Photo of a miniature of the martyrdom of St Thomas Becket, killed by Henry II’s men-at-arms, from Luttrell Psalter (c. 1320-1340, commissioned by Sir Geoffrey Luttrell the Lord of Irnham), MS 42130 at the British Library.
by Jordan Yang
The knights sprang through the door into the cloister, axes, and swords in hand, crying, “Where is Thomas Becket, traitor to the King and the kingdom?”[1] After learning Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury, had excommunicated several supporters of King Henry II of England, four incensed barons arrived at Canterbury Cathedral to confront him. “I will not spare anyone, no matter who he is, who presumes to violate the traditions of the Holy Roman See or the laws of Christ’s Church,” was Becket’s adamant reply.[2] Enraged, the men swore justice upon him and retreated to retrieve their weapons. Frantic calls sounded from the archbishop’s terrified monks as the knights re-entered the cathedral and found the archbishop in a cloister.
Once again Becket was asked to absolve the men he excommunicated. Again, he refused. Hands seized him—but he resisted being dragged away from the cloister.[3] After a brief struggle, Thomas realized the inevitable and bent his head in prayer. One of the knights, Reginald FitzUrse, struck the archbishop in the skull with his sword. Another, William de Tracy, slashed his head twice, causing Becket to fall.[4] As he lay prostrate, Richard le Bret severed Becket’s cranium. In a final act of humiliation, Hugh Mauclerk, a clerk who had accompanied the knights to the murder, placed a foot on the archbishop’s neck.[5] Crimson pooled on the floor as Thomas Becket passed from the world into the annals of Catholic sainthood, martyrdom, and history.
This vivid testimony survives in the account of Edward Grim, an eyewitness to Becket’s death who went on to write a celebrated biographical narrative of the archbishop’s stormy life.[6] The dramatic assassination of Thomas Becket on December 29, 1170, in England’s Canterbury Cathedral at the hands of King Henry II’s men sent shockwaves across Europe. Quickly following his murder, Becket was venerated as a Roman Catholic Martyr and canonized as a saint in 1173.[7] The swift and severe reaction to his assassination crystalized the growing tensions between the English Crown and the Roman Catholic Church.
However, Becket’s murder did not emerge in a vacuum. The assassination stemmed from a prolonged struggle between the Archbishop and the King, fueled by conflicting notions of ecclesiastical and royal authority. Accordingly, Becket’s support for the liberty of the English Church and Henry’s assertion of the king’s temporal powers was shaped by broader historical processes such as the Gregorian Reforms and the traditional strength of England’s kings. Furthermore, as demonstrated in primary accounts of the conflict, it was the convergence of these irreconcilable conceptions of secular and spiritual power that ultimately produced such an unprecedented act of violence.
The horror surrounding the archbishop’s death produced a profound literary response. Numerous versions of The Lives of Thomas Becket were penned within two decades of his murder. Blending the genres of history, biography, and hagiography, over a dozen such narratives survive from England, France, and further afield (such as the remarkable Thómas Saga Erkibyskups from Iceland).[8] While at times highly biased due to their following the conventions of “saints’ lives” which celebrated Becket’s martyrdom, the sheer number of extant sources means that his life is one of the best-recorded in the Middle Ages. Several accounts—particularly those of Herbert of Bosham, William Fitzstephen, and John of Salisbury—were written by Thomas’ own clerks. All three were intimately familiar with Becket and were present for many of the important events surrounding the controversy with the King. Likewise, other writers like the Cistercian monk Roger of Pontigny encountered Becket during the dispute. Most notably, several biographers including the pilgrim Edward Grim were eyewitnesses to the events in Canterbury Cathedral. Grim even attempted to shield Thomas from the assailants’ blows.[9] As such, a wealth of information survives from the period of the archbishop’s life and martyrdom. Despite the sources’ hagiographical tendencies, they were written by individuals with intimate personal ties who provide a valuable and largely reliable account of the altercation.
