Текст книги "The Plantagenet Prelude "
Автор книги: Jean Plaidy
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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 23 страниц)
In the draughty castle he grew very ill and in his delirium he talked of the Countess of Warenne and how he no longer wished to live because he had been unable to marry her.
When he died Matilda, wild with grief, proclaimed that Thomas Becket had killed her son.
She wrote at once to Henry. ‘Your brother is dead. Life was no longer worth living for him when he lost the woman he loved. Your Archbishop has done this.’
When the news reached Henry he was stunned. William was but a young man – younger than he was!
And he was dead! Was it possible to die of love? His mother declared it was. ‘If he had been allowed to marry the woman he loved this would never have happened to him,’ she insisted.
Nor would it, thought Henry. His wife would have cared for him for she loved him. But Thomas Becket would not permit the marriage to take place, and now my brother William is dead! You have a lot to answer for, Thomas Becket, and this is something I shall never forget nor forgive.
Chapter XII
THE KING’S TRIUMPH
Henry could not stop thinking of Becket. Sometimes he would awake from a dream in which they had been the friends they used to be when they were King and Chancellor together. No one could amuse him as Becket had done. He could find little pleasure in the company of others. Even at Woodstock he would find himself thinking of Becket.
The man seemed determined to plague him. What had happened to him? He had grown serious – the churchman had completely superseded the gay reveller, for Becket had been gay. How he had loved to sit at his table and look at the fine plate he possessed and the magnificent livery of his servants! If he himself ate frugally and drank little it had not mattered. It had been part of the eccentricity of the man which Henry had found so attractive.
Was there a way, he wondered, in which they could be reconciled? If only Becket would give way to his wishes the whole Church would follow him. As for the Pope, he was not in too happy a position and could make little trouble. Henry could reform the Church in his country and Alexander could not afford to raise a voice against him.
He decided to see Thomas and he sent a command for him to meet him at Northampton.
When the King arrived with his great retinue he sent a message to Thomas to stay where he was, for it would be impossible for the town to accommodate two great parties such as theirs would be.
And I doubt not, thought the King angrily, that your party is as grand and as great as mine for you were ever a lover of ostentation, my Archbishop.
They met in a field and Thomas rode his horse to meet that of the King. For a moment they remained looking at each other, and the knowledge of the great friendship which had once been theirs swept over them both so that it was an emotional moment.
Then the King said: ‘Dismount. We will walk and talk.’
This they did and the King took Thomas’s arm as he said, ‘I marvel you have forgotten all the favours I have shown you. I wonder how you could be so ungrateful as to oppose me in everything.’
‘My lord, I am not ungrateful for favours received from you alone nor from God through you. I would never resist your
will as long as it is also the will of God. You are my lord. But God is your Lord and mine also and it would be good for neither of us if I should leave His will for yours. One day we shall both stand before Him to be judged.’
The King made an impatient movement but Thomas would not be silenced. He went on: ‘St Peter says we must obey God rather than man. And although I would obey the wishes of my King whenever it was possible I could not do so if they went against my duty to God.’
‘Pray do not preach me sermons,’ retorted Henry. ‘I have not come here for that.’
‘I do not intend to preach, my lord, only to tell you what is my mind concerning these matters.’
‘And what think you is in my mind? Is the King to be tutored by one of his rustics?’
‘You refer to my humble birth. It is true I am not royal. St Peter was not royal either but God gave him the keys of Heaven and made him the head of the Catholic Church.’
‘That is true,’ said the King. ‘But then he died for his Lord.’
‘I will die for my Lord when the time comes.’
‘You have risen high and you think that because of this which has come to you through my goodness you are of such importance that you may defy me. Do not trust too much in my friendship.’
‘I trust in the Lord,’ said Thomas soberly, ‘for foolish is the man who puts his trust in men.’
‘Enough of this, Thomas. We are almost in agreement. I just wish you to swear to serve your King.’
‘So will I, but only when serving him does not conflict with the will of God.’
‘Only when...! I will not have conditions. Swear to serve your King.’
‘I could not...without that condition.’
‘I have tried to reason with you, but you will not be reasoned with. Because of the friendship I once felt for you and could feel again, I have met you here. I wished to speak to you in person. I am offering to accept you again, Thomas, that things may be as they once were before between us. I have been fond of you. I miss you. Do you remember how amusing life was when we were together?
Come Thomas. All you have to do is say a few words. Say them, Thomas, and all will be well.’
‘I cannot say what you wish, my lord, for as I see it to do so would be to deny my God.’
