A king does penance, another king is murdered

May 21st, 1172 was the date of the Compromise of Avranches, where Henry II made peace with the Church for that rather awkward assassination of the Archbishop of Canterbury by several of his knights
Devil’s Brood, pages 24-25
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When Henry finally emerged from the church, the spectators were disappointed anew, for he was not bareheaded and barefoot and clad only in his shirt A few men explained knowingly that he was spared the usual mortification because he’d not been excommunicated, but most of the bystanders took a more cynical view, that kings were always accorded special treatment, even by the Almighty Henry knelt upon the paving stones, only then removing his cap, and received public absolution by the Cardinals Albert and Theodwin. When he rose, the cardinals and the Bishop of Avranches led him back in to the cathedral, a symbolic act of reconciliation with the Church and the Almighty.
The dissatisfied onlookers dispersed when they realized the show was over. Roger, Bishop of Worcester, stood alone for a moment before slowly reentering the church, for he had been close enough to Henry to hear him say softly after the absolution, “Check, Thomas, and mate.”
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Henry would, of course, later make a genuine and much more spectacular act of atonement, submitting to a scourging and keeping an all-night vigil by the tomb of his martyred archbishop and one-time friend. And I am so glad he did, for that was such a powerful scene to write!
May 21st, 1471 was also the date of death of the hapless Lancastrian king, Henry VI, who died in the Tower—of melancholy, grieving over the death of his son at the battle of Tewkesbury, according to Yorkist spokesmen There may have been a few people who actually believed that, doubtless the same trusting souls who were eager to buy medieval bridges and swampland, having been assured it was prime real estate.
On a personal note, May 21st, 1912 was my dad’s birthday. He’d always wanted to live to reach one hundred; he did not make it but he did reach ninety-three. He liked to tell me that his generation saw changes more dramatic than any in the history of mankind and I think he was right, for he went from the horse and buggy to the age of space travel. As a boy, he and his grandfather took a horse and wagon from Atlantic City to Philadelphia; it was an all-day trip to cover those fifty miles He lived to make that same trip in an hour’s time He saw the birth of radio, talking movies, television, anti-biotics, men on the moon, and computers, although he never had any desire to master the latter Future generations will see dramatic changes, too, but they won’t be going from a semi-medieval life style to a world beyond imagining, as he did.