The dispute itself was lengthy and deeply complex. Having served as Henry II’s royal chancellor for nearly a decade, Thomas Becket was appointed as archbishop of Canterbury in 1162 after the death of the former archbishop Theobald.[10] Over the next year, tensions rose between the archbishop and the King over the case of Philip de Broi, a clerk who was accused of murdering a knight and was subsequently tried in an ecclesiastical court due to his vocational role in the Catholic Church. At the Council of Westminster (1163), Henry II demanded that Philip’s case be transferred to a royal court and that the Church respect what he believed to be the ancestral rights of the King of England. As archbishop, Thomas resisted Henry’s demands, and after another unsuccessful meeting at Northampton, the King called a council at Clarendon where he produced a document (the Constitutions of Clarendon, January 1164) declaring exactly what royal customs needed to be respected by the bishops. Under tremendous pressure from Henry, Becket was reluctantly forced to verbally assent to them.[11] At the subsequent Council of Northampton (1164), Henry II escalated and sought to humiliate the recalcitrant Becket by pressing various criminal charges including embezzlement and contempt to the King. In dramatic fashion, the Archbishop arrived at court carrying a cross before him and, invoking his spiritual authority, prohibited the Council from judging him on secular charges. Before Henry could further persecute him, the Archbishop fled abroad into exile.[12]
Thomas Becket sought to consolidate his position after fleeing to France, where he was supported by King Louis VII. Simultaneously, the pragmatic Pope Alexander III restored Becket to his position (which had been forfeited due to his flight) and sought to mediate between the feuding contestants.[13] From his position of safety, Becket used his powers to excommunicate several English royal officials at Vézelay.[14] What followed was a complex sequence of conflict and diplomacy, with the Pope strategically permitting Thomas to excommunicate prominent supporters of English royal power at certain times while restraining him from censuring his enemies at others. Alexander’s ploy of confirming and revoking spiritual penalties was designed to bring Henry and Thomas to the table. Indeed, during the latter half of the 1160s, numerous unsuccessful negotiations were held, with neither side willing to concede.[15] Progress was finally made in 1169 at Montmartre, where Henry agreed to numerous concessions to the Church including the abolition of parts of the Constitutions of Clarendon. However, when the King refused Becket a “kiss of peace” as a guarantee of his blessing, the meeting ended in failure. Peace was finally made in 1170 at Fréteval when Henry agreed to similar terms as at Montmartre.[16] Thus, Becket was finally able to return to England. Shortly before departing France, he excommunicated several members of the English clergy who had violated the rights of the archbishop of Canterbury by crowning Henry’s son, Henry the Young King, as heir to the throne in Becket’s absence.[17] The King was incandescent with rage, causing four knights—Reginald FitzUrse, William de Tracy, Richard le Bret, and Hugh de Morville to cross the sea and kill the Archbishop in Canterbury.[18]
While seemingly an act born of the moment, the dynamics that led to Becket’s death stretched back far before 1170. Thomas Becket’s death was preceded by a dispute over the respective rights and liberties of Church and Crown, with ideas—particularly their differing conceptions of royal and ecclesiastical authority—acting as motivating factors behind the assassination. Furthermore, Becket’s assertion of clerical sovereignty was shaped by the twelfth century’s broader intellectual and historical climate, particularly when viewed in the context of the revolutionary ideas regarding the scope of the Church’s authority during the eleventh century Gregorian Reforms.
Pushed by the zealous Pope Gregory VII (r. 1073-1085), the Gregorian Reforms sought to transform the Catholic Church by cementing Papal authority both in a spiritual and a worldly sense. While having claimed a de jure moral authority over its adherents since its foundation, reformers sought to define and extend the Church’s sovereignty in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. The influential cardinal and theologian Peter Damian pushed for reforms such as priestly celibacy and the stamping out of simony (the purchase of ecclesiastical privileges).[19] More importantly, Damian promulgated the notion that the Pope, acting as the legitimate successor of Jesus’ apostle Peter, is a fount of universal authority for Catholics. Accordingly, due to the Church’s intrinsic and divine sovereignty, Damian argued that lay subjects or ordinary members of the Church—regardless of station—have an obligation to obey the Church’s teachings.[20]
The Gregorian Reforms’ broad assertion of Papal primacy against errant forms of royal authority are best conceptualized through Gregory’s effort to end the practice of investiture, or the appointment of bishops by lay rulers. While practiced for centuries, Gregory VII and other assertive reformers viewed investiture as an encroachment on the rightful authority of the Catholic Church, which, receiving its authority from Christ, claimed sovereignty in all spiritual matters.[21] The controversy erupted when the Holy Roman Emperor, Henry IV, refused to forfeit his traditional right to appoint the Bishop of Milan in 1076.[22] What followed was a drawn-out conflict—both in terms of diplomacy and warfare across the German lands and the Italian peninsula—between Pope Gregory VII and Emperor Henry IV.
