DURING the course of the past few years the tide of religious feeling had been rising. The recent exactions had been occasioned by the fact that Henry II himself had 'taken the Cross', pledging himself thus to go on Crusade to deliver the Holy Land from the infidel. He had died without being able to fulfil his vow; but his son and successor, Richard Lion-Heart, ascended the throne pledged to the great enterprise, and determined to carry it into effect. For the first time Crusading enthusiasm—hitherto at a low ebb—spread throughout England among all classes, from highest to lowest. It was inevitable that the feeling against the Jews was accentuated. The heavy exactions of the previous reign, of which they had been to some extent the instruments, were not forgotten, and there was little prospect that the policy of the government would change. Increasing numbers and prosperity were a prolific cause of jealousy. In 1179 Pope Alexander III had felt obliged to exhort the king to protect the monks of St. Augustine's, Canterbury, in their business dealings with the Jews, which must have been of considerable volume. 1 The anti-Jewish legislation of the Third Lateran Council of that same year had applied to England as to other countries. The recent succession of Blood Accusations marked the direction and intensity of the current. The ground was thus fully prepared for an outbreak in the continental style, which England had hitherto escaped. It was an unfortunate coincidence, if nothing more, that the Assize of Arms had left the Jews helpless, without the prospect of defending themselves as other men could when the storm broke. A trivial episode at the coronation of the new king proved to be the spark which set the tinder ablaze. The proceedings at Westminster were long and stately, and the solemnity of the occasion was emphasized by a proclamation ordering that no woman, and no Jew, should be admitted. 2 Nevertheless, on the afternoon of the coronation day (Sunday, September 3rd, 1189), while the festivities were at their height, a deputation from the Jewish communities of the kingdom presented itself at the gateway of Westminster Hall, bearing rich gifts—probably in the hope of obtaining a renewal of the charter of privileges granted originally by Henry I. Some of them, eager to see the magnificence, took advantage of a momentary disorder to slip in, and were driven out by a zealous doorkeeper with unnecessary brutality. This was enough to arouse the crowd at the palace gates. Several members of the deputation were beaten or trampled to death before they could escape. The wealthy Benedict, who had come as one of the representatives of the community of York, saved his life by consenting to embrace Christianity, and was immediately baptized in the adjacent Church of the Innocents by a priest from his own city. Exaggerated rumours of what was happening at Westminster soon spread to London, where it was reported that the king had given orders for the Jews to be exterminated. In their well built stone houses, the inhabitants were able to resist for some hours until, towards nightfall, one of the mob threw up a lighted torch which set fire to a thatched roof. The flames rapidly spread, and before long the whole of the Jewry was in a blaze. Though some of the inhabitants found refuge in the Tower of London or under the protection of friendly neighbours, several perished in their houses, and others were done to death when they ventured into the street. Thirty persons lost their lives, amongst them being the eminent Rabbi Jacob of Orleans, not long since arrived from the Continent. The news was reported to the king as he sat banqueting. He immediately dispatched the justiciar, Ranulph de Glanville, to check the disorders, but he was unable to make any impression. The outbreak had indeed been of so universal a character, and enjoyed such general sympathy, that it was not considered advisable to take serious measures against those who had participated. Nevertheless, some of the ringleaders were arrested, and three were hanged—one for robbing a Christian and two because the fire they had kindled burned down a Christian house. Little else was done except to dispatch letters to all parts of the kingdom ordering the Jews to be left in peace. The day after the riot Richard sent for Benedict of York, who admitted that he had adopted Christianity only in order to escape death. Turning to the archbishop of Canterbury, the king inquired how he should be dealt with. 'If he will not serve God, let him serve the devil', replied the prelate: and his contemptuous advice was followed. 