He had risen from his seat, and all the bishops had done likewise; followed by his priests, he strode slowly across the room; the courtiers insulted him and threw at him the bundles of straw which covered the floor. Somebody called out "traitor." "Were it not for the garments which I wear, that coward would repent his insolence," said the archbishop, who then mounted his horse, while he was saluted by the cries of the people who were prostrating themselves and asking his benediction. The prelate caused the doors of the monastery in which he resided to be opened, and the poor entered in crowds, the archbishop giving them a supper, and sitting down to table with them himself.
The Scriptures were being read, and Becket was struck by these words of the Lord: "If you are persecuted in one town, fly to another." He sent to the king for a passport. "You shall be answered to-morrow," was the message sent back from the palace. The friends of Becket were in great fear. "This night will be your last if you do not fly," said the clergy. The archbishop at length decided to leave England. Mounted on horseback, and accompanied by three priests, he set out in the direction of Kent, amidst torrents of rain that compelled him to cut off the skirts of his long mantle, which were wet and heavy and were irksome to him. He wandered about in the disguise of a monk, and under the name of Brother Christian, during twenty days in Kent, meeting with many adventures. At length he procured a little vessel, and landed on the 2nd of November, 1164, in the countship of Boulogne, near Gravelines, whence he repaired on foot and in the same disguise, to the convent of Saint-Bertin, near Namur.
The fugitive's first thought was to ask shelter of the King of France and protection of Pope Alexander II., who was then residing at Sens; the anti-Pope Victor held possession of Rome. The ambassadors of Henry II. had preceded Becket at both courts; but Louis the Young, an enemy to the King of England and therefore unwilling to do the latter a service, haughtily declared that it was the ancient privilege of the French crown to succor the oppressed against their persecutors. The Pope at first received Becket's representative rather coldly; but he ended by deciding to brave the anger of Henry II. and received the fallen archbishop with great kindness. "If I had been willing to do the bidding of the king in all things," said Becket, "nobody in his kingdom would now be as great as I; but I know that I obtained through him the position which I occupy to the prejudice of the liberty of the Church; that is the reason that I throw myself at your Holiness's feet; your Holiness must appoint a new primate of England." The Pope did not accept this resignation, and having caused the Constitutions of Clarendon to be read to the prelate, he condemned them, with the exception of six clauses; then raising the archbishop, whom he had reinvested with his ecclesiastical dignity, "Go," said he, "and learn in poverty to console the poor." The Pope assigned the abbey of Pontigny to him as his residence, and authorized him to excommunicate the enemies of the Church.
When Henry heard of the success of his adversary, his anger knew no bounds; not only did he confiscate both the goods and revenues of Becket and the priests who had followed him, but he included in his revenge all the members of the archbishop's family as well as all his friends. He proscribed more than four hundred persons, men, women, and children, whom he sent, divested of everything, to Becket, to complain of the misfortune which he had brought upon them. Every day these unhappy people would present themselves at the convent of Pontigny, breaking the heart of the archbishop, who found no rest until the time when the combined charity of King Louis, the Pope, and the Queen of Sicily, provided for the necessities of the exiles.
Meanwhile, King Henry had on hand grave affairs which would soon have made him forget his grievances against the archbishop, if he had been of a less vindictive disposition. The Welsh had revolted, and the war against them had been unfortunate in consequence of bad weather; the king had consoled himself for this by causing the noses of the hostages to be cut off and their eyes destroyed; but this was not sufficient to appease his anger. He found satisfaction in Brittany, where he profited by the rebellion against Conan. Henry took advantage of it to seize upon the country. He celebrated, in 1166, the marriage of his son Geoffrey with Constance. Brittany was pacified, but Becket had just excommunicated all those who held the property of the Church, and particularly several of the king's favorites, whom he mentioned by name.
When Henry heard this news, he was at Chinon, near Tours. His anger was so violent that he threw himself upon his bed, tearing the clothes, biting the straw of the mattress and howling with rage. He immediately informed the abbot of Pontigny that if the order of Cistercians wished to retain their property in the provinces dependent on the King of England, he must refuse the shelter of his house to the enemy who so haughtily defied his sovereign. The abbot went and saw Becket. "God forbid that upon such injunctions the chapter should think of sending you away," he said; "consider for yourself what you had better do." The archbishop immediately made preparation to leave the place, and went to the convent of Saint Colomba near Sens, where King Louis had ordered that he should be received (1168).
Up to this period political considerations had created an ill-feeling between the King of France and the King of England, and in this lay Becket's security; in 1169 similar influences brought them to an understanding. They met at a solemn conference at Montmirail, and when the young princes, Henry's sons, had done homage to the King of France for Normandy, Aquitaine, and Brittany, the case of Becket was considered, and he was ordered to appear before the august assembly. The archbishop was growing weary of his exile, and his protectors were growing weary of defending him. It was therefore hoped that he would tender his submission, in order to end the struggle. Becket presented himself before King Henry with a grave and modest air. Bending his knee, the archbishop said, "My liege, in all the disputes which have taken place between us, I submit to your judgment, as arbitrary sovereign in all points, except the honor of God." Immediately this restriction was uttered, the king burst into a passion, and turning towards King Louis, "Do you know," he cried, "what would happen if I were to accept this reservation? Everything that should displease him would be contrary to the honor of God, and I should lose all power. There have been archbishops at Canterbury much more pious than he, and there have been kings in England less powerful than I; let him only treat me as the least pious of his predecessors treated the smallest of mine, and I shall be satisfied." "Save the honor of God," repeated the archbishop. The assembly cried out aloud that it was past endurance, that the king could ask no less, and that Becket was too exacting. "Do you wish then to be more than a saint?" asked Louis angrily, but he got no further concession; and the two kings remounted their horses without taking leave of the archbishop, whose fate was now very much harder by reason of the estrangement of the King of France. He was reduced to live by alms, until the day when Louis again sent for him. "It is to banish us from his dominions," the clergy said, in alarm; but scarcely had the king seen the archbishop when he threw himself in his arms. "Forgive me, father," he cried, "you are right, we were mistaken; we wished to subject the honor of God to the will of a man. Absolve me." Henry had failed to fulfil his contracts with King Louis, who had thereupon hastened to express his approval of Becket's conduct.