Gregory’s letters during the Investiture Controversy provide further insight into the reform position. For example, in a letter addressing Bishop Hermann of Metz (a supporter of the Papal position), the Pope quoted the Church’s foundation in the New Testament, arguing that Christ had invested the institution with the spiritual and temporal power to judge its subjects. As such, Gregory asserted that “any king, priest, judge or secular person” who openly disobeyed the Church “is committing a crime”.[23] Asserting this doctrine of primacy, the Pope went so far as to verbally depose Henry IV from his position of Holy Roman Emperor due to the ruler’s perceived disobedience to the Church over investiture.[24] Through the theology of Peter Damian and the writings and actions of Pope Gregory VII during the Investiture Controversy, the Gregorian reformers defined clerical authority as a divine inheritance rooted in the Church’s foundation which underscored its claim to supremacy in spiritual matters. As a result, the Church demanded obedience from its followers and asserted its authority by combating disordered expressions of royal sovereignty such as investiture and claiming the right to depose wayward rulers.
The Gregorian Reforms’ assertive notions of Papal supremacy in both the religious and temporal spheres formed an intellectual climate that was heavily reflected in Thomas’ conception of ecclesiastical authority. While admittedly favorable to his position, Thomas’ biographers made clear the nature of the archbishop’s position after his dispute with the King began. For example, in Roger of Pontigny’s account of the events following the unsuccessful Council of Westminster, Becket explicitly stated the rationale for his opposition to the King’s viewpoint:
“Yes, you are my lord, but He is my Lord and yours, and to neglect His will so that I comply with yours would not be good for you or me. For in his terrible tribunal we will both be judged as servants of one Lord, neither of us will be able to answer for the other, but each of us will, without excuses, receive according to his deeds. For worldly lords ought to be obeyed, but not against God.”[25]
Becket articulates that he recognized his place as a subject of Henry II and felt himself obligated to obey his lord’s commands. However, just as Catholic reformers like Pope Gregory VII and Peter Damian invoked the higher authority vested in the Papacy by God, Becket appealed to God’s will—a much higher form of metaphysical sovereignty than that of kings—to justify what he believed to be a defense of the Church’s liberty against his earthly lord. Similarly, the biographer William Fitzstephen characterized Henry’s dispute with his archbishop as fundamentally disordered, being akin to a son judging a father or sheep a shepherd. Rather than clashing with ecclesiastical authority, Fitzstephen strongly implied that Christian kings ought to submit to God’s (and the Church’s) superior authority.[26] As such, due to the strong motifs of the Church’s fundamental primacy and the obedience required of rulers found in the primary sources, Becket’s position strongly mirrored that of the Gregorian reformers.
Further similarities between the ideas of the Gregorian Reforms and the Archbishop’s stance lie in the demarcation of proper jurisdiction over ecclesiastical concerns. By striving to deprive lay rulers of the custom of investiture, the Church defined boundaries for what it deemed ecclesiastical matters under its domain. Likewise, when Becket opposed the transfer of clerical cases to royal courts and resisted the Constitutions of Clarendon, he drew an explicit line between the king’s prerogative and what he considered spiritual matters under the purview of the Church. These sentiments were further explicated in Roger of Pontigny’s account when the biographer invoked a Scriptural reference to “the two swords, the spiritual and material” (Luke 22:38) in differentiating between the proper powers of the kingdom of the world and the “kingdom of Christ the Lord.”[27] As the metaphorical spiritual sword, Becket and the Church claimed a monopoly over spiritual matters and thereby sought to preserve their institution’s liberty against the unjust encroachments of royal power.
