Thomas Becket. Father John S. Hogan

legate to England. It was neither Theobald nor Henry, however, but an Italian: Cardinal Imar, bishop of Tusculum. Lucius did accede to Henry’s request to raise Winchester to an archiepiscopal see and dispatched Imar to oversee it. However, the pope died on February 15, 1145, and with him Henry’s chance to become an archbishop, much to Theobald’s relief. Imar himself moved on, up, and eventually down as he not only supported an antipope, Victor IV, but also consecrated him, earning an excommunication for his trouble.⁶

      The organization of Theobald’s service and household was complex.⁷ Though Canterbury was his principle residence, the archbishop had other castles and estates that he visited at various times of the year. The archbishop’s court, like that of a monarch, was almost nomadic in its constant progress from one residence to another. These residences were situated in the vast estates owned by the see of Canterbury in Kent and in Sussex, Surrey, and Middlesex. Saint Anselm had acquired a property in Lambeth, across the Thames from London, and the archbishop used this when he needed to be near the royal palace at Westminster. Theobald did not use this residence too often, preferring to stay at his manor house at Harrow, just a short ride from London.

      The archbishop’s entourage was considerable. A crossbearer went before him — this was an important ceremonial and liturgical office that proclaimed the authority and dignity of the archbishop. He had a chancellor; two chaplains, usually monks; and a butler who ran the domestic affairs of the household. Dispensers, a chamberlain, and a steward completed the upstairs domestic staff. Below stairs, the household operated as any feudal lord’s service did: cooks governed by a master cook, a baker, ushers, porters, grooms, janitors, numerous kitchen staff, and servants to clean and wash. As a feudal lord and an owner of vast estates that were to yield sufficient income to meet the annual expenses of the palace, chancery, and other offices, the archbishop also employed servants to manage his estates and collect rents from his tenants.

      Theobald’s archiepiscopal court consisted of clergy of various ranks, his clerks, and officials. The archdeacon was the most senior of the archbishop’s household, in charge of the administration of the archdiocese, governing in Theobald’s name with jurisdiction delegated from the archbishop. Below the archdeacon were myriad clerks of various ranks and seniority who carried out the day-to-day running of the archdiocese and household while also fulfilling duties related to matters of the primacy. The church courts also fell under the jurisdiction of the archbishop, and his staff had to manage these also. The archbishop would normally hear the important cases in these courts, but some of the more senior clerks presided over lesser matters and delivered binding judgments. One of the skills Theobald looked for in his servants was diplomacy, coupled with a thorough knowledge of canon and civil law. He expected them to deal not only with their many duties but also with other issues, awkward or otherwise, that would have emerged on a daily basis. As Theobald was called upon to intervene in state affairs, his clerks understood the need for studied diplomacy, and their master expected competency, ability, and a certain creativity.

      The archbishop’s clerks were nominally clerics, but these men were not following a vocation to priesthood. While they were tonsured, they occupied the lower ranks of the clerical hierarchy: lectors, acolytes, and, at most, subdeacons. The lower ranks were not bound to the rule of celibacy, nor did they take religious vows or serve any liturgical function beyond being readers or minor servers at Mass and the Divine Office. Because they were working for bishops and the Church, many men in England at that time were considered clerics, even married men who occupied the lower ranks, and this designation affected their rights and answerability under the law. They were, in fact, subject to canon law, and if accused of a crime, they were to be tried in ecclesiastical rather than civil courts under English law. This had been a bone of contention between the state and the Church for some time.⁸

      As noted, diplomacy was a vital skill among those in the archbishop’s employ. Diplomacy was necessary not only for dealing with external affairs and disputes and the foibles, ambitions, and intrigues of fellow staff, but also for keeping on the right side of the archbishop. Theobald, for all his piety and fairness, had a quick temper and could be rash; he was well known to throw out blunt statements and could be hard on his servants, though he always valued their service and loyalty and rewarded diligence. He could be extremely sensitive and, given his humble origins, was prone to insecurity. The archbishop’s servants would have known that they had to boost their master’s confidence at times, particularly when he was being attacked by enemies or under pressure from the king.⁹

      This world that Thomas was about to enter required skill to negotiate. It was at some point in 1145 that Thomas arrived at the archbishop’s manor at Harrow for his interview with Theobald. He met with an experienced and even war-weary man now fully immersed in the affairs of Church and state. The young man before him was yet an unknown entity to the archbishop; but Theobald, it seems, was impressed with what he heard and saw in the interview. Thomas was charming and used every opportunity to reveal his natural intelligence and experience to date, while hiding the holes in his education; he must have displayed his abilities and his unwavering enthusiasm. And Theobald was given to nepotism. In addition to having awarded his brother Walter the post of archdeacon of Canterbury, he had given junior roles in the household to a plethora of nephews. If Thomas was indeed a relative, Theobald would have been inclined to give him some form of employment in the archiepiscopal court. At any rate, the archbishop accepted Thomas immediately as a clerk. Whether Thomas knew it or not, his life’s work was to begin in earnest with this humble position of junior clerk.

       8

       Archiepiscopal Servant

      Life in the archbishop’s household was hectic. Like many ecclesiastical centers in England at the time, it was a mix of diocesan chancery, monastery, and secular court, all sharing the same buildings and coexisting in relative peace — but with intrigue. Thomas struggled at first in this new environment. There was a hierarchy among the clerks; some were very well educated, and these would have considered Thomas an inferior. But rather than stunt the young man, the situation actually stirred his ambition. He saw how clerks had risen up the ranks, some being appointed archdeacons of various dioceses so they would, in time, easily slip into the episcopacy. Thomas may or may not have had designs on holy orders, but his ambition was growing, and the first step toward advancement was to enter the ranks of the clerics, as was normal for those who served the Church in a professional capacity. He received minor orders soon after he was appointed clerk, and as he entered the clerical state, his status changed. In accordance with the much-disputed custom, he was now subject to ecclesiastical rather than civil jurisdiction in many areas.

      Thomas’s whole world changed. No longer a resident in London, he now lived a peregrinate existence, moving with the archiepiscopal court from Canterbury to the various manors Theobald occupied in accordance with his business. Working for the official Church then, as now, was challenging in many ways, including morally; it was not, perhaps, the best place to see the Gospel at work. There were those who sought to serve the Church and the archbishop, but there were others who saw every action, every decision, every development, in terms of moving up and down ladders, making or breaking careers. The game of power occupied many in the archbishop’s household, and in the daily activity of the archiepiscopal court, politics was as much a motivation for them as the Church’s mission. The court teemed with all the emotions of men who were seeking to make something of their lives. In that context, alliances were made and broken, friendships formed, individuals noted and marked. A way of doing things in terms of procedure, law, and custom became a status quo that was carefully adhered to, not only to ensure that things were done right but also to keep peace, to keep certain individuals in check, and to unite the whole body ecclesiastical as one whenever a threat came from outside.

      Such was the way of life in any court, but in this one, the hardworking and committed archbishop, a man of faith, made all the difference. He inspired loyalty. Dropped into this clerical soup, Thomas had to hit the ground running and find friends among the staff. One prominent member of the court, however, may not have been initially inclined to a positive relationship with him: Roger de Pont L’Évêque. Roger was a native of Normandy, born around 1115. Upon his entrance into Theobald’s service, it was obvious that