3 The royal proclamation was sufficient to secure the maintenance of peace only so long as the king was in the country. In December he crossed to the Continent, and for six months remained in France gathering his forces. Meanwhile, in every town in England, Crusading detachments were assembled in readiness for departure overseas. Their reasoning was similar to that of Crusaders everywhere: that it was not right to allow Jewish infidels to enjoy their ill-gotten riches undisturbed at home, while the soldiers of the Cross were facing untold dangers to combat Moslem infidels overseas: the redemption of the Holy Sepulchre, and the avenging of the Crucifixion, should begin in England itself. There was a widespread impression that the slaughter of a single paynim would gain Paradise even for the most hardened sinner. Unhappily, the assembly of the Crusaders coincided with the season of Lent, when the deepest-rooted religious passions were aroused and the most inflammatory recollections revived. Early in February the first outbreak took place at the port of Lynn, in Norfolk (subsequently King's Lynn). Here, a recent apostate from Judaism took refuge from the insults of his former coreligionists in a church, where the latter had the imprudence to follow him. 4 The consequent uproar developed into a riot, in which foreign sailors in port took a leading part. The community was all but exterminated, the houses being stormed an pillaged, and the inhabitants butchered or burned in the flames which destroyed a good part of the city. 5 A few days after, the news reached Norwich, the principal town in the eastern counties, where the example was followed (February 6th), though most of the Jews took refuge previously in the royal castle. Large numbers of Crusaders and others meanwhile assembled at Stamford for the Lent Fair. 'Indignant that the enemies of the cross of Christ who dwelt there should possess so much when they had not enough for the expenses of so great a journey', 6 they made a similar attack, putting to the sword all who did not get to the castle in time. The houses in the Jewry were pillaged, and a large amount of property was seized (March 7th). At the populous city of Lincoln, most of the Jews were able to put themselves and their valuables under the protection of the royal officers in good time, but much havoc was effected nevertheless. Further attacks appear to have taken place in Colchester, Thetford, and Ospringe. 7 At other places, not mentioned in the records, there may also have been outbreaks, for a contemporary tells us that it was only at Winchester, thanks to the phlegmatic nature of the citizens, that the Jews were unscathed; but, as if to compensate, this city was the scene of a ritual murder accusation two years later. 8 At Dunstable it is reported that the entire diminutive community saved itself from massacre by submitting to baptism. Jewish tradition preserved the memory of one place containing a small congregation of twenty-two souls who were exterminated without exception. 9 The worst outbreak of all, which has survived in the recollection of both the English and the Jewish peoples as a classical example of stark tragedy, took place at York. Here, the existence of a community is first recorded in the year 1130, but in such terms as to make it evident that it had already been established for some years and was of considerable importance. Under Henry II it had grown in wealth and numbers. It was one of the principal seats of Aaron of Lincoln's activity, and had apparently attracted some distinguished settlers from the Continent. The local baronage was heavily indebted to the Jews— particularly Richard Malebysse (Malbis), whose fierce temper led him to be nicknamed by his creditors 'the Evil Beast'. On hearing the news of the southern outbreaks, he and various members of the Percy, Faulconbridge, and Darrel families determined to seize the opportunity to wipe out their indebtedness. One stormy March night, when an outbreak of fire caused confusion in the city, a number of the conspirators broke into the house of Benedict of York (who had died of his wounds on his way back from London), murdered his widow and all the other persons whom they found there, seized all the movable property and set the building in flames. The next morning, the other Jews (headed by Benedict's colleague Josce, who had been one of the principal agents of Aaron (of Lincoln) sought refuge with their more precious belongings in the castle, leaving only a few subordinates behind as caretakers. Following the example set at Norwich and Lincoln, the Warden did what he could to protect them, allowing them to take up quarters in the keep subsequently called Clifford's Tower, which stood isolated on an artificial mound. A few nights later, an assault was delivered on Josce's residence, those left in it being butchered. Popular feeling and greed were now thoroughly aroused, and the few Jews who remained in the city were given the alternative of baptism or death. The refugees in the castle became more and more apprehensive, and in the end, anticipating treachery, refused admittance even to the Warden. The latter applied for help to the sheriff, John Marshall, who rashly summoned the armed forces of the county to assist in recovering the stronghold. That evening (it was Friday, March 16th, 1190—the eve of the 'Great Sabbath' before Passover, and two days before Palm Sunday according to the calendar of the Church) a terrible scene occurred. The venerable Rabbi Yomtob of Joigny (a poet and legalist, one of whose hymns is still chanted in most Synagogues on the Eve of Atonement) urged his co-religionists to anticipate their inevitable fate in heroic fashion. Fire was set to their