The philosophical similarities between the Gregorian Reforms and the notions of ecclesiastical authority found in primary accounts of Becket’s struggle with the King indicate that the ideas behind the archbishop’s cause were conditioned by a broader set of intellectual developments. Likewise, King Henry II’s conception of royal power emerged from particular historical precedents of kingship modeled by his grandfather, Henry I (r. 1100-1135), and the chaos preceding his own reign. Henry II’s insistence on the rights due to the English sovereign during his conflict with Becket were heavily influenced by his grandfather’s close relationship with the Catholic Church. Henry I’s England was, in the words of the historian Norman Cantor, marked by “almost unchallenged royal supremacy over the English Church.”[28] While the ongoing Gregorian Reforms found traction amongst some members of the English clergy—for instance Anselm, the Archbishop of Canterbury (1033/4-1109), disputed with the English kings during the Investiture Controversy—in practical terms the Crown was incredibly powerful and exercised authority over the Church.
The ruler’s position, in turn, was underpinned by a theoretical framework of vassalage and theocratic kingship. As a natural lord, Henry I was stationed at the top of society’s hierarchy. Due to the authority implicit from a king’s socio-political status, Henry therefore could wield tremendous power and claim obedience from his vassals.[29] Such authority even extended over the Church, with kings from the period invoking long-held ideas of monarchical legitimacy stemming from their perceived appointment by God.[30] Thus, kings like Henry I espoused a strong vision of royal power that can be glimpsed through conventions of titulature. In compilations of English law issued during his reign (the leges Henrici Primi, c. 1115), Henry was described in glowing terms as the “glorious Caesar Henry” (gloriosus Caesar Henricus), opting for an imperial title over the more common designation of king (rex).[31] Significantly, this decision may be seen as an attempt by the King to assume the mantle of both temporal and divine authority, as the Roman Caesars were figures through whom “divine and secular law radiate[d] throughout the kingdom.”[32] By adopting a title associated with prestigious and expansive Roman forms of power, Henry bolstered his political legitimacy and conveyed his ideal of royal ascendancy.
The theoretical claim of kings to worldly authority was particularly evident in Henry I’s England, in matters relating to the Church. For example, prospective appointees to the clergy were reliant on the King’s support to be invested with their positions. When the monks of Westminster elected the pro-Gregorian Osbert of Clare as abbot for their monastery, Henry banished him and appointed a more pliant candidate in his stead to reduce the influence of Gregorian ideals. Additionally, the blending of lay and ecclesiastical went even further: Geoffrey Rufus served both as a royal official and a cleric, bearing the titles of the king’s chancellor and the Bishop of Durham.[33] Therefore—as seen through the control of clerical appointments via royal writ and the mingling of secular and spiritual vocations—Henry I had tremendous power over the English Church and thereby set a concrete precedent for Henry II to follow during the Becket affair.
The chaotic reign of Henry II’s direct predecessor, Stephen of Blois (r. 1135-1154) also greatly impacted Henry II’s emphasis on bolstering royal sovereignty. After the death of Henry I, the kingdom’s stability suffered due to the death of William Adelin, the only legitimate heir. Thus followed the Anarchy, a period of intense civil strife which saw Henry I’s daughter, Matilda, seek to claim the throne from Stephen.[34] Amidst the ensuing civil war, the social unity that existed under Henry I was shattered. Stephen—facing pressure from Matilda and her Plantagenet allies and unable to exert his authority over the Church due to the turmoil—granted many concessions to the Church including the freedom to appoint ecclesiastical positions and to exercise full authority over spiritual matters, thus leaving the Church strengthened.[35]
Henry II ascended to the throne in the context of tremendous political instability. Following the civil war, Henry’s strident defense of the king’s traditional rights and authority was influenced by both his desire to overcome the precarious years of the Anarchy and by Henry’s concrete vision of strong kingship in the mold of Henry I in opposition to the now emboldened Church. Contemporaneous criticisms of Becket juxtaposed motifs of peace and strife. The pro-royal Bishop of London, Gilbert Foliot, deeply resented the tensions caused by the archbishop’s conflict with the king. In a letter to his clerical brethren, Foliot charged, “Under our good king [Henry II], all rejoiced, everyone lived happily,” until “anger was inflamed, and hatred strongly secured,” by Becket.[36] Foliot’s broad concerns with domestic stability reflect widespread fear amongst Henry II’s supporters that Becket’s behavior could trigger a potential return to civil strife that characterized Stephen’s reign.
