of the young Prince Henry, he was served by one hundred and
forty knights, his riches were immense. The King once sent him as his
ambassador to France; and the French people, beholding in what state he
travelled, cried out in the streets, 'How splendid must the King of
England be, when this is only the Chancellor!' They had good reason to
wonder at the magnificence of Thomas a Becket, for, when he entered a
French town, his procession was headed by two hundred and fifty singing
boys; then, came his hounds in couples; then, eight waggons, each drawn
by five horses driven by five drivers: two of the waggons filled with
strong ale to be given away to the people; four, with his gold and silver
plate and stately clothes; two, with the dresses of his numerous
servants. Then, came twelve horses, each with a monkey on his back;
then, a train of people bearing shields and leading fine war-horses
splendidly equipped; then, falconers with hawks upon their wrists; then,
a host of knights, and gentlemen and priests; then, the Chancellor with
his brilliant garments flashing in the sun, and all the people capering
and shouting with delight.

The King was well pleased with all this, thinking that it only made
himself the more magnificent to have so magnificent a favourite; but he
sometimes jested with the Chancellor upon his splendour too. Once, when
they were riding together through the streets of London in hard winter
weather, they saw a shivering old man in rags. 'Look at the poor
object!' said the King. 'Would it not be a charitable act to give that
aged man a comfortable warm cloak?' 'Undoubtedly it would,' said Thomas
a Becket, 'and you do well, Sir, to think of such Christian duties.'
'Come!' cried the King, 'then give him your cloak!' It was made of rich
crimson trimmed with ermine. The King tried to pull it off, the
Chancellor tried to keep it on, both were near rolling from their saddles
in the mud, when the Chancellor submitted, and the King gave the cloak to
the old beggar: much to the beggar's astonishment, and much to the
merriment of all the courtiers in attendance. For, courtiers are not
only eager to laugh when the King laughs, but they really do enjoy a
laugh against a Favourite.

'I will make,' thought King Henry the second, 'this Chancellor of mine,
Thomas a Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury. He will then be the head of
the Church, and, being devoted to me, will help me to correct the Church.
He has alwa