An Island Story - H. E. Marshall (best books to read in your 20s .TXT) 📗
- Author: H. E. Marshall
- Performer: -
Book online «An Island Story - H. E. Marshall (best books to read in your 20s .TXT) 📗». Author H. E. Marshall
It is difficult to understand why he did this. Perhaps he thought that the Primate of all England, as the Archbishop of Canterbury is called, ought to be a very holy man, and he knew no other way of becoming holy, for in those days if a man fasted and went barefoot and wore coarse clothing it was thought that he must be a saint.
Thomas now wrote to the king and told him that he must find another chancellor, as he could not be archbishop and chancellor too. This was a great surprise and grief to the King. In those days it was nothing unusual for one man to be archbishop as well as chancellor. Henry had expected Thomas still to be chancellor and still to help him. He had merely made him primate so that he should help him more.
But that was only the beginning of the troubles.
The Bishop of Rome, whom we call the Pope, said that he was the head of the whole Christian Church, and that no one could be made a bishop in England without his consent. Henry said that he, the King, was the head of the English church, and he would make what bishops he chose. Thomas, instead of siding with the King, sided with the Pope, so they quarreled, as Thomas had warned Henry that they would.
In those days some of the clergy had grown very wicked. Instead of leading good lives, and being an example to others, they led bad lives. Priests and clergy who did wicked things were not judged by the same courts as other people. They were judged by a bishop’s court. Now a bishop’s court had no power to order any very severe punishment. If a priest killed a man, the worst that could happen to him would be that he would be beaten—not very hard—and have only bread and water to live on for a few days. Many wicked people became priests simply that they might be able to do as much wrong as they liked, without being punished for it.
Henry wished to put an end to this, so he said that all people who did wrong must be tried by the same judges, whether they were priests or not. But Thomas � Becket would not agree. Clergymen had always been judged by a bishop’s court, he said, and by a bishop’s court they should continue to be judged.
So the King and the primate quarreled worse than ever, till the quarrel grew so fierce, and the King so angry, that Thomas fled over the sea to escape from him.
After a time Henry forgave Thomas and he came back to England, but almost at once he again began to quarrel with the King. This time Henry lost all patience and, in a burst of anger, he exclaimed, “Are there none of the idle people who eat my bread that will free me from this quarrelsome priest?”
Henry was angry, and did not really mean what he said. But four knights heard, and thinking to please their king they took ship (for Henry was in Normandy at this time), crossed the sea to England, and rode to Canterbury. They found him almost alone. With angry words they told him that he must either promise not to quarrel with Henry or he must leave England.
“I shall do what I think is right,” replied Thomas. “If the King tells me to do things which I think are wrong, I will not obey him. I am the servant of God. God is higher than the King; I shall obey Him.”
This answer enraged the knights, and more angry words were spoken. Then they went away, telling Thomas to beware, for they would come again.
“You will find me here,” replied Thomas proudly. “Never again will I forsake my people.”
All the archbishop’s friends, and the monks and priests who lived with him, were very much afraid. They felt sure that these angry knights meant to do something dreadful. They begged Thomas to leave his house and take refuse in the cathedral, but he would not. “I said they would find me here,” he replied to all entreaties.
The day passed. The time for evening service came. Then only did Thomas consent to leave his house and go into the cathedral, for, said he, “It is my duty to lead the service.” The priests tried to hurry him, they tried to drag him along quickly, but Thomas would not hasten. He walked slowly and solemnly, having the great cross carried before him as usual. He feared no man.
When at last he was safe within the cathedral, the priests wished to lock and bar the doors. But Thomas forbade them. “This is not a fortress but the House of God, into which every one is free to enter. I forbid you to bar the doors,” he said.
The priests were in despair. They loved their archbishop, they knew that he was in danger, but he would not try to save himself.
Even as he spoke there was a great noise without. The door burst open, and the four knights, dressed in complete armor and carrying drawn swords in their hands, rushed into the cathedral.
The frightened people fled in all directions. The archbishop was left almost alone. Only three remained with him—his cross-bearer and two other faithful friends.
In the dim twilight which filled the cathedral it would have been easy for Thomas to escape. But he would not go. “I told them that they should find me here,” he said again to the monks who tried to drag him away.
Even as it was, the knights could not find him. In the gathering darkness they clanked and clanged through the great church, seeking him.
“Where is the traitor?” called one of them.
