attention to
the fact that Hilary had appealed to Rome to the contempt of the royal
dignity. The king, his countenance changed with fury, turned passionately
to the bishop, who tremblingly swore, while Archbishop Theobald crossed
himself in amazement at the audacious perjury, that it was the abbot who
had got the bull of which Thomas complained. Theobald entreated that the
matter might be settled according to Canon law, but this the king promptly
refused. Finally Hilary was forced to complete submission, and the
archbishop prayed that he might be pardoned for any imprudent words he had
used against the king's majesty. Henry was ever ready to yield everything
in form when once he had got his own way. "Not only," he answered, "do I
now give him the kiss of peace, but if his sins were a hundredfold, I
would forgive them all for your prayers and for the love I bear him;" and
bishop and abbot and justiciar, all by the king's orders, joined in the
kiss of peace.

But no kiss of peace given at Henry's orders could turn away the rising
wrath of the Church. A general feeling of danger was in the air, and both
sides, in preparing for the inevitable future, chose the same man to
fight their battle,--Thomas, the disciple and secretary of Theobald,
Thomas, the minister of the king's reforms. The young king had turned
with passionate affection to his brilliant chancellor. In hall, in
church, in council-chamber, on horseback, he was never separated from his
friend. Thomas, like his master, was always ready for hunting, or for
hawking, or for a game of chess. He was willing, too, to save the king
the cost and burden of entertainment and display. He was careful to
magnify his office. He held a splendid court, where Henry's son and a
train of young nobles were brought up to knightly accomplishments. He was
dressed in scarlet and furs, and his clothes were woven with gold. His
table was covered with gold and silver plate, and his servants had orders
to buy the most costly provisions in the shops for cooked meat, which
were then the glory of the city. His household was the talk of London.
The king himself, curious to see how things went on, would sometimes come
on horseback to watch the chancellor sitting at meat, or, bow in hand,
would turn in on his way from hunting, and, vaulting over the table,
would sit down and eat with him. Henry lavished gifts on him, so that
according to one of his chroniclers, "when he might have had all
the chur