Plantagenet 1 - The Plantagenet Prelude (49 page)

Chapter XVI

MURDER

S
ix years before he had escaped from the town of Sandwich and now he came back to it. His servants had set up the cross of Canterbury on the prow and as the little boat came in the people came down to the shore to welcome him. Many of them waded in the water battling for the honour of helping him ashore. On that strand many knelt and asked for his blesssing.

One man shouted: ‘Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.’ And some of them shouted: ‘Hosanna.’

As he took the road to Canterbury people fell in behind him. They cried out: ‘He is back among us. God has blessed us and given him back to us.’

In the city of Canterbury itself they set all the bells ringing; people dressed themselves in their finest garments; they filled the streets; they cried to each other that all was well with Canterbury for Thomas Becket was back.

Thomas walked into the cathedral. The joy of being in his own church was unsurpassed. He sat on the throne and one by one his monks came to receive the kiss of peace and the people who had crowded into the cathedral looked on with awe.

Some whispered to the others: ‘All is well now. He is back.’

There were many who were deeply disturbed by his return; those who had helped to destroy him, those who had taken part in the coronation of young Henry, those who had believed their ambitions would be furthered if he were out of the way. And chief of these was Roger, Archbishop of York.

‘How long will he last?’ he asked his friends. ‘Has he not laid strictures on us because we officiated at the ceremony of coronation. I have the King behind me. I will empty my coffers … I will spend eight - nay ten thousand pounds - to put down this man. Let us to Normandy where the King is and there we will tell him of how Thomas Becket conducts himself as soon as he has returned to England.’

Smarting under the threat of excommunication the bishops agreed with him and they set out for Normandy.

Thomas meanwhile was discovering that the King had not kept his promise to return his estates, and had even taken revenge on his family. His sisters had been forced to go into exile. Mary who had become a nun had gone to a French convent, and Matilda and her family had also gone to France where the Abbot of Clairmarais had given them refuge.

How deep had Henry’s feeling been? Had he really meant his promise of friendship?

Roger of York was a powerful man and he had been Thomas’s enemy from the days when they had been together in Theobald’s household. He now knew that Thomas’s rise could only be his fall, and he had meant what he said when he had boasted that he would spend his fortune on ruining him.

He was an influence in the Church; he had won the King’s favour by showing him that he had no scruples and was bent on reaching his ambition which was to be head of the Church in England.

Before he left for Normandy he went to Woodstock to see the young Henry.

Henry was proud of his crown and his attitude had changed since his coronation. He was apt to be critical of his father and wise men said that it was folly for one king to crown his successor while he still lived. The boy king was undoubtedly a little arrogant; he was surrounded by sycophants, and when Roger came with that unctuous manner which he knew so well how to use and flattered the young boy, he could influence him.

‘Becket is on his way to see you, I doubt not,’ he told him, ‘I’ll warrant you will have little time for the old hypocrite.’

Henry was puzzled. ‘I liked him well,’ he said. ‘He tutored me, you know.’

‘Ah, my lord. That was when you were a young boy and could be easily deceived. How quickly you learned to see the truth. I’ll swear that you see this more quickly even than your noble father.’

‘It may be so,’ said Henry solemnly.

‘I said to my bishops, “Our lord, the young King, will see right through the old fellow when he comes trying to wheedle something out of him.”’

‘Why should he wheedle?’

‘Because, dear lord, you are who you are: our King.’

Henry smiled. ‘I could not help but like the fellow …’

‘Until you saw that he was a troublemaker. You saw it ere your father did, I warrant.’

Henry was silent. He supposed that Thomas was a troublemaker. His father and the Archbishop had quarrelled.

‘You know he has excommunicated those of us who took part in your coronation?’

‘Why so?’

‘Because he did not believe you should be crowned.’

‘And why should he presume to do that?’

‘Because he
is
presumption. He was against the coronation. There should be one king at a time, he says.’

‘Does he indeed! Then he will have to be taught otherwise.’

‘I knew you would think that, my lord. He has insulted you by his protests against the coronation. I’ll warrant you’ll not lose an opportunity of insulting him.’

Henry was thoughtful.

Thomas was travelling to Woodstock. What pleasure it would give him to embrace his pupil. He would see young Marguerite too. He had loved the pair of them dearly; and they had been eager to learn from him.

First he would pass through London and when he reached that city, his reception was as heartening as that which he had received in Canterbury.

The Bishop of Winchester received him in his Palace of Southwark and caused the bells to be rung for he was as good a friend as Roger of York was bad an enemy.

‘It warms my heart to see you back,’ he said. ‘And see what a welcome the people of London give you. You will overcome your enemies.’

When Thomas went into the streets people came to him and knelt on the cobbles for his blessing, but there was one distressing incident when a mad woman who called herself a prophetess ran amok through the crowd. ‘Beware of the knife, Archbishop,’ she kept crying. ‘Beware of the knife.’

They hustled her away and Thomas went on his progress. But that night his dreams were disturbed and in them he heard the old woman’s cry: ‘Beware of the knife.’

When he approached Woodstock, his good friend Abbot Simon of Saint Albans, who had travelled from his monastery to greet the Archbishop, said that he would go as messenger to the young King and tell him of the approach of his old friend and counsellor.

It saddened him when Simon returned with the news that the young King refused to see him, and that he had been told by one of Henry’s knights that there would be no welcome for Thomas Becket at Woodstock.

So he travelled back to Canterbury.

It was Christmas time and on Christmas Day at high Mass his text was ‘On earth peace to men of good will.’

He was full of foreboding.

Young Henry had been turned against him, and how could he know what was in the mind of his father?

Henry was at Bayeux when Roger of York and some of the excommunicated bishops arrived to see him.

The first thing he asked was: ‘How fares the Archbishop of Canterbury?’

‘As he always did, my lord,’ said Roger of York. ‘He is roaming the country and seeking to turn many of your subjects against you.’

‘How has he done that?’ demanded the King.

‘He has only to appear and the people shout for him. He poses as the martyr who has suffered greatly because of the King’s ill will.’

‘And his ill will towards me? What of that?’

‘He does not mention that, my lord. He poses as a saint. Many say he is. The people follow him wherever he goes. They kneel before him and they think that if he gives them his blessing their sins are forgiven them and they are sure of their place in Heaven. He declares the young King is no king for he should never have been crowned.’

‘He has preached this?’

‘Assuredly so, my lord. He has cursed all those who took part in the coronation. He will excommunicate them, he says.’

‘Then he will excommunicate me,’ said the King.

‘He has said
all
, my lord, and that would assuredly include you. He gathers multitudes wherever he goes. He is marching through England calling on the people to turn out the young King.’

‘By God’s eyes,’ said the King, ‘he has deceived me again. He is against me and mine.’

The rage was beginning to show in his eyes; he tore at his hair and pulled at the stuff of his doublet.