Thomas Becket. Father John S. Hogan

There, under the master, Thomas improved his literacy and arithmetic and learned Latin, which was the language of learning and the language of the Church; almost all documents at that time were written in Latin. The curriculum for such schools also included basic logic and rhetoric, and perhaps other subjects such as geometry and music. Given Thomas’s position in society, his teachers would have tried to equip him for a career in business or law, so rhetoric, grammar, and logic were indispensable.

      When Thomas was ten, Gilbert enrolled him in the newly founded school at the Augustinian Merton Priory in Surrey, fifteen miles southwest of London.²² He was most likely a boarder, since the journey to the priory would have been too long to accomplish twice a day.²³ While the Augustinians were still engaged in constructing their buildings at the time he was there, the school had already earned a considerable reputation. The priory was founded in 1114 by a sheriff of Surrey, Gilbert Norman, with the permission and assistance of King Henry I. In 1117, the Augustinian Canons Regular of Huntington took possession of the priory and founded the school.²⁴ Among its early students was Nicholas Breakspear, who entered the school five years before Thomas in 1125; he would be more famously known as Pope Adrian IV (reigned 1154–1159), the only Englishman to be elected to the papacy.²⁵

      If Gilbert wanted his son to excel, then his attending one of the new, prestigious, and fashionable schools was a necessity. Matilda was also anxious to ensure that Thomas had the best education they could provide, so perhaps a school renowned for its rigor and away from London seemed ideal. At Merton, the young student received a classical education, and it seems he thrived; his singular talents were uncovered. He had a retentive memory and a brilliant mind. His biographer “Roger of Pontigny”²⁶ relates that Thomas at this time had a singular grace and a powerful intellect. As he grew strong in body, his mind advanced even further. He developed an ability to work out difficult problems and understand complex ideas, surpassing his fellow students with a particular sharpness of mind. Though he suffered from a stammer, which he would have all his life, for Thomas it was not an impediment at all, but an aid to his growing charm. Gifted with subtlety and keen perception, he was admired by many.²⁷ That said, for all his ability, he was, like many students before and after him, inclined to laziness, depending on his natural giftedness to get him through, which it did a little too often, much to the chagrin of his teachers.

      After two years at Merton, Thomas returned to London to attend grammar school.²⁸ There were three of these in the city: Saint Paul’s, Saint Mary-le-Grand, and Saint Mary-le-Bow. It is mostly likely that he attended Saint Mary-le-Bow, which was not far from his home, though Saint Paul’s, attached to Saint Paul’s Cathedral, was not too far away either. These schools were highly respected and known for their professionalism regarding study; they also promoted a certain freedom, even headiness, in the lives of their students, who were encouraged to engage in friendly rivalry as a means of preparing them for the world. Disputations and competitions were the order of the day as students were urged to work hard in order to excel and triumph over their rivals. Humor, wit, and play were nurtured, and though certain extremes usually went unchecked in the spirit of freedom, each young man was expected to be able to respond to jests poked against him and give as good as he got. It was an atmosphere Thomas would have reveled in. Rather than earning a reputation of unleashing young, wild men about town, these schools were admired by the officials and citizens of London and their students often envied for the fun and opportunities they had.

      Growing up in the city, Thomas would have had a hectic social life. The eternal bustle of the medieval capital of England held many curiosities and pleasures for young men.²⁹ As the son of a well-to-do businessman, Thomas had every opportunity to engage in these diversions. Through his father, he was acquainted with a number of notable and wealthy figures, and these formed his social circle. Londoners engaged in various sports and games in their free time. Sundays were days of particular amusement, and the city dwellers often went out to the fields outside the city walls to engage in sports not permitted by the city authorities. Thomas was part of that migratory crowd and would have enjoyed the various sports. The young men were particularly fond of military-style games, mock tournaments, wrestling, and fencing. Horseracing was another obsession, and it was at Smithfield, then outside the city, that Thomas was introduced to riding.

      One curious incident, noted by his secretary and biographer Herbert of Bosham,³⁰ occurred at this time in Thomas’s life: a vision of the Blessed Virgin. This story may well serve the same purpose as Grim’s accounts of Matilda’s prophetic visions or dreams, but it is worth noting. According to Herbert, Thomas was laid low in bed with a fever when he perceived a woman standing at the side of his bed. Holding two keys in her hand, the woman offered them to him, saying, “These are the keys of paradise of which you shall have charge hereafter.” Herbert maintains that he heard this from Thomas himself, and he may have.³¹ Whatever the veracity of the story, the vision certainly reflects his destiny, and as he grew to maturity, Thomas developed a deep faith in that destiny, though it would differ greatly from that destiny revealed in Herbert’s story of the vision. But for now, life was good for Thomas of London. Everything was going according to plan — be it Thomas’s plan or Gilbert’s. A good life of success, influence, and wealth lay ahead of him.

       3

       Our Friend Richer

      Thomas was growing into a very tall, dark, and handsome young man — he would be well over six feet in his maturity. The nose that made him self-conscious at times and led his enemies to call him “Beaky” did not distract from his fine features; indeed, it lent him an air of sophistication and nobility. His stammer enhanced rather than diminished his charm and elegance. He had engaging, bright eyes and was pale in complexion. Though he was devil-may-care in his attitude and becoming more confident as he grew older, drawing people to him, there was always something distant about him. The historian Dom David Knowles¹ has noted that while Thomas was well respected and deeply admired by those who knew him — even his enemies knew there was something formidable about him — few spoke of loving him, the exceptions being Theobald of Bec, archbishop of Canterbury, and Henry II.² There seems to have been something in him that kept people somewhat at a distance. This distance lent him an enigmatic air and, over time, would lead people to misunderstand him and his motives.

      Despite his stature, Thomas’s health was mediocre. From an early age, he developed a problem with digestion, a common ailment given the health hazards of the time, particularly when it came to food and its preparation. Thomas would have to keep an eye on what he ate and drank, as he discovered in one incident that almost cost him his life — one bad drink could trigger a serious reaction. He learned to steer clear of cider and wine, rarely imbibing them and preferring beer, which was less risky.³ While his biographers note that Thomas was modest and pleasant in his speech, they also relate that he loved a good time. Despite his budding nobility, he had a weakness for frivolity and fine garb. He was gregarious, enjoying the company of others, and was always at the center of buffoonery and pranks. This joie de vivre brought him to the attention of another wild spirit, Richer II, Lord de L’Aigle, a Norman nobleman more commonly known as Richer de L’Aigle.

      Richer was an aristocrat to his fingertips and reveled in the life and influence of the minor nobility. He was also a restless and turbulent man involved in numerous disputes and political machinations. Born in L’Aigle, Normandy, sometime around 1095,⁴ he was the eldest son of Gilbert, Lord de L’Aigle, and his wife, Julianna of Perche. The family was wealthy and well connected: Not only was Richer the descendant of the noble Barons de L’Aigle, but also his mother was the daughter of Geoffrey II, the Count of Perche, a veteran of the Battle of Hastings, a prominent landowner in England, and the founder of a leper colony. As respected courtiers, the de L’Aigle family seem to have had their fingers in a number of pies and, not content to remain in the background serving greater lords, made forays into royalty themselves. Richer’s sister, Marguerite, would marry the king of Pamplona (later Navarre), García V, and become the mother of King Sancho VI. However, the de L’Aigle family influence waned in Navarre thanks to Marguerite’s extramarital affairs before her early death in 1141. While her widowed husband and