Beautiful Britain | Page 6

to Dean Stanley's
"Historical Memorials of Canterbury." It was in the same year and the
same month as his death that Becket had returned from exile to
Canterbury after an absence of six years, and at the close of a decade of
continual struggle with the King. The Archbishop, having landed at
Sandwich on his arrival from France, had been received with the
greatest enthusiasm, and the people of Canterbury showed their delight
in every possible manner. There were imposing banquets, and hangings
of silk were put up in the cathedral for the great occasion; but at the end
of this December, on the gloomy afternoon of the 29th, the four
murderers arrived in the city. The day was a Tuesday, the day on which
all the great events of Becket's life had taken place; for not only had he
been born on a Tuesday, but on that day he had been exiled, on that day
he had been warned of his impending martyrdom, and on that day he
had returned from exile.
[Illustration: THE "ANGEL" OR "BELL HARRY" TOWER AND
THE BAPTISTERY. The massive Norman work is seen here in strong
contrast with the lightness and delicacy of the Perpendicular tower.]
While leaving the long story to be told with the amazingly ample detail
Dean Stanley was able to employ, one is tempted to quote his account
of the first interview between Becket and the four knights, for too often

the memory recalls nearly every fact of the murder except the
indictment, if it may be so called. The four knights had discarded their
weapons and concealed their armour under the cloak and gown of
ordinary life on entering the cathedral precincts, so that on their first
appearance in the Archbishop's private room their aspect was sinister
without being immediately threatening. Becket had just finished dinner,
and was seated on his couch talking to his friends when the four
knights were announced, and he pointedly continued, his conversation
with the monk who sat by him and on whose shoulder he was leaning.
They on their part entered without a word, beyond a greeting
exchanged in a whisper to the attendants who stood near the door, and
then marched straight to where the Archbishop sate, and placed
themselves on the floor at his feet, among the clergy who were
reclining around. Radulf the archer sate behind them, on the boards.
Becket now turned round for the first time, and gazed steadfastly on
each in silence, which he at last broke by saluting Tracy by name. The
conspirators continued to look mutely at each other, till Fitzurse, who
throughout took the lead, replied with a scornful expression, "God help
you!" Becket's face grew crimson, and he glanced round at their
countenances, which seemed to gather fire from Fitzurse's speech.
Fitzurse again broke forth: "We have a message from the King over the
water--tell us whether you will hear it in private, or in the hearing of
all." "As you wish," said the Archbishop. "Nay, as you wish," said
Fitzurse. "Nay, as you wish," said Becket. The monks, at the
Archbishop's intimation, withdrew into an adjoining room; but the
doorkeeper ran up and kept the door ajar, that they might see from the
outside what was going on.
Before the knights began the recital of their complaints, however,
Becket appears to have become alarmed at the demeanour of the four
men, who afterwards admitted that they thought of killing him then and
there with the only weapon that was handy--a cross-staff that lay at his
feet.
The monks hurried back, and Fitzurse, apparently calmed by their
presence, resumed his statement of the complaints of the King. The

complaints--which are given by the various chroniclers in very different
words--were three in number. "The King over the water commands you
to perform your duty to the King on this side of the water, instead of
taking away his crown." "Rather than take away his crown," replied
Becket, "I would give him three or four crowns." "You have excited
disturbances in the kingdom, and the King requires you to answer for
them at his court." "Never," said the Archbishop, "shall the sea again
come between me and my Church, unless I am dragged thence by the
feet." "You have excommunicated the bishops, and you must absolve
them." "It was not I," replied Becket, "but the Pope, and you must go to
him for absolution."
[Illustration: THE CHAPEL OF "OUR LADY" IN THE
UNDERCROFT OF THE CATHEDRAL. Being entirely above the
ground this is not a crypt as it is so often miscalled. The morning light
in winter fills the spaces between the massive Norman piers.]
After some more stormy words the knights became irritated by Becket's
contradictions, and swore "by God's wounds" that they had endured
enough,