<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></SPAN>CHAPTER I<br/><br/> <small>THE PILGRIMS’ WAY</small></h2>
<p class="nind">T<small>HREE</small> hundred and seventy years have passed since the shrine of St.
Thomas at Canterbury was swept away, and the martyr’s ashes were
scattered to the winds. The age of pilgrimages has gone by, the
conditions of life have changed, and the influences which drew such vast
multitudes of men and women to worship at the murdered Archbishop’s tomb
have long ago ceased to work on the popular mind. No longer does the
merry<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_002" id="page_002"></SPAN>{2}</span> cavalcade of Chaucer’s lay ride forth in the freshness of the
spring morning, knight and merchant, scholar and lawyer, Prioress and
Wife of Bath, yeoman and priest and friars, a motley company from all
parts of the realm, “ready to wenden on their pilgrimage with full
devout courage” to Canterbury. The days of pilgrimages are over, their
fashion has passed away, but still some part of the route which the
travellers took can be traced, and the road they trod still bears the
name of the Pilgrims’ Way. Over the Surrey hills and through her stately
parks the dark yews which lined the path may yet be seen. By many a
quiet Kentish homestead the grassy track still winds its way along the
lonely hill-side overlooking the blue Weald, and, if you ask its name,
the labourer who guides the plough, or the waggoner driving his team,
will tell you that it is the Pilgrims’ Road to Canterbury. So the old
name lives, and the memory of that famous pilgrimage which Chaucer sang
has not yet died out of the people’s heart. And although strangers
journey no longer from afar to the martyrs shrine, it is still a
pleasant thing to ride out on a spring or<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_003" id="page_003"></SPAN>{3}</span> summer morning and follow the
Pilgrims’ Way. For the scenes through which it leads are fair, and the
memories that it wakes belong to the noblest pages of England’s story.</p>
<p>In those old days the pilgrims who came to Canterbury approached the
holy city by one of the three following routes. There was first of all
the road taken by Chaucer’s pilgrims from London, through Deptford,
Greenwich, Rochester, and Sittingbourne; the way trodden by all who came
from the North, the Midlands, and the Eastern Counties, and by those
foreigners who, like Erasmus, had first visited London. But the greater
number of the foreign pilgrims from France, Germany, and Italy landed at
Sandwich Haven or Dover, and approached Canterbury from the south; while
others, especially those who came from Normandy and Brittany, landed at
Southampton and travelled through the southern counties of Hampshire,
Surrey, and Kent. Many of these doubtless stopped at Winchester,
attracted by the fame of St. Swithun, the great healing Bishop; and
either here or else at Guildford, they would be joined by the<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_004" id="page_004"></SPAN>{4}</span> pilgrims
from the West of England on their way to the Shrine of Canterbury. This
was the route taken by Henry II. when, landing at Southampton on his
return from France, he made his first memorable pilgrimage to the tomb
of the murdered Archbishop, in the month of July, 1174. And this route
it is, which, trodden by thousands of pilgrims during the next three
centuries, may still be clearly defined through the greater part of its
course, and which in Surrey and Kent bears the historic name of the
Pilgrims’ Way. A very ancient path it is, older far than the days of
Plantagenets and Normans, of shrines and pilgrimages. For antiquarian
researches have abundantly proved this road to be an old British track,
which was in use even before the coming of the Romans. It may even have
been, as some writers suppose, the road along which caravans of
merchants brought their ingots of tin from Cornwall to be shipped at
what was then the great harbour of Britain, the Rutupine Port,
afterwards Sandwich Haven, and then borne overland to Massilia and the
Mediterranean shores. Ingots of tin, buried it may be in haste<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_005" id="page_005"></SPAN>{5}</span> by
merchants attacked on their journey by robbers, have, it is said, been
dug up at various places along this route, and British earthworks have
been found in its immediate neighbourhood.</p>
<p>The road was, there can be no doubt, used by the Romans; and all along
its course remains of Roman villas, baths, and pavements have been
brought to light, together with large quantities of Roman coins,
cinerary urns, and pottery of the most varied description. In mediæval
days this “tin road,” as Mr. Grant Allen calls it, still remained the
principal thoroughfare from the West to the East of England. It followed
the long line of hills which runs through the north of Hampshire, and
across Surrey and Kent, that famous chalk ridge which has for us so many
different associations, with whose scenery William Cobbett, for
instance, has made us all familiar in the story of his rides to and from
the Wen. And it lay outside the great trackless and impassable forest of
Anderida, which in those days still covered a great part of the
