weakness of their human
nature; but merely, for such as we are bound implicitly to imitate. For who can say that
they should be imitated in all things - when the apostle James asserts, "that in many
things we offend all?" [James 3:2.] Wherefore, they are to be applauded, not in all
their actions, but with prudence and caution, that God’s prerogative may be kept
inviolate, in whose praises, indeed, none can exceed, how much soever he may attempt it.
The bishops, on account of the offence before mentioned (which I could wish to have
remained unnoticed at the time), being suspended, at the instance of the venerable Thomas,
from all episcopal functions, by the authority of the apostolic see, the king was
exasperated by the complaints of some of them, and grew angry and indignant beyond
measure, and losing the mastery of himself, in the heat of his exuberant passion, from the
abundance of his perturbed spirit, poured forth the language of indiscretion. On which,
four of the bystanders, men of noble race and renowned in arms, wrought themselves up to
the commission of iniquity through zeal for their earthly master; and leaving the royal
presence, and crossing the sea, with as much haste as if posting to a solemn banquet, and
urged on by the fury they lad imbibed, they arrived at Canterbury on the fifth day after
Christmas, where they found the venerable archbishop occupied in the celebration of that
holy festival with religious joy. Proceeding to him just as he had dined, and was sitting
with certain honourable personages, omitting even to salute him, and holding forth the
terror of the king’s name, they commanded (rather than asked, or admonished him)
forthwith to remit the suspension of the prelates who had obeyed the king’s pleasure,
to whose contempt and disgrace this act redounded. On his replying that the sentence of a
higher power was not to be abrogated by an inferior one, and that it was not his concern
to pardon persons suspended not by himself, but by the Roman pontiff, they had recourse to
violent threats. Undismayed at these words, though uttered by men raging and extremely
exasperated, he spoke with singular freedom and confidence. In consequence, becoming more
enraged than before, they hastily retired, and bringing their arms, (for they had entered
without them,) they prepared themselves, with loud clamour and indignation, for the
commission of a most atrocious crime. The venerable prelate was persuaded by his friends
to avoid the madness of these furious savages, by retiring into the holy church. When,
from his determination to brave every danger, he did not acquiesce, on the forcible and
tumultuous approach of his enemies, he was at length dragged by the friendly violence of
his associates to the protection of the holy church. The monks were solemnly chanting
vespers to Almighty God, as he entered the sacred temple of Christ, shortly to become an
evening sacrifice. The servants of Satan pursued having neither respect as Christians to
his holy order, nor to the sacred place, or season; but attacking the dignified prelate as
he stood in prayer before the holy altar, even during the festival of Christmas, these
truly nefarious Christians most inhumanly murdered him. Having done the deed, and retiring
as if triumphant, they departed with unhallowed joy. Recollecting, however, that perhaps
the transaction might displease the person in whose behalf they had been so zealous, they
retired to the northern parts of England, waiting until they could fully discover the
disposition of their monarch towards them.
The frequent miracles which ensued manifested how precious, in the sight of God, was
the death of the blessed prelate, and how great the atrocity of the crime committed
against him, in the circumstances of time, place, and person. Indeed, the report of such a
dreadful outrage, quickly pervading every district of the western world, sullied the
illustrious king of England, and so obscured his fair fame among Christian potentates,
that, as it could scarcely be credited to have been perpetrated without his consent and
mandate, he was assailed by the execrations of almost all, and deemed fit to be the object
of general detestation. Upon hearing of this transaction of his adherents, and learning
the stain cast by them upon his glory, and the almost indelible brand on his character, he
was so grieved, that, it is related, for several days he tasted nothing. For, whether he
should pardon those murderers or not, be was sensible that people would be inclined to
think evil of him. Moreover, should he spare these nefarious wretches, he would seem to
have lent either daring or authority to such a crime; but, should he punish them for what
they were supposed to have done not without his command, he would, on every hand, be most
flagitious. In consequence, he thought it best to pardon them; and regarding equally his
own credit and their salvation, he ordered them to be presented to the holy see, to
undergo a solemn penance. This was done accordingly, and they, wounded in conscience,
proceeded to Rome, and by the sovereign pope were ordered, by way of penance, to go to
Jerusalem, where, as it is said, they all closed their lives, signally executing the
appointed measure of their atonement, but of this hereafter.