‘A plague on your sermons and a plague on you, Becket.
I have raised you up. So could I put you back. Think of that, rustic. And remember you stand against the King.’
With that he turned and left Thomas.
There was only one thing to be done and that was to appeal to the Pope. In France news of the conflict between King and Archbishop had already been received. Louis sent letters of encouragement to Thomas and hinted that if he should find it impossible to go on living in England there would be a welcome for him in France.
The position of the Pope was not a very happy one. The Emperor of Germany had joined forces with his rival and had forced Alexander to leave Italy. He was now residing uneasily in France. He was afraid to offend Henry as he had been on other occasions. At the same time he believed that Thomas was in the right.
But it came to his ears that Henry Plantagenet had uttered threats against him and because of his very precarious position he could not face any opposition from that quarter. Wanting to applaud Becket he must yet placate the King, who had already written his account of the matter.
The Pope would understand, wrote Henry, that a King could not tolerate what appeared to be disobedience in any of his subjects be they priests or merchants. All he wished was a statement from the Archbishop to the effect that he would serve his King in all ways, and this he must have for the sake of his kingly dignity. Neither the Pope nor the Archbishop must think for one moment that he would take advantage of this. He wanted to see a strong Church. He knew full well that it was their religious beliefs that kept men virtuous. Did they think he wanted a nation of thieves and robbers and irreligious men? Not he! But a king could not have it be known that some of his subjects believed they could defy him; ay, and had boasted of it in public.
The Pope wrote to Thomas to the effect that he believed there should be moderation and submission for thus he was sure that Thomas could avert great trouble which would bring no good to the Church. He commanded Thomas to submit to the King for, he added, he believed the King would accept nothing else and this was not the time for the Church to quarrel with the King of England.
When he received this letter, Thomas was astonished and depressed. He must obey the Pope.
He discovered that the King was at Woodstock, and there in his palace Henry agreed to see him.
Henry was in a good mood. He invariably was at Woodstock, and when he heard that Thomas was asking for an audience he received him at once.
‘Well, Thomas?’
‘My lord, I have heard from His Holiness.’
‘And what instructions have you had from him?’ asked the King.
‘He tells me that I must do as you wish. I must agree to serve you wholeheartedly.’
‘Ah,’ said the King. ‘So our little trouble is over. You have decided to pay me the homage due to your King?’
‘The Pope has sent his command.’
‘He had wisdom enough for that,’ said Henry with a laugh.
‘I cannot disobey him.’
‘But you don’t agree with him?’ cried Henry.
‘I think I was right in what I did.’
‘But you will now withdraw. That is better. You will swear absolute allegiance to your King.’
‘I do,’ said Thomas, ‘for I am instructed by the Pope that this assurance is only to preserve your dignity and you will not put into action any reforms regarding the Church.’
‘You have sworn, Thomas.’
‘Yes, my lord.’
‘That is good. You have sworn to me in private, but because you declared your disobedience in public, in public must you swear your allegiance. Farewell, Thomas.
We shall meet soon. I shall summon you to Clarendon where you may make your oath of submission publicly.’
No sooner had Thomas received the King’s summons to Clarendon than he began to question what he had done.
The Pope was in a difficult position; he had advised him to submit to Henry because he feared the King’s antagonism. Thomas should never have taken his advice.
He knew Henry well. Who should know him better? During the years when he had been his Chancellor and they had roamed the countryside together he had become familiar with every twist and turn of that violent nature. When Henry had made up his mind to have something, he was going to have it. He would lie, cheat, fight, threaten to do anything to obtain it. He had no scruples and now it was clear that he had made a vow that he was going to subdue his one-time friend and Chancellor. He had to show Thomas that he was his superior. It had always been so in their games and practical jokes. Henry liked a good adversary that he might glean more glory in victory.
His promises that he had no wish to interfere with the Church meant nothing. Of course he wanted to interfere with the Church. He wanted to bring it to heel as he did his dogs. He was going to make the Church serve the State.
He might pay lip service to the Pope, but everyone in the kingdom be they bishops or archbishops must learn that he was master.
And Thomas had privately agreed to accept his rule in all matters – because a weak Pope had been afraid to order him to do otherwise.
Thomas spent hours on his knees in prayer. His hair shirt tortured him, even more than it would most men for his poor circulation made his skin extra sensitive. Yet he did this penance in the hope that he might expiate his sins and win God’s help. He thought of his pride when Richer de L’Aigle had taken him to Pevensey, and the joy he had found in living the life of a nobleman. He thought of his rich garments, his cloaks lined with fur, his velvet doublets, the delight he had taken in being the King’s constant companion. Earthly vanity that had been. Was he being asked to pay for it now?
