however, one of Canterbury's most magnificent scenes of ecclesiastical
pomp occurred in connection with the remains of Becket. The summer of
1220 saw the completion of the new shrine, and on July 7, the
translation of the saint's remains was accomplished amid scenes of the
most astonishing splendour, described by those who were present as
being without a parallel in the history of England, the crowds
including people from many foreign countries. Money was spent so
lavishly on the entertainment of the innumerable persons of
distinction who were present or took part in the great ceremony that
for several years the finances of the see were unpleasantly
reminiscent of the vast expenditure. Henry III. was present, but he
was not old enough to be a bearer of the great iron-bound chest
containing the poor remnants of Becket's human guise. In the presence
of nearly every ecclesiastical dignitary in the land the remains were
placed in the newly finished shrine all aglow with jewels set in gold
and silver.

Throughout the centuries succeeding this crowning glory of Canterbury,
the little walled city saw many great functions apart from the yearly
stream of pilgrims of every grade of society, and the huge doles of
food and drink given away by the two great monasteries and the lesser
houses of the city must have brought together an unwholesome concourse
of the needy.

Every fifty years after the translation of Becket's remains to the
great shrine there was a special festival on July 7, when the people
of the archiepiscopal city would find their resources strained to the
very uttermost in feeding and housing the great assemblage. The
martyrdom took place on December 29, but owing to the time of the
year this festival did not draw so many as the summer one. All through