south-east counties of England. Dean Stanley, in his<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_006" id="page_006"></SPAN>{6}</span> eloquent account
of the Canterbury pilgrimage, describes this road as a byway, and
remarks that the pilgrims avoided the regular roads, “probably for the
same reason as in the days of Shamgar, the son of Anath, the highways
were unoccupied, and the traveller walked through byways.” But the
statement is misleading, and there can be little doubt that in the
twelfth and thirteenth centuries this road was, if not the only means of
communication between West and East, at least the principal thoroughfare
across this part of England, and was as such the route naturally chosen
by pilgrims to Canterbury.</p>
<p>Certain peculiarities, it is interesting to notice, mark its course from
beginning to end. It clings to the hills, and, wherever it is possible,
avoids the marshy ground of the valleys. It runs, not on the summit of
the downs, but about half-way down the hill-side, where there is shelter
from the wind, as well as sunshine to be had under the crest of the
ridge. And its course is marked by rows of yew trees, often remarkable
for their size and antiquity. Some of these are at least seven or eight
hundred years old, and must have<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_007" id="page_007"></SPAN>{7}</span> reared their ancient boughs on the
hill-side before the feet of pilgrims ever trod these paths. So striking
is this feature of the road, and so fixed is the idea that some
connection exists between these yew trees and the Pilgrims’ Way, that
they are often said to have been planted with the express object of
guiding travellers along the road to Canterbury. This, however, we need
hardly say, is a fallacy. Yews are by no means peculiar to the Pilgrims’
Way, but are to be found along every road in chalk districts. They
spring up in every old hedgerow on this soil, and are for the most part
sown by the birds. But the presence of these venerable and picturesque
forms does lend an undeniable charm to the ancient track. And in some
places where the line of cultivation gradually spreading upwards has
blotted out every other trace of the road, where the ploughshare has
upturned the sod, and the hedgerows have disappeared, three or four of
these grand old trees may still be seen standing by themselves in the
midst of a ploughed field, the last relics of a bygone age.</p>
<p class="figcenter">
<SPAN href="images/i_b_008_lg.png">
<br/>
<ANTIMG class="enlargeimage" src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" alt="" width-obs="18" height-obs="14" />
<br/>
<ANTIMG src="images/i_b_008_sml.png" width-obs="291" height-obs="330" alt="DOORWAY IN CANTERBURY CLOISTERS THROUGH WHICH BECKET PASSED ON HIS WAY TO VESPERS." title="DOORWAY IN CANTERBURY CLOISTERS THROUGH WHICH BECKET PASSED ON HIS WAY TO VESPERS." /></SPAN>
<br/>
<span class="caption">DOORWAY IN CANTERBURY CLOISTERS THROUGH WHICH BECKET
PASSED ON HIS WAY TO VESPERS.</span></p>
<p>The murder of Becket took place on the<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_008" id="page_008"></SPAN>{8}</span> 29th of December, 1170. At five
o’clock on that winter evening, as the Archbishop was on<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_009" id="page_009"></SPAN>{9}</span> his way to
vespers, the King’s men, Reginald Fitz Urse and three knights who had
accompanied him from Saltwood Castle, rushed upon him with their swords
and murdered him in the north transept of his own Cathedral. The tragic
circumstance of Becket’s end made a profound impression on the people of
England, and universal horror was excited by this act of sacrilege.
Whatever his faults may have been, the murdered Archbishop had dared to
stand up against the Crown for the rights of the Church, and had died
rather than yield to the Kings demands. “For the name of Jesus and the
defence of the Church I am ready to die,” were his last words, as he
fell under the assassins’ blows. When he landed at Sandwich, on his
return from France, the country folk crowded to meet him and hailed him
as the father of orphans and deliverer of the oppressed, crying,
“Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.” His journey to
Canterbury was one long triumphal procession.<SPAN name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</SPAN> The poor looked to him
as their champion and<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_010" id="page_010"></SPAN>{10}</span> defender, who had laid down his life in the cause
of freedom and righteousness. Henceforth Thomas became a national hero,
and was everywhere honoured as the Martyr of the English.</p>
<p>The popular belief in his holiness was confirmed by the miracles that
were wrought in his name from the moment of his death. A violent storm
broke over the Cathedral when the fatal deed was done, and was followed
by a red glow, which illuminated the choir where the dead man’s body was
laid before the altar. The next day the monks buried the corpse in a
marble tomb behind Our Lady’s altar in the under-croft. For nearly a
year no mass was said in the Cathedral, no music was heard, no bells
were rung; the altars were stripped of their ornaments, and the
crucifixes and images were covered over. Meanwhile, reports reached
Canterbury of the wonderful cures performed by the martyred Archbishop.
