In the great hall, Henry was seated in the centre of the dais and on his left hand was his son, young Henry, who was nine years old.
The boy’s eyes lit up at the sight of Thomas and the Archbishop’s heart warmed to him. There was one who loved him. He did not meet the King’s eyes but he knew that the elder Henry watched him covertly.
As Primate he took the place on the right hand of the King - the second most important post in the kingdom. There were the bishops all assembled and among them the Archbishop of York, Roger de Pont l’Eveque. Roger could not hide his satisfaction. He would be remembering the old days in the household of Theobald when a certain young man - not of noble birth - had joined the young men there and won the old Archbishop’s affection as none of the others had done. Roger had done his best to appease his envy by getting Thomas expelled; he had succeeded in this on two occasions but when Thomas had been recalled he was in higher favour than ever. How envious Roger must have been when he heard of the King’s friendship with the man he hated! People used to say in those days: The King loves the Chancellor more than any other living being.
And now here was triumph, for everyone in that hall knew that they had been assembled to witness the public humiliation of the King’s one-time beloved friend.
Yet Thomas had his sympathisers there - mellow men, men of integrity. One was Henry of Winchester, brother of King Stephen, a man who had once had great ambitions, but who had long discarded them realising their emptiness. He knew the nature of the King and that of Thomas too. The Earl of Leicester and Richard de Luci were good honest men who served the King well. They would not go against Henry but they did not wish to see such a man as Thomas Becket humiliated. They understood his scruples and applauded them and would rather that it had not been necessary to call this meeting.
If Thomas knew the King, the King knew Thomas. He was well aware that Thomas had given him his verbal promise because as a churchman he had believed he must obey the Pope. It was a slip, Thomas, thought the King exultantly. Your poor weak Pope trembled for his own skin, and you fell into the trap. And now you regret it. And you can well refuse to take the oath in public. And I know you well. I know your eloquence. I know that you could sway a multitude to your way of thinking. Look around the hall, Thomas. See the armed men I have had stationed here. Others see them. They will know for what purpose they are here. There is not a man in this hall who would dare offend his King, Thomas. Except perhaps you. Consider the folly of it, Thomas.
He himself opened the meeting.
The Archbishop of Canterbury, he said, had come to swear before them all that he would unconditionally serve his King.
Thomas rose from his seat.
‘My lord,’ he said. ‘I will swear to serve my King when that service does not conflict with my duty to the Church.’
The King’s face was scarlet, his eyes blazed and every man in the hall save Thomas trembled. Thomas felt only exultation, for he had done what he believed was right. He had feared that in that assembly he might have quailed, but he had come through safely, and he felt he was sustained by God.
Henry’s fury broke forth. So great was his rage that he was incoherent. He could only fling abuse at his Archbishop. Thomas remained calm and pale as though he did not hear the King.
Nor did he. He was thinking, I have taken the first step. Whatever happens to me I must accept. If it is death then it will soon be over and I shall have died for God and the Church.
The King suddenly strode out of the hall. His son took a trembling look at Thomas and followed him. Thomas caught the cynical eye of the Archbishop of York, who in those seconds could not disguise his pleasure.
Thomas made his way to his lodging that he might meditate and pray for strength to go on as he had begun. It was not long before Joceline, Bishop of Salisbury and Roger, Bishop of Worcester called on him.
‘Come in, my friends,’ said Thomas.
They came in and regarded him with fearful eyes.
‘We implore you, my lord,’ said the Bishop of Salisbury, ‘to make your peace with the King.’
‘I do not wish to be at war with the King,’ answered Thomas.
‘He will kill us all if you do not take the oath, my lord.’
‘Then we must die. It will not be the first time that men have died for the Church of God. Countless hosts of saints have taught us by word and example: God’s will be done.’
‘You have seen the King’s mood. You saw the armed men who filled the hall.’
‘I saw them,’ said Thomas. ‘Pray for courage. It may be that our hour has come. If so, our only fear must be that we may lack the courage to face it. Pray for that courage. God will not fail you.’