valuables, and by the light of the flames, which soon set the whole building in a blaze, the proposal was carried into effect. The number of victims was reported to exceed one hundred and fifty, besides those who met their death in the town : among them being probably Rabbi Elijah of York, whose opinions were cited with respect by the Rabbinical authorities on the Continent. The last to die were Josce and Rabbi Yomtob, who killed the former before making away with himself. Next morning at daybreak, when the besiegers gathered to deliver the final assault, the few who had not succumbed were persuaded to throw open the gates, with a promise of clemency if they embraced Christianity. As they ventured out, they were set upon and massacred to a man. Immediately the butchery was over, the ringleaders went to the Cathedral and forced the sacristan to give up the bonds which the Jews had deposited there. These they burned on the floor of the Minster, kindling the flames from the light on the High Altar. All the attendant circumstances go to indicate that the outbreak was at least as much economic as religious in origin. 10 Not long afterwards, the majority of those responsible left for the Crusade. The handful of survivors were removed to London as soon as order was re-established (their transport cost only eight shillings). 11 It was many years before any community was re-established at York, and it never again attained the importance which it had enjoyed before that fiery night. 12 The communities of Lynn and York were not the only ones which came to an end at this time. Under the walls of the great monastery of Bury St. Edmunds a relatively considerable Jewish community had grown up in the twelfth century. During the loose rule of the Abbot Hugh (1173-80) the house fell deeply into their debt. This was largely owing to the improvidence of the sacristan and cellarer, who borrowed on their own responsibility sums which increased at interest with startling rapidity: though the greatest individual creditor was, as it happened, a Christian. The sacristan, William, was on friendly terms with the local Jews, allowing them to deposit their deeds and money in his charge, and to lodge their wives and children in the refectory in time of disorder. In return, they strenuously favoured his claims to be elected abbot on the death of Hugh in 1180. One of the first actions of Abbot Samson, the successful candidate, was to depose the sacristan from office. Immediately afterwards, he set about freeing the monastery from the burden of debt in which it had become involved. 13 The rapid growth of anti-Jewish feeling in the little monastic town is indicated by the ritual murder accusation which took place there, with the connivance of the monks, in the interregnum before Abbot Samson's election, when the child Robert was alleged to have been murdered (June 10th 1181). The ground was thus amply prepared for more violent manifestations. The day after the tragic occurrences at York, on Palm Sunday, 1190, a massacre took place, fifty-seven Jews being killed. Shortly afterwards, Abbot Samson procured a writ from the sovereign, authorizing the survivors (there cannot have been many) to be expelled from the town, on the ground that all its inhabitants ought to be vassals of St. Edmund. An armed escort was provided to conduct the exiles to their new places of residence. Henceforth, they were allowed to stay in the town for no longer than two days at a time for the purpose of collecting their debts, a sentence of excommunication being pronounced against any person who should give them further hospitality. The news of these tragic happenings was not long in reaching the Continent; and it was soon substantiated by the splendid manuscripts pillaged at York, which were brought to Cologne for sale. For the first time Jewish historians incorporated the sufferings of the communities of England in their martyrologies, and Rabbi Menahem ben Jacob, of Worms, bewailed what had taken place in a heart-broken elegy:
The news of the outbreak at York reached the ears of the king (who was still in France completing his preparations) through a special messenger dispatched on Easter Monday. 15 The impression made on him and his advisers was profound. Any breach of the peace was manifestly against public policy, even if infidels only were concerned: and the Jews had been specifically taken into the royal protection not many months before. Moreover—and this was more important—the Exchequer stood to lose heavily, both by the impoverishment of the Jews who survived and by the despoiling of those who had perished, part at least of whose property would normally have escheated to the Crown on their demise. Accordingly, when William Longchamp (bishop of Ely, and chancellor and co-justiciar of the kingdom, who happened to be with the king at the time) returned to England after the holyday, he was instructed to take vigorous proceedings against the culprits. Early in May he sent his brother Osbert north with an armed force to stamp out any embers of disorder, following him a little later to administer justice. The panic-stricken citizens of York denied complicity in the outrages, while the baronial ringleaders fled to Scotland before they could be touched. However, the estates of seven fugitives were confiscated (though subsequently restored), fines were inflicted upon some fifty prominent burghers, and hostages for future good conduct were sent in custody to Northampton. The sheriff was punished by removal from office, being replaced by Longchamp's brother. Not a single capital penalty was indeed inflicted, but few outbreaks against the Jews in medieval times gave rise to proceedings so drastic. On the other hand, it was observed that punishment fell most heavily on the adherents of the Percies, the relatives and allies of Longchamp's rival and co-justiciar, the Bishop of Durham. 