Chapter XVI: Part 16

Half a mile from the southern wall of the city, on the brink of the ravine of Oreto, stands a church dedicated to the Holy Ghost, concerning which the Latin fathers have not failed to record that on the day on which the first stone of it was laid, in the twelfth century, the sun was darkened by an eclipse. On one side of it were the precipice and the river; on the other, the plain extending to the city, which in the present day is in great part divided by walls and dotted with gardens; while a square enclosure of moderate size, shaded by dusky cypresses, honeycombed with tombs, and adorned with urns and other sepulchral monuments, surrounds the church. This is a public cemetery, laid out toward the end of the eighteenth century, and fearfully filled in three weeks by the dire pestilence which devastated Sicily in 1837. On the Tuesday following Easter, at the hour of vespers, religion and custom drew crowds of people to this cheerful plain, then carpeted with the flowers of spring. Citizens, wending their way toward the church, divided into numerous groups. They walked, sat in clusters, spread the tables, or danced upon the grass; and--whether it were a defect or a merit of the Sicilian character--threw off, for the moment, the recollection of their sufferings.

Suddenly the followers of the Justiciary appeared among them, and every bosom thrilled with a shudder of disgust. The strangers came with their usual insolent demeanor, as they said, to maintain tranquillity; and for this purpose they mingled with the groups, joined in the dances, and familiarly accosted the women; pressing the hand of one, taking unwarranted liberties with others; addressing indecent words and gestures to those more distant, until some temperately admonished them to depart, in God's name, without insulting the women; and others murmured angrily; but the hot-blooded youths raised their voices so fiercely that the soldiers said to one another, "These insolent paterini must be armed, that they dare thus to answer," and replied to them with the most offensive insults, insisting, with great insolence, on searching them for arms, and even here and there striking them with sticks or thongs. Every heart already throbbed fiercely on either side, when a young woman, of singular beauty and of modest and dignified deportment, appeared with her husband and relations, bending her steps toward the church. Drouet, a Frenchman, impelled either by insolence or license, approached her as if to examine her for concealed weapons; seized her and searched her bosom. She fell fainting into her husband's arms, who, in a voice almost choked with rage, exclaimed, "Death, death to the French!" At the same moment a youth burst from the crowd which had gathered round them, sprang upon Drouet, disarmed and slew him; and probably, at the same moment, paid the penalty by the loss of his own life, leaving his name unknown and the mystery forever unsolved--whether it were love for the injured woman, the impulse of a generous heart, or the more exalted flame of patriotism that prompted him thus to give the signal of deliverance.

Noble example has a power far beyond that of argument or eloquence to rouse the people; and the erstwhile abject slaves awoke at length from their long bondage. "Death, death to the French!" they cried; and the cry--say the historians of the time--reechoed, like the voice of God, through the whole country, and found an answer in every heart.

Above the corpse of Drouet were heaped those of the slain on either side. The crowd expanded itself, closed in, and swayed hither and thither in wild confusion. The Sicilians, with sticks, stones, and knives, rushed with desperate ferocity upon their fully armed opponents. They sought for them and hunted them down. Fearful tragedies were enacted amid the preparations for festivity, and the overthrown tables were drenched with blood. The people displayed their strength and conquered. The struggle was brief, and great the slaughter of the Sicilians; but of the French there were two hundred--and two hundred fell!