No one answered. Only the word “traitor” echoed again through the silence.
“Where is the archbishop?” he called again.
“I am here,” answered the voice of Thomas � Becket out of the darkness. “I am here; no traitor, but a servant of God. What do you want?”
They stood before him, four armed knights against one unarmed priest. Yet he was not afraid.
“Will you be at peace with the King?” asked the knights.
“What I have done I shall continue to do,” replied Thomas.
“Then die.”
The knights seized him and tried to drag him out of the cathedral, for they feared to kill him in a holy place.
But Thomas would not go. He held tightly to a pillar. His cross-bearer, still holding the cross, threw one arm round the archbishop, trying to protect him.
The knight who had first spoken struck at Thomas. The cross-bearer received the blow upon his arm, which dropped to his side broken. The next stroke fell on Thomas � Becket’s defenseless head.
In a few minutes all was over.
“In the name of Christ, and for the defense of the Church, I die willingly,” said Thomas, and spoke no more.
Then the knights, fearful of what they had done, fled, leaving the dead archbishop alone in the dark, silent cathedral.
HENRY PLANTAGENET—THE STORY OF THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND
WHEN Henry heard of what had happened to Thomas � Becket, he was very sorry; but strangely enough he had no power to punish the four knights; their sin was a sin against the Church, and they could only be tried by a bishop’s court. The bishop’s court punished them by sending them on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. So Thomas � Becket, in quarreling with the King, had protected his own murderers. But perhaps their punishment was very real, for they were forsaken and shunned by all their friends. No one would speak to them, nor eat with them, and at last they died in misery and loneliness.
All England was filled with horror at the dreadful deed. The people had loved Thomas when he was alive, now that he was dead they called him a saint. From far and near they came as pilgrims to his grave, over which a splendid shrine, glittering with gold and gems, was placed.
Nearly four years later the King himself came as a pilgrim to show his sorrow and repentance. He rode on horseback to Canterbury but, as soon as he came within sight of the cathedral, he got off his horse and walked barefoot, wearing only a shirt, and carrying a lighted candle in his hand, until he reached the shrine.
For a whole day and night, having nothing to eat or drink, he knelt in prayer before the grave. For a still greater punishment, he made the monks beat his bare back with knotted cords.
All this show of sorrow could not bring back the great archbishop, who had been murdered in consequence of a few words spoken in anger. But it pleased the Pope, who was very angry because Thomas � Becket had been killed. He blamed Henry, and would scarcely believe that he had not told the four knights to do the wicked deed. In those days the Pope was very powerful indeed. Even kings stood in awe of him, and Henry was glad to make peace with him by any means in his power.
Until now, in this book, we have spoken only of England, although England is but one of the countries which form the United Kingdom. Each of these countries has a history of its own, but it would be too difficult to tell all the stories in one book, so I shall tell only the story of each country after it has been joined to England.
There are four countries in the United Kingdom,—England, Scotland, Ireland and Wales. Of these, England and Ireland were the first to be joined together. This happened in the reign of Henry II., in 1172 A.D.
England, you remember, had at one time been divided into seven kingdoms, and in the same way Ireland was still divided into four, and the kings of these four divisions were always fighting with each other.
Now, one of these kings, who was called Dermot, came to Henry and asked for help against another of the Irish kings. Henry promised help if King Dermot would acknowledge him as “over-lord.” This, King Dermot said he would do. Henry was very glad to fight with the Irish, because he knew it would please the Pope, and perhaps make him forget about the death of Thomas � Becket. The Pope was angry with the Irish, because they would not pay him some money to which he thought he had a right.
Henry first sent some Norman knights over to Ireland, and then went himself. There was a good deal of fighting, but in the end Ireland was added to England, and ever since, the kings of England have been lords of Ireland too, although many years passed before they could be said really to rule there.
Henry’s great reign closed in sorrow. His sons did not love him, and they rebelled and fought against him. They were encouraged in this by their mother, who was not a good woman.
Two of Henry’s sons died before him, both of them while fighting with their father. Two others called Richard and John were kings of England after him.
John was Henry’s favorite son. He was the only one who had not rebelled against him. But when the King lay very ill the nobles came to tell him that John, too, had rebelled. This last sorrow broke Henry’s heart. Crying out, “Ah, John, John, now I care no more for myself, nor for the world,” he turned his face to the wall,
Comments (0)