Richard de Brito: The Forgotten Killer; and a very Dangerous Friend
CrimeAndJustice, HistoricalEvents Rachel Elwiss Joyce CrimeAndJustice, HistoricalEvents Rachel Elwiss Joyce

Richard de Brito: The Forgotten Killer; and a very Dangerous Friend

In legend he struck the final blow; in fiction, he will cause a torrent of trouble for his friend William FitzErneis in Lady of Lincoln.

When Archbishop Thomas Becket was cut down before the altar of Canterbury Cathedral in December 1170, the man who delivered the fatal stroke was Richard de Brito—sometimes styled le Breton. His sword, witnesses said, split Becket’s skull so deeply that the blade snapped on the flagstones.

Unlike the other knights, de Brito cried out as he struck:

“Take that for the love of my lord William FitzEmpress!”

The words stunned those who heard them. He was killing the archbishop not in Henry II’s name, but in that of Henry’s brother—the late William FitzEmpress, Henry II’s brother.

Read More
Hugh de Morville: The Knight Who Would Not Repent
Biographies, ReligionMagicandBelief Rachel Elwiss Joyce Biographies, ReligionMagicandBelief Rachel Elwiss Joyce

Hugh de Morville: The Knight Who Would Not Repent

Lord of Westmorland and Knaresborough, de Morville escaped execution, but not history’s judgment.

When Thomas Becket fell beneath the knights’ swords on that winter night in Canterbury, Hugh de Morville was there, but whether he struck or simply stood aside remains one of history’s greyest shadows.

He was the oldest of the four and the most powerful: Lord of Westmorland and Knaresborough, baron of the north, and keeper of one of the most formidable castles in England. While Reginald FitzUrse raged, William de Tracy hesitated, and Richard de Brito delivered the fatal blow, de Morville watched . But his silence proved to be as damning as any sword.

Read More
Reginald FitzUrse: The Bear Knight Who Slayed a Saint
Biographies, HistoricalEvents Rachel Elwiss Joyce Biographies, HistoricalEvents Rachel Elwiss Joyce

Reginald FitzUrse: The Bear Knight Who Slayed a Saint

On 29 December 1170, four armed knights pushed through the freezing rain towards Canterbury Cathedral. Their leader was Reginald FitzUrse—a man whose very name meant “son of the bear.” He would live up to it in every sense: fierce, proud, and dangerously impulsive.

When Thomas Becket fell beneath their swords that night, FitzUrse’s roar echoed through the nave. It was he who first laid hands on the archbishop, striking the blow that turned a quarrel between king and church into one of the most shocking crimes of the Middle Ages.

A Knight of the King’s Household

Little is known of FitzUrse’s early life. He came from a respectable Somerset family, holding lands at Willeton and Barham. Like many younger sons of the gentry, he found advancement in royal service. By the 1160s he was one of Henry II’s household knights—trusted, well-paid, and fiercely loyal to the king who rewarded courage and obedience above all else.

That loyalty, however, would prove fatal.

Read More
The Shadow of Becket: How a Murder Shook the Kingdom
People, HistoricalEvents Rachel Elwiss Joyce People, HistoricalEvents Rachel Elwiss Joyce

The Shadow of Becket: How a Murder Shook the Kingdom

For years, the quarrel between Henry II and Thomas Becket raged. Becket fled to France in 1164, finding refuge with King Louis VII—the same Louis who still burned with resentment against Henry II for marrying Eleanor of Aquitaine. The dispute became as much about politics as faith: two monarchs using one archbishop as a pawn.

In 1170, Henry and Becket made a fragile peace. The archbishop returned to England to cheers from the faithful. But within weeks, their conflict flared again when Becket excommunicated bishops loyal to the crown.

It was then, in a moment of fury, that Henry uttered the words chroniclers would never forget—perhaps not verbatim, but in essence:

“Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest?”

Four knights took him at his word.

Read More