Every day, when the archbishop arose from dinner, unless more important business prevented him, he always devoted himself to reading the Scriptures until the hour of vespers at the time of sunset. His bed was covered with soft coverlets and cloths of silk, embroidered on the surface with gold wrought therein; and while other persons were asleep, he alone used to lie on the bare floor before his bed, repeating psalms and hymns, and never ceasing from prayers, until at last, overcome with fatigue, he would gradually recline his head upon a stone, put beneath it in place of a pillow: and thus would his eyes enjoy sleep, while his heart was ever watchful for the Lord. His inner garment was of coarse sackcloth, made of goat's hair, with which his whole body was covered, from the arms down to the knees. But his outer garments were remarkable for their splendour and extreme costliness, to the end that, thus deceiving human eyes, he might please the sight of God. There was no individual acquainted with this secret of his way of living, with the exception of two—one of whom was Robert, Canon of Merton, his chaplain, and the name of the other was Brun, who had charge of his sackcloth garments, and washed them when necessary; and they were bound by their words and oaths that, during his life, they would disclose these facts to no one.
BECKET'S DEATH (1171).
Source.—Roger de Hoveden, Vol. I., pp. 335, 336. Bohn's Libraries. G. Bell & Sons.
Hardly had the father been residing one month in his see, when lo! on the fifth day of the feast of the Nativity of our Lord, there came to Canterbury four knights, or rather sworn satellites of Satan, whose names were as follows: William de Tracy, Hugh de Morville, Richard Briton, and Reginald Fitz-Urse, men of families remarkable for their respectability, but destined, by their daring to commit so enormous a crime, to blemish the glories of knighthood and the honours of their ancestors with perpetual ignominy. Accordingly, these persons made their way into the presence of the archbishop, and, as nothing salutary was the object of their message, in the malice they had conceived they omitted pronouncing any salutation, and addressed him in an insolent and haughty manner. Threats were exchanged on both sides and threat was answered with threat.
Now, the archbishop, with meekness and self-possession, had gone before them to the choir of the church, the monks having entreated, nay, forced him, on account of the solemnity of the season, to perform the service at vespers. When he perceived these armed men behind him, in the middle of the cloisters, it might have been expected that their own malignant feelings would have warned them to leave the church; but, neither did reverence for the solemn occasion dissuade them from their crime, nor the innocence of the patriarch prevent them from shedding his blood. Indeed, so entirely had their shameless determination to perpetrate the crime taken possession of them and blinded them, that they neither regarded the disgrace to their knighthood, nor took account of any danger. Therefore, following the archbishop with headlong and heedless steps, with drawn swords, they entered the church, and furiously cried aloud: "Where is this traitor?" After which, no one making answer, they repeated, "Where is the archbishop?" Upon this he, the confessor, and, shortly to be, the martyr in the cause of Christ, being sensible that under the first name he was falsely charged, and that, by virtue of his office, the other belonged to him, came down from the steps to meet them, and said: "Behold, here am I," showing such extraordinary presence of mind, that neither his mind seemed agitated by fear, nor his body by trepidation.
On this the knights instantly laid hands on him and seized him, that, for the perpetration of their design, they might drag him out of the church, but were unable so to do. The archbishop, on seeing his murderers with drawn swords, after the manner of one in prayer, bowed his head, uttering these as his last words: "To God and to Saint Mary, and to the Saints, the patrons of this church, and to Saint Denis, I commend myself and the cause of the Church." After this, amid all these tortures, this martyr, with unconquerable spirit and admirable constancy, uttered not a word or cry, nor heaved a sigh, nor lifted his arm against the smiter; but, bowing his head, which he had exposed to their swords, held it unmoved until the deed was completed.
COMING OF DERMOT (1168-9).
Source.—Song of Dermot.