16 For the restoration of the destroyed keep, in which the tragedy had occurred, an expenditure of over £200 was necessary in the course of the year. 17 From York the chancellor proceeded to Lincoln, taking with him sixty pairs of fetters to secure the prisoners whom he anticipated. But he under-estimated, for in the event no less than eighty persons belonging to all classes in the city were arraigned, though punished only by fine. 18 By now Richard was immersed in the final preparations for his Crusade, which officially opened at the beginning of July. The enterprise was brilliant as a military achievement, though not peculiarly successful in its object. It was brought to a conclusion in 1192 by a three-year truce with Saladin, which protracted the life of the attenuated Frankish kingdom in Palestine for a little longer, and secured Christian pilgrims access to Jerusalem. While he was in the East it is reported that Richard invited the great Jewish philosopher and physician, Moses Maimonides (then medical attendant to the governor of Egypt), to enter his service. 19 Fortunately perhaps for himself and for posterity, the sage preferred Cairo to London. On his return journey (it is a familiar story) Richard was captured by his old enemy, the Duke of Austria, who in turn handed him over to the Emperor Henry VI. A humiliating treaty and a ransom of £100,000 were the price of his release. In England every fibre was strained in order to raise the amount. The Jews, as always, contributed disproportionately, being assessed at 5,000 marks, or three times as much as the burghers of London (incomparably the wealthiest city of the realm). Their representatives were summoned to meet at Northampton on March 3oth, 1194, to decide what amount each community should pay towards this sum. The Northampton Donum, as it is called, which records the outcome of their deliberations, is a particularly valuable record of medieval English Jewry. It reveals the presence of Jews in about twenty major communities, as well as in a number of minor places scattered throughout the country. The most important centres were London, Lincoln, Canterbury, Northampton, and Gloucester, each with from twenty to forty contributors, these being the most affluent men of affairs in each place. The concentration of the greater capitalists in London is indicated by the fact that its contribution easily exceeded that of Lincoln and Northampton combined, whereas the number of direct contributors mentioned is less than half of their total. York, Stamford, Dunstable, Lynn, and Bury, where the worst of the outbreaks of four years previous had occurred, are conspicuous by their absence. 20 The amount actually raised was only about one-half of what was demanded—a fact in which it does not seem unreasonable to see a reflection of recent tribulations. The king and his advisers had not forgotten the flouting of his authority by the rioters and the loss to the Exchequer that had ensued. It was the administrative genius of Hubert Walter, archbishop of Canterbury, that devised a means for preventing a repetition of the disaster. When the justices went 'on eyre' that autumn, for the administration of justice in the various parts of the kingdom, they were enjoined to conduct an inquiry into the events of 1190. Any person who had been implicated in the attacks and had not yet compounded for his offence was to be arrested. A diligent inquiry was to be made into the state of the affairs of the victims before their death—what had been in their possession, what sums had been owing to them, and what pledges they had held. All this was to be 'taken into the king's hands', so that those responsible should be prevented from profiting from their crime. 21 Finally, provision was made to safeguard the royal rights in case of future disorder. Two Exchequer officials (the first were William of Sainte-Mère-Èglise, future bishop of London, and William de Chimilli) were designated to supervise the affairs of the Jews, among other duties. Orders were given for all Jewish possessions and credits to be registered, and for six or seven cities (probably London, Lincoln, Norwich, Winchester, Canterbury, Oxford, and either Northampton, Cambridge, Gloucester, Nottingham, or Bristol) to serve as centres for all business operations in the future. In each of these places a bureau consisting of two reputable Jews and two Christian clerks was to be set up, under the supervision of a representative of the newly established central authority. All deeds and contracts were to be drawn up in duplicate, in the presence of these five officials, the counterparts being deposited in a chest (archa) provided with three locks and seals. As a final precaution every Jewish financier was to take a solemn oath upon the Hebrew Pentateuch, or Scroll of the Law, that he would register his transactions without concealment, and denounce to the authorities all forgeries or evasions that came to his notice. 