Henry II’s fear of a rebellious Church causing political instability provided further motivation for him to seek a return to a stronger conception of kingship as set by his ancestors. Indeed, the influence of the traditionally strong English Crown is reflected from the onset of Henry II’s dispute with Thomas Becket. The King’s insistence that Philip of Broi’s case be adjudicated in a royal court rather than an ecclesiastical court may be seen as a reassertion of royal authority. This was Henry II’s attempt to extend his sovereignty and thereby return to the tight-woven relationship between Church and State enjoyed under Henry I. To preface the Constitutions of Clarendon, the King explicitly invoked his grandfather’s legacy and called for “the record and acknowledgment of a certain portion of the customs, liberties and privileges of his ancestors, that is of Henry I and of others, which ought to be observed and maintained in his kingdom.”[37] By specifically citing Henry I’s reign, Henry II urged a return to his ancestors’ expansive ideal of kingship by restoring royal customs.
Additionally, older English conceptions of God-appointed royal sovereignty and privilege can also be glimpsed in the Becket affair. In a letter remonstrating with the Archbishop over his excommunication of royal supporters, several bishops appealed to the English ideal of kingship. They placed an emphasis on Henry II’s divinely inspired right to rule and past ruling practices to reinforce royal authority over the Church, with their letter urging Thomas to respect long standing traditions in order to maintain domestic peace.[38] As such, the idealized precedent of royal power set by former English kings undeniably influenced Henry II’s stance during the dispute.
The Constitution of Clarendon was essential to Henry II’s ideal of royal restoration. The document concretized this ideal by laying out sixteen ancestral customs claimed by the King, many of which were condemned by the Pope since they blatantly infringed on the Church’s liberty. For instance, in response to Becket’s resistance to trying religious clerks in royal courts, the Constitutions gave lay authorities greater say in such cases. Likewise, the Constitutions also stipulated that members of the clergy could not leave the realm without permission from the king—a rule broken by the archbishop when he fled to France after the Council of Northampton.[39] Such provisions further exemplify the enactment of the King’s vision of royal power. By regulating the Church’s freedoms, Henry II restored the Crown’s long-established tight control over religious society.
Therefore, as seen through his emphasis on the renewal of ancestral customs, stability, and the extension of royal power over the Church, Henry II’s conception of kingly sovereignty during his dispute with Becket was strongly colored by England’s historical context. Leaning on the precedent of royal supremacy set during the reign of Henry I and eager to restore his kingdom after the chaos of King Stephen’s time, Henry II and his supporters demanded that Becket and the Church respect God-ordained royal authority and accept the proper customs due to the monarch.
Given the influence of the era’s broader spiritual and political context, the debate over proper authority heavily conditioned the murder itself by making possible a hitherto unprecedented act of violence. Violence against members of the clergy in twelfth century England was rare. As shown in an article by the historian Hugh M. Thomas, no bishops were murdered in England during the twelfth century except Becket. While some clerics were killed in France and Germany, ecclesiastics commanded great respect in a deeply Catholic society.[40] When utilized, extrajudicial violence by lay people against the clergy was generally grounded in tactics of intimidation such as threats or humiliation— not physical harm. For example, during Becket’s lifetime a confrontation occurred between the Earl of Arundel and the prior of Wymondham Abbey when an armed band of men raided the Abbey, attempted to steal a horse, and threatened the Abbot of Wymondham.[41] As demonstrated by the above case, violence against Catholic clergy was a possibility in Angevin England, but was largely restrained in nature.[42] The murder of Thomas Becket was therefore an unprecedented, unusual act which requires further explanation.
At the start of the dispute, more conventional forms of pressure were used against Becket and his followers. The King tried to coerce Thomas into recognizing his authority at the Council of Northampton through legal means, humiliating him with criminal charges. However, as the dispute dragged on, there was a shift towards extrajudicial violence. When Becket fled into exile on the continent, for instance, Henry II had a quantity of the Archbishop’s lands seized and redistributed to loyal lay courtiers who were subsequently excommunicated.[43] The violence grew worse when Becket returned to England in late 1170. After being verbally threatened by a knight, Ranulf de Broc, several attacks on Becket’s property transpired. A ship carrying the Archbishop’s wine was captured and several of his sailors killed, while one of his horses had its tail insultingly cut off.[44] Such instances are in line with the broader context of anticlerical violence at the time. While Becket’s property was targeted and his person threatened, all the force used prior to his murder was controlled and, as in other cases, likely designed to frighten, humiliate, and coerce rather than physically harm.
