He excommunicated the bishops of London and Salisbury
and a number of clerks and laymen, till in the chapel
of the king there was scarcely one who was able to
give him the kiss of peace. Henry “shook
with fear,” according to the boast of Thomas,
at the excommunications. In vain the Pope sought
to moderate his zeal. In the summer of 1169 two
legates were sent to settle the dispute, of whom one
was pledged to the king and the other to the archbishop.
Henry, like every one else, saw the futility of their
mission, and “led them for a week,” as
one of them complained, “through many windings
both of road and speech.” With a scornful
taunt that “he did not care an egg for them
and their excommunications,” he finally mounted
his horse to ride off from the conference. “I
see, I see!” he said to the frightened bishops
who hurried after him to call him back; “they
will interdict my land, but surely I who can take the
strongest of castles in any single day, shall I not
avail to scotch a single clerk if he should interdict
my land!” When a compromise seemed possible,
he suddenly added to the form of peace he had proposed
the words, “saving the dignity of my kingdom.”
This broke off all negotiations. “The dignity
of the kingdom,” said Thomas, “was only
a softer name for the Constitutions of Clarendon.”
“If the king,” said John of Salisbury,
“had obtained the insertion of this clause, he
had carried the royal customs, only changing the name.”
A new attempt at reconciliation was made in November
at Montmartre, but Henry refused to give the Primate
the “kiss of peace,” which in feudal custom
was the binding sign of perfect friendship; and when
the Pope thought to compel his submission, first by
threats and promises, then by a formal threat of interdict,
he answered by despatching very decided orders to England.
Anyone who carried an interdict to England was to suffer
as a traitor; all clerks were summoned home from abroad;
none might leave the kingdom without an order from
the king; if any man should observe an interdict he
was to be banished with all his kindred. All appeal
to Pope or archbishop was forbidden; no mandate might
be carried to Pope or archbishop; if any man favoured
Pope or archbishop his goods and those of his kindred
should be confiscated. All subjects of the realm,
from boys to old men, must swear obedience to these
articles.
But if Henry had long been used to see his mere will turn into absolute law, he had now reached a point where the submission of his subjects broke down. The laity indeed obeyed, but the clergy, with the Archbishop of York at their head, absolutely refused to abjure obedience to Pope and Primate. Throughout the strife the leading clergy had sought to avoid taking sides, but as the king’s attitude became more and more arbitrary, a steady undercurrent of resistance made itself felt. As early as 1166 the king’s officer, Richard of Ilchester, sought counsel of Ralph of Diceto as to the duty of observing his excommunication