On the third day after the murder, the wife of a Sussex knight, who
suffered from blindness, invoked the blessed martyr’s help, and was
restored to sight. And on the very night of the burial the paralytic
wife of a citizen of<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_011" id="page_011"></SPAN>{11}</span> Canterbury was cured by a garment which her
husband had dipped in the murdered saint’s blood.</p>
<p>These marvels were followed by a stream of devout pilgrims who came to
seek healing at the martyr’s tomb or to pay their vows for the mercies
which they had received. A monk was stationed at the grave to receive
offerings and report the miracles that were wrought to the Chapter. At
first these wonders were kept secret, for fear of the King, and of
Becket’s enemies, the De Brocs, whose men guarded the roads to
Canterbury. The doors of the crypt were kept bolted and barred, and only
the poor in the town and the neighbouring villages crept to the tomb.<SPAN name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</SPAN>
But on Easter Day, 1171, the crowds rushed in to see a dumb man who was
said to have recovered his speech; and on the following Friday the crypt
was thrown open to the public. From that time, writes Benedict, the monk
of Canterbury, “the scene of the Pool of Bethesda was daily renewed in
the Cathedral, and numbers of sick and helpless persons were to be seen
lying on the pavement<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_012" id="page_012"></SPAN>{12}</span> of the great church.”<SPAN name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</SPAN> “These great miracles
are wrought,” wrote John of Salisbury, an intimate friend of Becket, who
became Bishop of Chartres in 1176, and was an able statesman and
scholar, “in the place of his passion and in the place where he lay
before the great altar before his burial, and in the tomb where he was
laid at last, the blind see, the deaf hear, the dumb speak, the lame
walk, lepers are cleansed, and, a thing unheard of since the days of our
fathers, the dead are raised to life.”<SPAN name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</SPAN></p>
<p>From all parts of England the sick and suffering now crowded to
Canterbury, telling the same marvellous tale, how Thomas had appeared to
them robed in white, with the thin red streak of blood across his face,
bringing healing and peace. “In towns and villages, in castles and
cottages, throughout the kingdom,” writes another contemporary
chronicler, “every one from the highest to the lowest wishes to visit
and honour his tomb. Clerks and laymen, rich and<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_013" id="page_013"></SPAN>{13}</span><SPAN name="page_014" id="page_014"></SPAN> poor, nobles and
common people, fathers and mothers with their children, masters with
their servants, all come hither, moved by the same spirit of devotion.
They travel by day and night in winter and summer, however cold the
weather may be, and the inns and hostelries on the road to Canterbury
are as crowded with people as great cities are on market days.”<SPAN name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</SPAN></p>
<p class="figcenter">
<SPAN href="images/i_b_013_lg.png">
<br/>
<ANTIMG class="enlargeimage" src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" alt="" width-obs="18" height-obs="14" />
<br/>
<ANTIMG src="images/i_b_013_sml.png" width-obs="403" height-obs="299" alt="ST. CROSS FROM THE MEADOWS." title="ST. CROSS FROM THE MEADOWS." /></SPAN>
<br/>
<span class="caption">ST. CROSS FROM THE MEADOWS.</span></p>
<p>On the 21st of February, 1173, Pope Alexander III. pronounced the decree
of canonisation, and fixed the Feast of St. Thomas of Canterbury on the
day of the Archbishop’s martyrdom. In July, 1174, King Henry II., moved
by the reports which reached him in Normandy of the popular enthusiasm
for Becket, and fearing the effects of the divine wrath, came himself to
do penance at the martyr’s tomb. Three months after the King of the
English had given this public proof of his penitence and obtained
release from the Church’s censures, “the glorious choir of Conrad” was
destroyed by fire, on the night of September 5, 1174. The rebuilding of
the church, which was largely assisted by offerings at Becket’s tomb,<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_015" id="page_015"></SPAN>{15}</span>
was not finished until 1220, when the Saint’s body was removed to its
final resting-place in the new apse at the East end of the Chapel of the
Blessed Trinity, where the Archbishop had said his first mass.</p>
<p class="figcenter">
<SPAN href="images/i_b_015_lg.png">
<br/>
<ANTIMG class="enlargeimage" src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" alt="" width-obs="18" height-obs="14" />
<br/>
<ANTIMG src="images/i_b_015_sml.png" width-obs="295" height-obs="213" alt="THE ENTRANCE TO ST. CROSS HOSPITAL." title="THE ENTRANCE TO ST. CROSS HOSPITAL." /></SPAN>
<br/>
<span class="caption">THE ENTRANCE TO ST. CROSS HOSPITAL.</span></p>
<p>On Tuesday, July 7, an immense concourse of people of all ranks and ages
assembled at Canterbury. “The city and villages round,” writes an
eye-witness, “were so filled with folk<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_016" id="page_016"></SPAN>{16}</span> that many had to abide in tents
or under the open sky.”<SPAN name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></SPAN><SPAN href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</SPAN> Free hospitality was given to all, and the
streets of Canterbury literally flowed with wine. A stately procession,
led by the young King Henry III. and the patriot Archbishop Stephen
Langton, entered the crypt, and bore the Saint’s remains with solemn
ceremonial to their new resting-place. Here a sumptuous shrine, adorned
with gold plates and precious gems, wrought “by the greatest master of
the craft” that could be found in England, received the martyr’s relics,
and the new apse became known as “Becket’s Crown.”</p>
<p>The fame of St. Thomas now spread into all parts of the world during the
next two centuries, and the Canterbury pilgrimage was the most popular
in Christendom. The 7th of July was solemnly set apart as the Feast of
the Translation of St. Thomas, and henceforth the splendour of this
festival threw the anniversary of the actual martyrdom into the shade.