22 Thus, however the Jews might be maltreated in future, the Treasury and its claims were safe; for the death of their creditors would merely place the debtors in the hands of the king, who was informed exactly of all outstanding claims. Thus also it became possible to control the affairs of the Jews themselves without leaving any loophole for evasion, thereby making the new system of arbitrary taxation temptingly simple. This organization rapidly developed. The central authority established in 1194 became extended into the institution of Wardens, or Justices, of the Jews. 23 When this office is first mentioned, in 1198, it was filled by three Christians working in collaboration with one Jew (the first were Simon of Pateshull, Henry of Winchenton, and Joseph Aaron on the one side, with Benedict of Talmont on the other). 24 After 1199 the last-named ceased to figure: no Jewish name is included thereafter, the Justices of the Jews being exclusively Christian. 25 Their number varied between two and five, though it was seldom that there were so many. The office was considered to be one of dignity as well as profit, and later on persons of the highest importance in the administration were sometimes appointed to fill it, though without giving up their other functions. The institution over which these officials presided became known as the Exchequer of the Jews—a department of the Great Exchequer of the realm. By degrees it expanded into something a good deal more important than the original plan had implied. There was a natural tendency for the financial departments of the central administration in England to develop judicial functions, as was the case with the Great Exchequer itself. In precisely the same way the activities of the Scaccarium Judaeorum, as it finally evolved, were not purely fiscal but at the same time administrative and judicial, though restricted to matters in which some Jewish transaction or activity was ultimately (though in some cases very remotely) involved. It naturally had complete control over the local centres. The half-dozen specified in the ordinance of 1194 were found insufficient—more by reason of the slowness of communications than pressure of business. Accordingly, a chirograph-chest was ultimately established in each of the principal Jewish centres in the country, some twenty-seven in number, including a few which were very small and owed their importance to the activity of a single individual. At times of popular unrest in subsequent years, the first object of the rioters would be to seize the archa and destroy the records of indebtedness that it contained. 26 In connexion with this organization there evolved the office of Presbyter judaeorum. This was not (as was once held) a 'Chief Rabbi', or spiritual head of the Jews of the country, but an officially appointed expert on Jewish affairs and activities generally a wealthy magnate—who was selected without any necessary regard to the general desire. 27 It arose probably out of the office of the Jewish representative amongst the Justices of the Jews, first emerging in the same year (at the beginning of the reign of John) in which the latter appears for the last time. The first incumbent was a certain Jacob of London, who immediately after Richard's death followed the new king to Normandy in order to urge his claim to office. In July 1199 he received at Rouen formal appointment to the Presbyterate, together with a safe-conduct home. Little is known as to his career, whether before or after promotion, though the terms of his appointment are indicative of cordial relations at Court. 28 He was succeeded in 1207 by a person of more eminence—Josce fil' Isaac, a grandson of Rubi Gotsce. His father, Isaac fil' Rabbi, the great financier of his day, survived his rival Aaron by some years and in 1180 secured from Richard I a confirmation for himself and his household of the Charter of Privileges which the tragic events of the previous year had prevented the communities of the realm from obtaining as a collectivity. His son, the new Arch-presbyter, inherited his father's position as a leader of London Jewry. He was, however, deposed some time before his death, being succeeded in turn by Aaron of York (1236), Elias le Eveske (1243), Hagin fil' Rabbi Moses of Lincoln (1258), and lastly Cok Hagin fil' Deulecresse (1281). To all of these we shall have occasion to return. With the development of this office, the organization of medieval English Jewry in its relation to the state was completed. The benefits of the mechanism for the exploitation of the Jews, perfected by the ministers of Richard I, were enjoyed by his successor. The ruling