Bologna was known as the university where future archdeacons were educated; among Thomas’s fellow students would have been men who had just been appointed and ordained archdeacons and those who had reason to consider themselves archdeacons in waiting. Thomas may well have seen Theobald’s plan for his life in this choice of school. But Theobald had another reason: Bologna was at the heart of a legal reform, one that Theobald himself was promoting and would introduce into England in the next few years with his appointment of the renowned legal scholar Roger Vacarius to a position at Oxford teaching Roman law in 1149. That decision would upset the royal masters of England, who liked to see themselves not only as the fount of all honor but also as the fount of all law. Theobald was a revolutionary in his own way, ensuring that the Church in England was in the vanguard of intellectual knowledge, with well-educated clerics to advance and protect the Church. Following Thomas’s studies in Bologna, Theobald arranged for him to be enrolled for a short time in the law school of Auxerre in France, where the courses he attended completed his legal education.
During his time of service, Thomas had already been on missions with Theobald, whose skills were now variously employed in the service of the state as well as of the Church. Certainly by the time he was in Auxerre, Thomas was deemed one of Theobald’s personal assistants. When Pope Eugene III called a council to be held at Reims in France in March 1148, Theobald sent word to Thomas in Auxerre to make his way to Reims to join him there. Pope Eugene had originally called the council to meet at Trier, in what is now Germany; however, an unfavorable reaction from the locals forced the pope to change the venue to Reims. Over the council’s eleven days, the pope intended to bring an end to debates on a number of canons that had been promulgated at the Second Lateran Council in 1139. One of these canons forbade clerical marriage. When the canon was pronounced, it was greeted by the council bishops with much hilarity in the hall — the clergy already knew about the law of celibacy, but it seemed that some offenders against the canon were feigning ignorance and still holding out for a change. Other matters included the condemnation of a heretic, Éon de l’Étoile, a Breton who thought he was the Messiah; a further condemnation of the supporters of the antipope Anacletus II (Anacletus had died in 1138, but his supporters were still making a nuisance of themselves); and other various disputes that needed to be settled.
At this point, Theobald was going through a bad patch with King Stephen. Feeling more comfortable on the throne with Matilda weakened, the king had begun to reverse some of the liberties he had yielded to the Church. To consolidate his position, Stephen had appointed various bishops to support him; including, it was said, William FitzHerbert, his nephew, to whom he granted the see of York, England’s second metropolitan see and often a rival to Canterbury. Though aware that the king might not approve of his leaving England, Theobald was not prepared to miss the council — he needed to consult the pope about important matters. Escaping Stephen’s spies, the archbishop commandeered a smack, a traditional fishing boat, and stole across the English Channel in the midst of a storm to plead his case with the pope. When Theobald arrived at the council, Pope Eugene took one look at the newly arrived archbishop and gleefully commented that the journey seemed more of a swim than a sail, and he was correct. Theobald and his crew looked worn and bedraggled like survivors of a shipwreck and were still suffering the effects of seasickness.11
Thomas met up with his archbishop at Reims and, working with his friend John of Salisbury and Roger de Pont L’Évêque, made ready the archbishop’s case against Stephen.12 Theobald had already suspended the bishops the king had instructed not to attend the council, among them Theobald’s nemesis, Henry of Winchester, because word of this had reached Stephen, the archbishop knew he was in dangerous waters. As they worked, Thomas found himself in the midst of the great and the good of the Church. For the first time, he set eyes on a pope and could see how a papal court operated, even if out of its natural forum in Rome. He saw some of the Church’s renowned contemporary theologians, and without doubt he would have spoken to Saint Bernard at least once, even if superficially, given that he was now a close friend of one of Bernard’s protégés. His old master from Paris, Robert of Melun, was also there, and perhaps some of his former student acquaintances. The council opened up the world of the Church to Thomas, and as clerk and close assistant of the archbishop of Canterbury, who was there on high-ranking business, he was at the center of it all.
Theobald argued his case persuasively and won the pope to his side. William FitzHerbert was formally deprived of the archbishopric of York on the grounds that the king had rigged the election, and his replacement, the Cistercian abbot of Fountains Abbey, Henry Murdac, was confirmed. William’s opponents also maintained that his personal life was far from ideal. Even Saint Bernard claimed to be aware of his unchaste lifestyle and ambition; in a letter to Pope Innocent II, Eugene’s predecessor, he had described William as being “rotten from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head.”13 While the same could be said of many a cleric then and now, the accusation proved useful for Theobald’s case, even if it was untrue. Saint Bernard of Clairvaux had gotten many things right in his life, but his opinion of William FitzHerbert was as far off the mark as could be. The man was, in fact, a saint, and the Church would confirm it by canonizing him in 1227. William’s chief opponents in York were Cistercians who were aggrieved at not being included in the episcopal election that saw William elevated and were displeased that their man was passed over for the archbishopric. They may have filled Bernard with lies, which led to his rash judgment of a man whose holiness was similar to his own. Saints make mistakes, too, and they can be misled by those who are not themselves saints.14
For Pope Eugene, confirming these decisions was not enough; he had to deal with Stephen. He proposed to excommunicate the king of England and ordered preparations to be made for the ceremony. To everyone’s astonishment, Theobald knelt before the pope and begged him not to excommunicate Stephen.15 Eugene was dumbstruck. He interpreted Theobald’s gesture as Christian charity and, in acknowledgment of the plea of mercy, reversed his decision. However, Theobald’s gesture was mostly political. He knew Stephen all too well — defying a pope was not beyond the realm of possibility for him. Stephen was unpopular with many, but an excommunication imposed without the king having a chance to defend himself might win many to his side and make the civil war, which was already wreaking havoc in the kingdom, much worse.
The council ended on April 1, but the pope and others remained to deal with what for Saint Bernard of Clairvaux was the main business of the council: the case of Gilbert de la Porrée. Theobald may have remained for that and witnessed Eugene’s compromise on the issue. He returned to Canterbury, again traveling discreetly to avoid the king’s spies, to receive a hero’s welcome as the people heard of his magnanimity in asking the pope not to excommunicate the king. Stephen was not so impressed. As soon as he heard Theobald was back, he sent one of his stalwarts to demand the archbishop’s submission to the crown. Theobald refused and not long after was deprived of his property, taken into custody, delivered to a ship bound for Flanders, and unceremoniously told to get out and never come back to England.16 The archbishop took refuge at the Benedictine Abbey of Saint Bertin at Saint-Omer and began his efforts to get back to England. Thomas may have made his way back to Auxerre to finish his studies, or he may have returned from the council with Theobald and gone into exile with him. Later in his life, Thomas would describe these events in great detail to a cardinal in the Roman curia,17 and the detail is so vivid that he may well have been with his archbishop and experienced them personally.
Life was not too bad for Theobald at Saint Bertin’s. His friends were able to visit him, bringing provisions and news of what was happening in England. It was obvious that Stephen had forced the archbishop into exile even in the face of Theobald’s great act of charity