Whilst almost all persons then attributed the death of this holy man to the king, and
more especially the French nobles, who had been jealous of his good fortune, were
instigating the apostolical see against him, as the true and undoubted author of this
great enormity, the king sent representatives to Rome, to mitigate, by submissive
entreaty, the displeasure which was raging against him. When they arrived at Rome, (as all
men joined in execrating the king of England,) it was with difficulty that they were
admitted. Constantly affirming, however, that this dreadful outrage was not committed
either by the command or concurrence of their master, they, at length, obtained, that
legates a latere from the pope, vested with full power, should be sent into France,
who, on carefully investigating, and ascertaining the truth of the matter, should admit
the king either to the purgation of his fame, or punish him, if found guilty, by
ecclesiastical censure, which was done accordingly. For two cardinals being despatched
from the holy see - that is to say, the venerable Albert, who afterward presided over it,
and Theodinus - they arrived in France; and a solemn meeting being summoned in the
territory of the king of England, consisting of prelates and nobles, they formally
undertook the purgation of this same prince; there, humbly making his appearance, and
firmly protesting that what had sullied his fame had taken place without his wish or
command, and that he had never been so much afflicted with any transaction before. Indeed,
he did not deny that those murderers had, perhaps, taken occasion and daring to their
excessive fury from some words of his too incautiously uttered; when, hearing of the
suspension of the prelates, he became infuriated, and spake unadvisedly. "And, on
this account," said he, "I do not refuse the discipline of the Church: I will
submit devotedly to whatever you decree, and I will fulfil your injunction." Saying
this, and casting off his clothes, after the custom of public penitents, he submitted
himself naked to ecclesiastical discipline. The cardinals, overjoyed at the humility of so
great a prince, and weeping with joy, while numbers joined their tears, and gave praise to
God, dissolved the assembly, - the king’s conscience being quieted, and his character
in some measure restored. Richard, prior of Dover, then succeeded the blessed Thomas in
the see of Canterbury.
Chap. XXXV - Of the memorable penance of the King of England, and of its
consequence.
[In 1173, Henry's sons, aided by the king of France, revolted; the king of Scotland
also took the opportunity to invade England from the north. In July 1174 Henry
sought divine aid against the rebels.]
King Henry the second had now come into England from Normandy, to throw the strength of
his presence against his son, who was expected to arrive with the Flemish forces; but
remembering how much he had sinned against the church of Canterbury, he proceeded thither
immediately he had landed, and prayed, freely shedding tears, at the tomb of Thomas, the
blessed bishop. On entering the chapter of the monks, he prostrated himself on the ground,
and with the utmost humility entreated pardon; and, at his urgent petition, he, though so
great a man, was corporally beaten with rods by all the brethren in succession. On the
following night, in a dream, it was said to a certain venerable old monk of that church,
"Hast thou not seen today a marvellous miracle of royal humility? Know that the
result of those events which are passing around him will shortly declare how much his
royal humility has pleased the King of kings." I learned this from that most reverend
and simple-minded man, Roger, abbot of Byland, who, while relating it, said that he had
heard it from a trustworthy person, who was accidentally staying at that very time in
Kent. He who touches the mountains and they smoke, [Psalm 144:5] soon after clearly made
known, by a notable proof, how much He valued hat devotion of that smoking mountain; for
on that day, and, as it is said, at that very hour in which that mountain gave forth smoke
at Canterbury, the divine power overthrew his most mighty enemy the king of Scots, in the
extreme confines of England: so that the reward of that pious work might not seem to have
followed the work itself, but rather to have attended it, so that no man might be suffered
to be in suspense on this point. This prince, departing from Canterbury, hastened to
London, and having sent his military forces forward against Hugh Bigot, he made a short
stay there, having been let blood. When lo! in the middle of the night, a very swift
messenger, sent by Ralph de Glanville, knocked at the gate of the palace. Being rebuked by
the porter and the guards, and ordered to be quiet, he knocked the louder, saying that he
brought good news on his lips, which it was positively necessary that the king should hear
that very night. His pertinacity at length overcame them, especially as they hoped that he
came to announce good tidings. On being admitted within the door, in the same manner he
over-persuaded the royal chamberlains. When he was introduced into the royal chamber, he
boldly went to the king’s couch, and aroused him from sleep. The king, on awaking,
said, "Who art thou?" To which he replied, "I am the attendant upon Ralph
de Glanville, your faithful liegeman, by whom I have been sent to your highness; and I
come to bring good tidings." "Ralph, our friend! Is he well?" asked the
king. "He is well, my lord," he answered; "and, behold, he holds your enemy
the king of Scots, captive in chains at Richmond." The king astonished at his news,
said, "Say on ;" but he only reiterated his words. "Have you no letters
?" he asked; on which he produced sealed letters, containing a detail of what had
been done. The king, instantly inspecting them, leaped from his bed, and, with the deepest
emotion, rendered thanks, moistened with pious tears, to Him who alone does wondrous
things. He then summoned the people of his household, and made them partakers of his joy.
In the morning came also other messengers, reporting the same; but only one, that is, he
who had come first received the gratuity. The good tidings were immediately made public,
amidst the earnest acclamations of the people, and the ringing of bells in all parts of
London.