passion of John's nature, his rapacity, was the key too to his attitude towards the Jews. At the outset of the reign their contributions to the Exchequer were considerable, but not beyond their means. They paid therefore with good grace, and were rewarded by various privileges. Later, when his treasury was empty, the king set about extorting money from them by a series of desperate expedients which betray his short-sightedness. Thus he set the example of extortion which was followed with such fatal results, and over a far longer period, by his successor. The rebellious baronage moreover resented the assistance that the king derived from his Jewish chattels, who became identified more and more in their minds with the royal oppression. Hence the reign of John marks the beginning of the political, as distinct from the religious, reaction against the Jews amongst the English people. At the outset, there was no reason to anticipate this. Though the first acts of the new sovereign included the pardon and restoration to his possessions of Richard Malebysse (the ringleader of the York massacre of nine years before) 29 and the appointment of new Justices of the Jews, 30 this did not indicate the inauguration of an anti-Jewish policy. A Jew, Leo of Norwich, was royal goldsmith; 31 others received special grants of protection and favour; 32 and, in appointing Jacob of London presbyter judaeorum in 1199, John referred to him as 'well-beloved' (dilectus et familiaris noster)—a phrase generally reserved for the great officers of state. Two years later, on April 10th, 1201, the old exemplary charter of liberties for the Jews of England and Normandy was reissued, confirming their right to dwell in the country and to enjoy all the rights and liberties granted by previous sovereigns. 33 This concession cost the Jews of the realm 4000 marks—a sum so great in their reduced circumstances that they were compelled to pay it in four instalments. 34 This was only a minor detail of the revenue extracted by John from the Jews over and above their customary dues. He continued on a vast scale the example of exempting certain debtors, obviously for a monetary consideration, from the necessity of paying the Jews interest or even the capital of their debts; and he would generously make over to his favourites lands which had fallen into the hands of the mortgagees. The fines imposed on individuals rose to a fantastic level, the unfortunate Isaac of Norwich, for example, being mulcted in 10,000 marks, to be paid off at the rate of one mark daily over a period of nearly thirty years. 35 The cost of the French wars was in part defrayed by cancelling the debts due to the Jews by those willing to serve overseas. 36 When in 1205, in order to honour his mother's memory, John ordered a general release of all persons incarcerated in the kingdom, the Jews were among those expressly excluded from its scope. 37 This was presumably in connexion with an extraordinary levy recently made on them. Two high officials, including one of the Justices of the Jews, had been appointed to supervise it; peremptory instructions were sent to the sheriffs, urging them to greater efforts in their exactions, under dark threats that otherwise they would themselves be held responsible; 38 and the possibilities of evasion were minimized by an order forbidding the Jews to place their chattels in churches for safe-keeping. The assistance derived by the king so ostentatiously from his Jewish subjects bore its inevitable fruit in a deterioration of the relations between the latter and their Gentile neighbours. In London, in 1203, feelings ran so high as to necessitate a peremptory communication from the king to the mayor, taking the Jews under his protection ('If I give my peace even to a dog', he wrote contemptuously, 'it must be kept inviolate') , and threatening summary vengeance in case any attack on them should take place. 39 In 1206 there came a turning-point in Anglo-Jewish history, as in that of England as a whole. From the moment of the Jewish settlement, a century and a quarter before, the country had been closely connected—politically, culturally, and linguistically— with northern France. It was thence that the Jewish settlers had come in the first instance, and they remained bound to it by manifold ties. Like the nobility, English Jewry was to a certain extent Anglo-Norman in character. In fact, the Charters of Privileges conceded by successive sovereigns, from Henry I onwards, were issued to the Jews of England and Normandy, implying an association of organization as well as of interest between the communities of the two countries. However, in the years 1204-6, Normandy was lost through John's military incompetence. Once more England became, politically, an island—a fact of incomparable importance in English history. To the Jews the consequences were no less momentous than to the country at large. They, too, were henceforth cut off to a considerable extent from the great centres on the Continent. It was no longer easy for a Jewish family, like that of Rubi Gotsce, to carry on business simultaneously on both sides of the English Channel. 