As soon as he had become Archbishop of Canterbury he had changed. His love of luxury had abated for he had seen the folly of it. He remembered how he had turned his face from Canterbury, how he had tried so hard not to take the post, for he knew it would be an end to the merry life.
And now his feet were firmly placed on a path which he must follow, for it was his destiny.
He trusted that God would show him what to do at Clarendon for he knew what happened there was going to affect his future for good or ill.
In the great hall, Henry was seated in the centre of the dais and on his left hand was his son, young Henry, who was nine years old.
The boy’s eyes lit up at the sight of Thomas and the Archbishop’s heart warmed to him. There was one who loved him. He did not meet the King’s eyes but he knew that the elder Henry watched him covertly.
As Primate he took the place on the right hand of the King – the second most important post in the kingdom.
There were the bishops all assembled and among them the Archbishop of York, Roger de Pont l’Evêque. Roger could not hide his satisfaction. He would be remembering the old days in the household of Theobald when a certain young man – not of noble birth – had joined the young men there and won the old Archbishop’s affection as none of the others had done. Roger had done his best to appease his envy by getting Thomas expelled; he had succeeded in this on two occasions but when Thomas had been recalled he was in higher favour than ever. How envious Roger must have been when he heard of the King’s friendship with the man he hated! People used to say in those days: The King loves the Chancellor more than any other living being.
And now here was triumph, for everyone in that hall knew that they had been assembled to witness the public humiliation of the King’s one-time beloved friend.
Yet Thomas had his sympathisers there – mellow men, men of integrity. One was Henry of Winchester, brother of King Stephen, a man who had once had great ambitions, but who had long discarded them realising their emptiness.
He knew the nature of the King and that of Thomas too. The Earl of Leicester and Richard de Luci were good honest men who served the King well. They would not go against Henry but they did not wish to see such a man as Thomas Becket humiliated. They understood his scruples and applauded them and would rather that it had not been necessary to call this meeting.
If Thomas knew the King, the King knew Thomas. He was well aware that Thomas had given him his verbal promise because as a churchman he had believed he must obey the Pope. It was a slip, Thomas, thought the King exultantly. Your poor weak Pope trembled for his own skin, and you fell into the trap. And now you regret it. And you can well refuse to take the oath in public. And I know you well. I know your eloquence. I know that you could sway a multitude to your way of thinking. Look around the hall, Thomas. See the armed men I have had stationed here.
Others see them. They will know for what purpose they are here. There is not a man in this hall who would dare offend his King, Thomas. Except perhaps you. Consider the folly of it, Thomas.
He himself opened the meeting.
The Archbishop of Canterbury, he said, had come to swear before them all that he would unconditionally serve his King.
Thomas rose from his seat.
‘My lord,’ he said. ‘I will swear to serve my King when that service does not conflict with my duty to the Church.’
The King’s face was scarlet, his eyes blazed and every man in the hall save Thomas trembled. Thomas felt only exultation, for he had done what he believed was right. He had feared that in that assembly he might have quailed, but he had come through safely, and he felt he was sustained by God.
Henry’s fury broke forth. So great was his rage that he was incoherent. He could only fling abuse at his Archbishop. Thomas remained calm and pale as though he did not hear the King.
Nor did he. He was thinking, I have taken the first step.
Whatever happens to me I must accept. If it is death then it will soon be over and I shall have died for God and the Church.
The King suddenly strode out of the hall. His son took a trembling look at Thomas and followed him. Thomas caught the cynical eye of the Archbishop of York, who in those seconds could not disguise his pleasure.
Thomas made his way to his lodging that he might meditate and pray for strength to go on as he had begun. It was not long before Joceline, Bishop of Salisbury and Roger, Bishop of Worcester called on him.
‘Come in, my friends,’ said Thomas.
They came in and regarded him with fearful eyes.
‘We implore you, my lord,’ said the Bishop of Salisbury,
‘to make your peace with the King.’
‘I do not wish to be at war with the King,’ answered Thomas.
‘He will kill us all if you do not take the oath, my lord.’
‘Then we must die. It will not be the first time that men have died for the Church of God. Countless hosts of saints have taught us by word and example: God’s will be done.’
‘You have seen the King’s mood. You saw the armed men who filled the hall.’
