The History of England, Volume I Henry II Murder of Thomas à Becket
by David Hume
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 aroused, but which he had
endeavoured, 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 [s]. 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 revenge their prince's quarrel, secretly
withdrew from court [t]. 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 [u]: 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 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 connexions 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 honour, 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
the 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
manifestos 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.
[ [s] Gervase, p. 1414. Parker, p. 207. [t] M. Paris, p. 86.
Brompton, p. 1065. Benedict. Abbas, p. 10. [u] Hist. Quad. p. 144.
Trivet, p. 55.]
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 honours 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 [w]. 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 [x]: 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.
[ [w] Ypod. Neust. p. 447. M. Paris, p. 87. Diceto, p. 556.
Gervase, p. 1419. [x] Hist. Quad. p. 143.]