40 The influx from abroad was checked, the names of native scholars are henceforth more prominent, and England had to become intellectually self-supporting. The civil authorities accentuated this tendency, forbidding the Jews to appeal to continental scholars against the decisions of their own Rabbis. 41 On the other hand, it was his endeavours to recover Normandy which led John to weigh down the country with arbitrary taxation, and thus to hasten the decline of medieval Anglo-Jewry. It was not long before the change began to manifest itself. In 1210, on the king's arrival in Bristol after his fateful campaign in Ireland, he issued instructions for all the Jews of the kingdom (that is presumably, the wealthier householders and men of affairs) to be arrested and sent to him while a scrutiny was made into their resources—a process now simplified by the organization of the Exchequer of the Jews and its minute register of every Jewish business transaction. In consequence, on All Saints' Day (November 1st), they were tallaged for 66,000 marks, until the collection of which they were to be kept in prison. To facilitate payment, Jewish sheriffs were nominated in the various counties to distrain upon debtors and force them to pay their dues, which were transmitted forthwith to the Exchequer, 42 Since difficulty was still found in raising so great a sum, the property of those who were in arrears was ordered to be confiscated outright and sent to the Exchequer. Great cruelties were perpetrated upon the prisoners to make them reveal where their wealth was concealed; and the story of a Jew of Bristol, whose teeth were extracted one by one until his resistance broke down, became proverbial. 43 Even those of the poorest class, whose property was not sufficient to allow them to be assessed for tallage, had to pay a levy of forty shillings each, or else abjure the realm. 44 It was a ruinous act of persecution. Worst of all, it set a new fashion in the manner of exploiting the Jewish wealth, which was followed ruthlessly in the subsequent period whenever occasion demanded, and frequently when it did not. In the circumstances, England ceased to be a land of security and of prosperity, as in previous reigns. There was a considerable exodus from the kingdom, attaining such proportions that one chronicler actually speaks of a general expulsion in 1210 and in the following year several scholars joined a great pilgrimage of three hundred French and English Rabbis to Palestine—possibly to attend a synod on the writings of Maimonides. 45 The arrears of the Bristol Tallage were inexorably levied in the ensuing period, together with fresh exactions. Hardly had there been time for the Jews to recover a little from their losses when in 1213 a further inquiry into their property was ordered. 46 In the following year the sheriffs again brought pressure to bear upon them to pay their arrears. On this occasion those who pleaded penury were imprisoned at the other end of the country: thus, the recalcitrant members of the few Hampshire communities were dispatched to Bristol to be shut up in the castle, while the wealthiest member of Bristol Jewry was sent to the Tower of London. 47 Throughout the country the houses of Jews were confiscated and made over to royal favourites. 48 Large numbers fled the realm, none being allowed back unless he could give security that he would pay his dues. 49 So reduced were the once-wealthy Jews of London that in the words of the chronicler, 'they prowled about the city like dogs'. 50 The outbreak of civil war not long after made their position even worse. Violence became rife; and the barons, seeing in the Jews not only creditors but also the royal agents, considered them doubly deserving objects of attack. When London was occupied on May 17th, 1215, the Jewry was the first objective of the insurgents. It was ruthlessly sacked, the houses being demolished and the stone used to repair the City walls. When the Magna Carta was extorted from the king a short time later, the part which the Jews were forced to play as passive instruments of the royal exactions, and the unpopularity which they earned in consequence, was indicated by the tenth and eleventh clauses. In these it was stipulated that debts due to them or other usurers should bear no interest during the minority of the heir of a deceased debtor, and that if they fell into the king's hands in such circumstances (as might be the case, for example, if the creditor died) the capital only, without any interest, should he exacted. Similarly, a widow's dowry and the support of children under age was to be a first charge on every estate, debts contracted by the father being payable out of the residue only. These clauses, with the burning sense of grievance which underlies them, give some idea of the animosity with which the royal satellites were now regarded by those with whom they transacted their principal and most lucrative business. Had the reign continued, they would inevitably have known further attacks by the one side and further spoliation by the other. John's death in 1216, as he was preparing his revenge, unquestionably saved them from much fresh suffering. FootnotesChapter 2
|