The very fact that it took place in summer and not in winter naturally
attracted greater numbers of<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_017" id="page_017"></SPAN>{17}</span> pilgrims from a distance. And on the
jubilees or fiftieth anniversaries of the Translation, the concourse of
people assembled at Canterbury was enormous.</p>
<p>Besides the crowds attracted by these two chief festivals, pilgrims came
to Canterbury in smaller parties at all seasons of the year, but more
especially in the spring and summer months. Each year, as Chaucer sings,
when the spring-time comes round,</p>
<div class="poetry">
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“When that Aprille with his showers sweete<br/></span>
<span class="i1">The drought of Marche had pierced to the roote....<br/></span>
<span class="i1">When Zephyrus eke with his sweete breathe<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Inspired hath in every holt and heathe<br/></span>
<span class="i1">The tender croppes ...<br/></span>
<span class="i1">And small fowlës maken melodie,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">That sleepen all the night with open eye,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Then longen folk to go on pilgrimages,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">And palmers for to seeken strange ‘strandës’ ...<br/></span>
<span class="i1">And specially, from every shire’s ende<br/></span>
<span class="i1">Of Engelond, to Caunterbury they wende,<br/></span>
<span class="i1">The holy blissful martyr for to seeke<br/></span>
<span class="i1">That them hath holpen when that they were sicke.”<br/></span></div>
</div></div>
<p class="figcenter">
<SPAN href="images/i_b_018_lg.png">
<br/>
<ANTIMG class="enlargeimage" src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" alt="" width-obs="18" height-obs="14" />
<br/>
<ANTIMG src="images/i_b_018_sml.png" width-obs="293" height-obs="211" alt="BOX HILL." title="BOX HILL." /></SPAN>
<br/>
<span class="caption">BOX HILL.</span></p>
<p class="nind">The passage of these caravans of pilgrims could not fail to leave its
mark on the places and the people along their path. The sight of these<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_018" id="page_018"></SPAN>{18}</span>
strange faces, the news they brought, and the tales they told must have
impressed the dwellers in these quiet woodlands and lonely hills. And
traces of their presence remain to this day on the Surrey downs and in
the lanes of Kent. They may, or may not, have been responsible for the
edible variety of large white snails, <i>Helix pomatia</i>, commonly called
Roman snails, which are found in such abundance at Albury in Surrey, and
at Charing in Kent, as well as at other places along<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_019" id="page_019"></SPAN>{19}</span> the road, and
which the Norman French pilgrims are traditionally said to have brought
over with them. But the memory of their pilgrimage survives in the
wayside chapels and shrines which sprung up along the track, in the
churches which were built for their benefit, or restored and decorated
by their devotion, above all in the local names still in common use
along the countryside. Pilgrims’ Lodge and Pilgrims’ Ferry, Palmers’
Wood, Paternoster Lane—these, and similar terms, still speak of the
custom which had taken such fast hold of the popular mind during the
three hundred and fifty years after the death of Becket, and recall the
long processions of pilgrims which once wound over these lonely hills
and through these green lanes on their way to the martyr’s shrine.<span class="pgnum"><SPAN name="page_020" id="page_020"></SPAN>{20}</span></p>
<p class="figcenter">
<SPAN href="images/i_b_020_lg.png">
<br/>
<ANTIMG class="enlargeimage" src="images/enlarge-image.jpg" alt="" width-obs="18" height-obs="14" />
<br/>
<ANTIMG src="images/i_b_020_sml.png" width-obs="292" height-obs="204" alt="THE CATHEDRAL FROM THE SOUTH." title="THE CATHEDRAL FROM THE SOUTH." /></SPAN>
<br/>
<span class="caption">THE CATHEDRAL FROM THE SOUTH.</span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />