The Courts of Love - Jean Plaidy [151]
Thomas, greatly fearing treachery, delayed a little longer, and it was not until the end of November that he set sail from Wissant, arriving on December 1, at Sandwich, from where he made his way to Canterbury. The people, warned of his coming, crowded into the streets to greet him; hymns were sung; bells rang out. Canterbury wanted all to know how it rejoiced in the return of its Archbishop.
On the other hand, some of the King’s officers were waiting for him. They demanded the immediate and unconditional absolution of those who had been suspended on account of the young King’s coronation. Thomas replied that he would absolve all except the Archbishop of York, if they would swear to obey the Pope’s orders.
Henry was spending Christmas at Bures, near Bayeux. I suppose everyone knows of that fatal Christmas and its aftermath. I was glad I was not there when this was happening. There I was, happy in my Court, with my troubadours about me, while Henry was stepping deep into a tragedy which would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Christmas at Bures. I could imagine it. Henry would be in good spirits—just for the festive season, forgetting his worries. His eyes would be roaming around the room, looking for a suitable bedfellow. There would be jollity, music, games, Christmas fun.
Thomas was back in England. I guessed that was a relief to Henry. Thomas in exile had been mettlesome; in England it would be easier to keep an eye on him. He would not have the same freedom to consort with the King’s enemies . . . with Louis and the Pope.
Yes, it should have been a good Christmas. He had achieved his longed-for wish in getting his son crowned; the others had all been acknowledged in their various domains. He must have been feeling pleased with himself.
Then there were visitors to the feast. I heard several versions of what happened and it was something like this:
Roger of York with the suspended bishops arrived. They had come to complain of Becket’s latest ultimatum and insistence that they obey the Pope. Henry’s first thoughts on seeing them would turn to Becket. He wanted to know that he had arrived in England and how he fared.
That gave Roger his chance. He replied that Becket was back and was the same as ever; he was roaming the countryside seeking to rally the King’s enemies against them. Becket was very popular; he only had to appear and the people were shouting for him. He had made an effort to see the new King, taking presents with him and of course intending to turn him against his father.
I could picture Henry’s brows drawn together and the color beginning to rise in his face. Perhaps even then he was realizing the folly of his act.
But before Thomas had reached Winchester he had been stopped and ordered by young Henry to go back to Canterbury and perform his sacred ministry. He now declared that the young King was no king, for the ceremony of crowning could be performed only by the Archbishop of Canterbury—himself. He cursed all those who had taken part in the coronation. All. That meant Henry himself.
The rage would have been imminent, but Henry would hold it off. He needed to know more of Thomas’s alleged perfidy.
Roger of York said: “As long as this man lives, you will have no peace in your realm, my lord.”
Henry’s rage would be getting the better of him. He shouted: “So they tell me . . . a fellow who has eaten my bread now lifts his heel against me. When he first came to my Court, it was on a lame horse and he had a cloak for a saddle. And he would rule my realm. And you . . . you look on . . . you permit this to be. Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?”
Four of Henry’s knights listened to his words. They were Hugh de Morville, William de Tracy, Reginald Fitzurse and Richard le Breton. Their names will be long remembered.
What happened on the dismal Tuesday afternoon of December 29 of the year 1170 is known throughout the world. I often visualize the scene, constructing it from the many accounts I have heard:
Those four knights coming into