‘I saw them,’ said Thomas. ‘Pray for courage. It may be that our hour has come. If so, our only fear must be that we may lack the courage to face it. Pray for that courage. God will not fail you.’
They went away sorrowing and in great fear. Then came the Earl of Leicester and the King’s uncle, the Earl of Cornwall.
‘The King considers himself to have been insulted,’ said Leicester. ‘He declares he will be avenged.’
‘Then avenged he must be.’
‘You have only to swear that you will give absolute obedience to the King.’
‘I am a man of the Church.’
‘The King declares that you have promised him in private to serve him.’
‘I told him that the Pope had advised me to.’
‘We advise you too, my lord. We are your friends. We deplore this quarrel between you and the King.’
‘I know you to be my good friends and I thank you for it. I know you to be wise men. It is easy for you to swear to serve the King absolutely because you have not given your allegiance to the Church. I have told the King that I will obey him in all temporal matters. It is only when his will conflicts with that of Holy Church that I must disobey him and follow my true Master.’
‘The King is in an ugly mood.’
‘I know those moods well. Many times have I witnessed them.’
‘Never before were they directed in earnest against you.’
‘I know that the King is a man who will not be crossed. He will have what he wants and if he wants my blood I doubt not that he will have it.’
‘He does not want your blood, only your obedience.’
‘But if I cannot give him what he asks?’
‘We fear, my lord, that we may be called upon to do you to death. That would to us be a crime, but we must perforce commit it if it is the King’s command that we should.’
‘Ah, gentlemen, that is a matter for your consciences.’
‘If you would but swear...’
‘Nay, my lords. That is something I cannot do. Leave me now. Go to the quiet of your chambers and pray that when your hour of decision comes God will enable you to do what is right.’
Thomas was still on his knees when there was yet another visitor. This was the Grand Master of the English Templars, Richard of Hastings, and with him came another of the Templars, Hostes of Boulogne.
These were holy men and Thomas trusted them. They were in the King’s confidence and assured Thomas that they knew his mind and that he had talked to them of his true feelings.
‘The King has a deep affection for you still, my lord Archbishop,’ said Richard of Hastings. ‘He wishes us to be his mediators. He says you will readily understand the position in which by the stubbornness of your determination and the violence of his temper you have been placed. This matter has gone so far that he cannot retreat. It would seem weak in a king, who having shown what he says he is determined to have, to accept something less. He has sworn to us that he wishes only to have your oath in public and if you will give it he will not tamper with the laws of the Church.’
‘Is this indeed so?’ asked Thomas.
‘He has sworn it is so.’
‘He does not always keep his promises.’
‘He has asked what good would come to the realm if he had an open quarrel with the Church. What harm would
come if he quarreled with his Primate so as to make a rift between the State and the Church? The King wants a reconciliation with you. If you will but return to the hall and give him what he wants you need have no fear. The King has given his word. But you must swear in public to take the oath of absolute obedience to the Crown.’
‘You have indeed come from the King?’
‘We have indeed.’
‘And he has sworn that he will keep to his promises not to interfere in Church matters?’
‘He has sworn.’
‘Then I will send for my bishops and tell them that on your advice and assurances I can make this oath in public.’
Thomas returned to the hall. The Archbishop of York watched him cynically while the others looked as though a great burden had fallen from their shoulders.
The King was almost merry. His eyes were kindly and full of affection as he turned to his Archbishop of Canterbury.
Thomas rose to his feet and swore to the assembly that he would obey the customs of the realm in good faith.
‘You have all heard what the Archbishop has promised me on his own part,’ cried the King in a loud voice. ‘Now it only remains that at his bidding the other bishops should do the same.’
‘I will that they satisfy your honour as I have done,’ said Thomas.
All the bishops rose and made their promise. Only Joceline Bishop of Salisbury hesitated and looked at Thomas.
‘What ails you, my lord Bishop of Salisbury?’ roared the King.
‘You are sure, my lord,’ asked the bishop looking at Thomas, ‘that it is right for me to take this oath?’
‘By God’s eyes,’ cried the King, ‘that man is ever against me.’
His eyes narrowed and he had turned to one of his armed soldiers.
Thomas said quickly: ‘You should take the oath, my lord, as we all have done.’ And forthwith Joceline of Salisbury took the oath.
‘Now,’ cried the King, ‘everyone here has heard the promises the archbishops and bishops have made that the laws and customs of my kingdom shall be observed. In order that there may be no further dispute on the subject, let my grandfather Henry’s laws be committed to writing.’
The meeting ended in triumph for the King.
