instantly bound themselves by an oath to revenge their king's quarrel; and secretly retiring from court, took shipping at different ports, and met the next day at the castle of Saltwode, within six miles of Canterbury. Some menacing expressions which they had dropt, and their sudden departure, gave the king reason to suspect their design. He therefore sent messengers to overtake and forbid them, in his name, to commit any violence; but these orders arrived too late to prevent their fatal purpose. The conspirators being joined by some assistants at the place of their meeting, proceeded to Canterbury, with all that haste their bloody intentions required. Advancing directly to Becket's house, and entering his apartment, they reproached him very fiercely for the rashness and the insolence of his conduct; as if they had been willing to enjoy his terrors before they destroyed him. Becket, however, was not in the least terrified; but vindicated his actions with that zeal and resolution, which nothing probably but the consciousness of his innocence could inspire. The conspirators felt the force of his replies; and were particularly enraged at a charge of ingratitude, which he objected to three of them, who had been formerly retained in his service. During this altercation, the time approached for Becket to assist at vespers, whither he went unguarded, the conspirators following, and preparing for their attempt. As soon as he had reached the altar, where it is just to think he aspired at the glory of martyrdom, they all fell upon him; and having cloven his head with repeated blows, he dropt down dead before the altar of St. Benedict, which was besmeared with his blood and brains.

The circumstances of the murder, the place where it was perpetrated, and the fortitude with which the prelate resigned himself to his fate, made

a most surprising impression on the people. No sooner was his death known, than they rushed into the church to see the body; and dipping their hands in his blood, crossed themselves with it, as with that of a saint. The clergy, whose interest it was to have Becket considered as a saint, and perhaps who were real in their belief, considering the times we treat of, did all that lay in their power to magnify his sanctity, to extol the merits of his martyrdom, and to hold him out as the fittest object of the veneration of the people. Their endeavours soon prevailed. Innumerable were the miracles said to be wrought at his tomb; for when the people are brought to see a miracle, they generally find or make one. It was not sufficient that his shrine had the power of restoring dead men to life; it restored also cows, dogs and horses. It was reported, and believed, that he rose from his coffin before he was buried, to light the tapers designed for his funeral nor was he remiss, when the funeral ceremony was over, in stretching forth his hand to give his benediction to the people. Thus Becket became a saint; and the king was strongly suspect. ed of procuring his assassination.

Nothing could exceed the king's consternation upon receiving the first news of this prelate's catastrophe. He was instantly sensible that the murder would be ultimately imputed to him. He was apprized that his death would effect what his opposition could not do; and would procure those advantages to the church, which it had been the study of his whole reign to refuse. These considerations gave him the most unfeigned concern. He shut himself up in darkness, refusing even the attendance of his domestics. He even refused, during three days, all nourishment. The courtiers, dreading the effects of his regret, were at last obliged to break into his solitude; and induced

him at last to be reconciled to a measure that he could not redress. The pope soon after being made sensible of the king's innocence, granted him his pardon; but upon condition that he would make every future submission, and perform every injunction that the holy see should require. All things being thus adjusted, the assassins who had murdered Becket, retired in safety to the enjoyment of their former dignities and honours, and the king, in order to divert the minds of the people to a different object, undertook an expedition against Ireland.

Ireland was at that time in pretty much the same. situation that England had been, after the first invasion of the Saxons. They had been already converted to Christianity; and for three or four centuries after, possessed a very large proportion of the learning of the times; being undisturbed by foreign invasions, and perhaps too poor to invite the rapȧcity of conquerors, they enjoyed a peaceful life, which they gave up to piety, and such learning as was then thought necessary to promote it. Of their learning, their arts, their piety, and even their polished manners, too many monuments remain to this day for us to make the least doubt concerning them; but it is equally true, that in time they fell from these advantages; and their degenerate posterity, at the time we are now speaking of, were wrapt in the darkest barbarity. This may be imputed to the frequent invasions which they suffered from the Danes, who over-ran the whole country, and every where spread their ravages, and confirmed their authority. The natives, kept in the strictest bondage, grew every day more ignorant and brutal; and when at last they rose upon their conquerors, and totally expelled them the island, they wanted instructors to restore them to their former attainments. From thence they continued in the most deplorable state of barbarism.

The towns that had been formerly built were suffered to fall into ruin; the inhabitants exercised pasture in the open country, and sought protection from danger by retiring into their forests and bogs. Almost all sense of religion was extinguished; the petty princes exercised continual outrages upon each other's territories; and nothing but strength alone was able to procure redress.

At the time when Henry first planned the invasion of the island, it was divided into five principalities, namely, Leinster, Meath, Munster, Ulster, and Connaught; each governed by its respective monarch. As it had been usual for one or other of those to take the lead in their wars, he was denominated sole monarch of the kingdom, and possessed of a power resembling that of the early Saxon monarchs in England. Roderic O'Connor, king of Connaught, was then advanced to this dignity, and Dermot McMorrogh was king of Leinster. This last named prince, a weak licentious tyrant, had carried off and ravished the daughter of the king of Meath, who being strengthened by the alliance of the king of Connaught, invaded the ravisher's dominions, and expelled him from his kingdom. This prince, thus justly punished, had recourse to Henry, who was at that time at Guienne; and offered to hold his kingdom of the English crown, in case he recovered it by the king's assistance. Henry readily accepted the offer; but being at that time embarrassed by more near interests, he only gave Dermot letters patent, by which he empowered all his subjects to aid the Irish prince in the recovery of his dominions. Dermot, relying on this authority, returned to Bristol, where, after some difficulty, he formed a treaty, with Richard, surnamed Strongbow, earl of Pembroke, who agreed to reinstate him in his dominions, upon condition of his being married to

A. D.

1172.

his daughter Eva, and declared heir of all his territory. He at the same time contracted for succours with Robert Fitzstephens, and Robert Fitzgerald, whom he promised to gratify with the city of Wexford, and the two adjoining districts which were then in possession of the Easterlings. Being thus assured of assistance, he returned privately to Ireland, and concealed himself during the winter in the monastery of Ferns, which he had founded. Robert Fitzstephens was first able, the ensuing spring, to fulfil his engagement, by landing with an hundred and thirty knights, sixty esquires, and one hundred archers. They were soon after joined by Maurice Prendergast, who, about the same time, brought over ten knights and sixty archers; and with this small body of forces they resolved on besieging Wexford, which was to be theirs by treaty. This town was quickly reduced; and the adventurers being reinforced by another body of men to the amount of an hundred and fifty, under the command of Maurice Fitzgerald, composed an army that struck the barbarous natives with awe. Roderic the chief monarch of the island, ventured to oppose them, but he was defeated; and soon after the prince of Ossory was obliged to submit, and give hostages for his future conduct.

Dermot being thus reinstated in his hereditary dominions, soon began to conceive hopes of extending the limits of his power, and making himself master of Ireland. With these views, he endeavoured to expedite Strongbow; who, being personally prohibited by the king, was not yet come over. Dermot tried to enflame his ambition by the glory of the conquest, and his avarice by the advantages it would procure; he expatiated on the cowardice of the natives, and the cétainty of his success. Strongbow first sent over Raymond, one