The unique circumstances that increased tensions between royal and ecclesiastical authority explain why Reginald FitzUrse and the other knights so dramatically violated these traditional norms of intimidation towards members of the Church. The various meetings between Thomas and Henry II were marked by intransigence on both sides, an obstinacy fueled by their stark differences in opinion. Thus, tensions between the Crown and the Church steadily escalated over time. For example, at Becket and Henry II’s first meeting over the Philip of Broi case at the Council of Westminster, the Archbishop adamantly defended the Church’s liberty and sovereignty as mandated by Gregorian ideals, even after his fellow clergy urged him to accept the king’s will.[45] Likewise, themes of ecclesiastical power were evident in the later Constitutions of Clarendon, particularly when the Archbishop refused to affix his seal to the document.[46] While forced under duress to accept the Constitutions, Becket’s refusal to apply his seal, a symbol of his authority, represented a brazen delegitimization of the King’s customs. Therefore, Becket’s insistence on defending his assertive position on the Church’s liberty at various junctures—defiantly weathering his trial at Northampton, fleeing abroad in violation of the Constitutions of Clarendon, wielding his power as archbishop to excommunicate royal officials while in exile—all succeeded in escalating the controversy and further alienating himself from the King’s good graces.
Henry II’s actions further exacerbated the dispute. By seeking to expand the reach of royal authority through the Philip of Broi incident and the Constitutions of Clarendon, the King gave Becket reason to defend the Church from a perceived violation of its liberties at instances such as Clarendon, Northampton, and Beckett’s exile abroad. During the beginning of diplomacy between the two camps in 1167, negotiations broke down when it became known that the royal party would not accept the explicit abolition of the king’s customs.[47] The King’s refusal to grant concessions during the negotiations further hardened tensions between the two men.
After peace was made at Fréteval and Thomas was about to return to England, Becket received news that Henry’s son was crowned as heir by other bishops, thus circumventing the traditional role of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Becket, aghast at the “presumptuous coronation,” swiftly had all the bishops who took part in the crowning excommunicated.[48] As Becket reacted to this perceived disruption of his authority, the King and his subjects in turn gave a jarring response to the excommunications. Henry, “white with fury,” raved against Becket and labeled him a traitor: “A man… who has eaten my bread, who came to my court poor, and I have raised him high— now he draws up his heel to kick me in the teeth! He has shamed my kin, shamed my realm; the grief goes to my heart, and no one has avenged me!”[49] Considering that their long, arduous dispute had just been concluded at Fréteval, Becket’s latest excommunications could only have been received as a breach of the peace and as a personal affront by the king and his men. Thus, much of the dispute between the archbishop and king was marked by worsening relations and escalation, namely due to actions inspired by their strongly held notions of authority and sovereignty. Indeed, it was a question of authority which sparked the final series of events leading to Thomas’ murder.
Once Henry learned of Becket’s excommunications and flew into an impassioned rage, the murderers departed from the King’s court and set out for Canterbury. Taken in the longer context of escalation, recrimination, and threats over their festering disagreements, Becket’s adverse reaction to the coronation was only a last spark to a veritable powder keg. Furthermore, considering how the controversy was conditioned by competing ideals of royal and ecclesiastical authority from its genesis to its bloody end, it was the convergence of Henry’s ambition to return his kingdom to the stability and strong traditions of kingship, exercised by his ancestors, with Becket’s Gregorian principles which eventually led the archbishop’s violent death. While it is unclear whether Thomas’ demise was premeditated by the king, it is certain that his murder was heavily influenced by the broader ideational currents at play in twelfth century England. The irreconcilability of these competing ideals, in turn, escalated tensions—ones that were lethally exacerbated by the coronation and Thomas’ excommunications. As such, the Becket affair speaks to the power of ideas as drivers of history, particularly in relation to the fraught tug-of-war between clerical and lay power in medieval Europe during the 1100s.
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[1] Edward Grim, “The Murder (29 December 1170),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 201.