They went away sorrowing and in great fear. Then came the Earl of Leicester and the King’s uncle, the Earl of Cornwall.
‘The King considers himself to have been insulted,’ said Leicester. ‘He declares he will be avenged.’
‘Then avenged he must be.’
‘You have only to swear that you will give absolute obedience to the King.’
‘I am a man of the Church.’
‘The King declares that you have promised him in private to serve him.’
‘I told him that the Pope had advised me to.’
‘We advise you too, my lord. We are your friends. We deplore this quarrel between you and the King.’
‘I know you to be my good friends and I thank you for it. I know you to be wise men. It is easy for you to swear to serve the King absolutely because you have not given your allegiance to the Church. I have told the King that I will obey him in all temporal matters. It is only when his will conflicts with that of Holy Church that I must disobey him and follow my true Master.’
‘The King is in an ugly mood.’
‘I know those moods well. Many times have I witnessed them.’
‘Never before were they directed in earnest against you.’
‘I know that the King is a man who will not be crossed. He will have what he wants and if he wants my blood I doubt not that he will have it.’
‘He does not want your blood, only your obedience.’
‘But if I cannot give him what he asks?’
‘We fear, my lord, that we may be called upon to do you to death. That would to us be a crime, but we must perforce commit it if it is the King’s command that we should.’
‘Ah, gentlemen, that is a matter for your consciences.’
‘If you would but swear …’
‘Nay, my lords. That is something I cannot do. Leave me now. Go to the quiet of your chambers and pray that when your hour of decision comes God will enable you to do what is right.’
Thomas was still on his knees when there was yet another visitor. This was the Grand Master of the English Templars, Richard of Hastings, and with him came another of the Templars, Hostes of Boulogne.
These were holy men and Thomas trusted them. They were in the King’s confidence and assured Thomas that they knew his mind and that he had talked to them of his true feelings.
‘The King has a deep affection for you still, my lord Archbishop,’ said Richard of Hastings. ‘He wishes us to be his mediators. He says you will readily understand the position in which by the stubbornness of your determination and the violence of his temper you have been placed. This matter has gone so far that he cannot retreat. It would seem weak in a king, who having shown what he says he is determined to have, to accept something less. He has sworn to us that he wishes only to have your oath in public and if you will give it he will not tamper with the laws of the Church.’
‘Is this indeed so?’ asked Thomas.
‘He has sworn it is so.’
‘He does not always keep his promises.’
‘He has asked what good would come to the realm if he had an open quarrel with the Church. What harm would come if he quarrelled with his Primate so as to make a rift between the State and the Church? The King wants a reconciliation with you. If you will but return to the hall and give him what he wants you need have no fear. The King has given his word. But you must swear in public to take the oath of absolute obedience to the Crown.’
‘You have indeed come from the King?’
‘We have indeed.’
‘And he has sworn that he will keep to his promises not to interfere in Church matters?’
‘He has sworn.’
‘Then I will send for my bishops and tell them that on your advice and assurances I can make this oath in public.’
Thomas returned to the hall. The Archbishop of York watched him cynically while the others looked as though a great burden had fallen from their shoulders.
The King was almost merry. His eyes were kindly and full of affection as he turned to his Archbishop of Canterbury.
Thomas rose to his feet and swore to the assembly that he would obey the customs of the realm in good faith.
‘You have all heard what the Archbishop has promised me on his own part,’ cried the King in a loud voice. ‘Now it only remains that at his bidding the other bishops should do the same.’
‘I will that they satisfy your honour as I have done,’ said Thomas.
All the bishops rose and made their promise. Only Joceline Bishop of Salisbury hesitated and looked at Thomas.
‘What ails you, my lord Bishop of Salisbury?’ roared the King.
‘You are sure, my lord,’ asked the bishop looking at Thomas, ‘that it is right for me to take this oath?’
‘By God’s eyes,’ cried the King, ‘that man is ever against me.’
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