The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [133]
I did not think Thomas would do that. He would consider he had failed the Church if he did. He would want to stand firm and fight the good fight for the sake of the Church.
He did, however, make two attempts to escape during that summer, I heard afterward. On one occasion he disguised himself as a monk and with only a few of his loyal servants rode to Romney, where a boat was to have been waiting to take him across the water to enjoy that hospitality which Louis had promised him. However, the elements were against him, and the boatmen would not risk their lives trying to cross on such seas. I wondered what he thought of God’s being so careless as not to arrange better weather for His chosen one. He would always have an answer, such as “God has other plans for me.”
He could not stay in Romney and had to return to his palace. When he arrived late at night, his servants thought he was a ghost and some terrible fate had befallen him. They were terrified but at last he was able to persuade them that he was no ghost and they let him in; he was their own Archbishop and was still with them because it was God’s will that this should be so.
Then came an opportunity to summon him to the court.
One of Henry’s officers, John the Marshal, brought an action against the Archbishop’s court. There had been a dispute over a piece of land in Pagham in Sussex, which John claimed as his; but it happened to be on Church land and the Church disputed John’s claim to it. Then a court, set up by the Church, heard the case and set aside John’s claim. Under the new law John could contest the case and have it tried in the King’s court.
Henry was delighted, for here was a chance to come once more into conflict with the Archbishop.
The court was to be held at Westminster, and Henry, with great glee, summoned Becket to appear.
On the day set for the hearing, Becket did not arrive in court. He sent a message to say he was unwell.
Henry did not intend to spare him, though Becket had sent four knights and a sheriff with the letter in which he stated he was too unwell to attend court, and the case ought not to be brought, as John the Marshal had taken his oath on a hymn book instead of the Bible.
Henry then declared that he did not believe in Becket’s illness. He said Becket need not think he was going to escape. The suit should be held on October 6, which was a few weeks later, and it should take place at Northampton, where we should be at that time.
Henry had worked himself up into a passion, certain that Becket had been well enough to attend on the previous occasion, and when he was in court and Becket put forward his case, Henry refused to listen and accused him of contempt of court. He demanded that sentence be passed against him.
Henry was so fierce in his accusations that those who were to judge took fright and, realizing that he wanted Becket found guilty, condemned him to be “at the King’s mercy.” This generally meant that he would be required to give up all his goods to the King, but in most cases it was a figure of speech and merely meant the imposition of a fine.
But Henry wanted more than that. He wanted the sentence carried out to the letter. He sent his demands, which were enormous, referring back to the time when Becket had been Chancellor and money had passed into his hands. Everything must be accounted for. It was clear that the King’s intention was to ruin Becket.
Sick and emaciated from insufficient nourishment, Becket was ill again and could not appear in court to face more charges. When he did not arrive, Henry humiliated him by sending several men to his chambers to be assured that the Archbishop was not malingering.
I think at that time Becket wanted to be a martyr. His feelings for the King must have been as strong as Henry’s for him, and in my opinion he wanted to goad Henry into doing something which would cause him lifelong regret. He came into the court, barefoot and carrying his own cross, implying that it was his only protection against a tyrant. I heard that his advisers clustered