[2] Grim, “The Murder,” 198.
[3] Grim, “The Murder,” 201.
[4] Grim, “The Murder,” 202.
[5] Grim, “The Murder,” 203.
[6] Michael Staunton, introduction to The Lives of Thomas Becket (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 7.
[7] Staunton, introduction, 33.
[8] Staunton, introduction, 1-2.
[9] Staunton, introduction, 4-5.
[10] Staunton, introduction, 14.
[11] Staunton, introduction 16-17.
[12] Staunton, introduction, 18.
[13] Staunton, introduction, 22.
[14] Staunton, introduction, 23.
[15] Staunton, introduction, 25.
[16] Staunton, introduction, 27.
[17] W.L. Warren, Henry II (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973), 507.
[18] Staunton, introduction, 28.
[19] Uta-Renate Blumenthal, The Investiture Controversy: Church and Monarchy from the Ninth to the Twelfth Century (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1988), 71.
[20] Blumenthal, The Investiture Controversy, 72.
[21] Blumenthal, The Investiture Controversy, 72.
[22] Blumenthal, The Investiture Controversy, 119.
[23] Gregory VII, “Letter of Gregory VII to Bishop Hermann of Metz; March 15, 1081,” in Documents of the Middle Ages, ed. Ernest F. Henderson (London: George Bell and Sons, 1896), https://avalon.law.yale.edu/medieval/inv14.asp.
[24] Gregory VII, “First Deposition and Banning of Henry IV by Gregory VII; February 22, 1076,” in Documents of the Middle Ages, ed. Ernest F. Henderson (London: George Bell and Sons, 1896), https://avalon.law.yale.edu/medieval/inv04.asp.
[25] Roger of Pontigny, “Thomas is forced to submit to the royal customs (winter 1163-64),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 84.
[26] William Fitzstephen, “The Council of Northampton (6-12 October 1164),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 108.
[27] Roger of Pontigny, “Beginning of the troubles (summer 1163),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 75.
[28] Norman Cantor, Church, Kingship and Lay Investiture in England, 1089-1135 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1958), 279.
[29] Cantor, Church, Kingship and Lay Investiture in England, 279.
[30] Cantor, Church, Kingship and Lay Investiture in England, 13.
[31] Cantor, Church, Kingship and Lay Investiture in England, 280.
[32] Cantor, Church, Kingship and Lay Investiture in England, 280.
[33] Cantor, Church, Kingship and Lay Investiture in England, 293.
[34] José Antonio López Sabatel, “The Understanding of the Conflict Between Henry II and Thomas Becket in the Political Context of the Reign of King Stephen,” Cuadernos Medievales 34, no. 1 (June 2023): 53.
[35] Sabatel, “The Understanding of the Conflict Between Henry II and Thomas Becket,” 56.
[36] Gilbert Foliot, “Gilbert Foliot’s case against Thomas,” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 227-28.
[37] Henry II, “The Constitutions of Clarendon (January 1164),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 91.
[38] Gilbert Foliot, “The Bishops’ Appeal,” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 222.
[39] Henry II, “The Constitutions of Clarendon,” 93.
[40] Hugh M. Thomas, “Shame, Masculinity, and the Death of Thomas Becket,” Speculum 87, no. 4 (2012): 1072.
[41] Thomas, “Shame, Masculinity, and the Death of Thomas Becket,” 1054.
[42] Thomas, “Shame, Masculinity, and the Death of Thomas Becket,” 1055.
[43] Herbert of Bosham, “Conference between Gisors and Trie (18 November 1167),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 153.
[44] William Fitzstephen, “Thomas is prevented from visiting the young king (c. 8-13 December 1170),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 186-87.
[45] Summa Causae Inter Regem et Thomam, “The Council of Westminster (October 1163),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 81.
[46] Roger of Pontigny, “Thomas is persuaded to submit to the royal customs,” 90-91.
[47] Herbert of Bosham, “Conference Between Gisors and Trie,” 151.
[48] William Fitzstephen, “The settlement at Fréteval and its aftermath (July-November 1170),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 181.
[49] Garnier of Pont-Sainte-Maxence, “The bishops complain to the king (c. 23-24 December 1170),” in The Lives of Thomas Becket, ed. Michael Staunton (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2001), 188.