Breathless, covered with blood, brandishing the plundered weapons, and proclaiming the insult and its vengeance, the insurgents rushed toward the tranquil city, "Death to the French!" they shouted, and as many as they found were put to the sword. The example, the words, the contagion of passion, in an instant aroused the whole people. In the heat of the tumult Roger Mastrangelo, a nobleman, was chosen--or constituted himself--their leader. The multitude continued to increase; dividing into troops they scoured the streets, burst open doors, searched every nook, every hiding-place, and shouting "Death to the French!" smote them and slew them, while those too distant to strike added to the tumult by their applause. On the outbreak of this sudden uproar the Justiciary had taken refuge in his strong palace; the next moment it was surrounded by an enraged multitude crying aloud for his death; they demolished the defences and rushed furiously in, but the Justiciary escaped them. Favored by the confusion and the closing darkness, he succeeded, though wounded in the face, in mounting his horse unobserved, with only two attendants, and fled with all speed. Meanwhile the slaughter continued with increased ferocity; even the darkness of night failed to arrest it, and it was resumed the next day more furiously than ever. Nor did it finally cease because the thirst for vengeance was slaked, but because victims were wanting to appease it. Two thousand French perished in this first outbreak. Even Christian burial was denied them, but pits were afterward dug to receive their despised remains, and tradition still points out a column surmounted by an iron cross, raised by compassionate piety on one of these spots, probably long after the perpetration of the deed of vengeance.

Tradition, moreover, relates that the sound of a word, like the _Shibboleth_ of the Hebrews, was the cruel test by which the French were distinguished in the massacre; and that, if there were found a suspicious or unknown person, he was compelled, with a sword to his throat, to pronounce the word _ciciri_, and the slightest foreign accent was the signal for his death. Forgetful of their own character, and as if stricken by fate, the gallant warriors of France neither fled nor united nor defended themselves. They unsheathed their swords and presented them to their assailants, imploring, as if in emulation of each other, to be the first to die. Of one common soldier it is recorded that, having concealed himself behind a wainscot, and being dislodged at the sword's point, he resolved not to die unavenged, and, springing forth with a wild cry upon the ranks of his enemies, slew three of them before he himself perished. The insurgents broke into the convents of the Minorites and Preaching Friars, and slaughtered all the monks whom they recognized as French. Even the altars afforded no protection; tears and prayers were alike unheeded; neither old men, women, nor infants were spared. The ruthless avengers of the ruthless massacre of Agosta swore to root out the seed of the French oppressors throughout the whole of Sicily; and this vow they cruelly fulfilled, slaughtering infants at their mothers' breasts and after them the mothers themselves, not sparing even pregnant women, but, with a horrible refinement of cruelty, ripping up the bodies of Sicilian women who were with child by French husbands, and dashing against the stones the fruit of the mingled blood of the oppressors and the oppressed. This general massacre of all who spoke the same language, and these heinous acts of cruelty, have caused the Sicilian Vespers to be classed among the most infamous of national crimes.

The very atrocity of the Vespers proved the salvation of Sicily, by cutting off all possibility of compromise. On that same bloodstained night of the 31st of March, the people of Palermo assembled in parliament, and, divided between the triumph of vengeance and terror at their own daring act, advanced still more decidedly in the path they had chosen. They abolished monarchy, and resolved to establish a commonwealth under the protection of the Church of Rome. They were moved to this determination by deadly hatred against Charles and his government, and the recollection of the stern rule of the Swabian dynasty on the one hand, and, on the other, by grateful remembrance of the liberty enjoyed in 1254; by the example of the Tuscan and Lombard republics, and by the natural pride of a powerful city, which having freed itself from a detested yoke confided in its own strength. The name of the Church was added in order to disarm the wrath of the Pope, to tempt his ambition, or to justify the rebellion under the pretext that in driving out their more immediate but criminal ruler they contemplated no infraction of loyalty to the suzerain from whom he held his power. Roger Mastrangelo, Henry Barresi, and Niccoloso of Ortoleva (knights), and Niccolo of Ebdemonia were proclaimed captains of the people with five counsellors. By the glare of torchlight on the bloody ground, amid the noise and throng of the armed multitude, and with all the sublime pomp of tumult, the republican magistrates were inaugurated. Trumpets and Moorish kettle-drums sounded, and thousands upon thousands of voices uttered the joyous cry of "The Republic and Liberty!" The ancient banner of the city--a golden eagle in a red field--was unfolded to wave amid new glories; and in homage to the Church the keys of St. Peter were quartered upon it.

At midnight, John of St. Remigio stayed his rapid flight at Vicari, a castle thirty miles distant from the capital; where, knocking loudly and hurriedly, he was with difficulty recognized by the garrison, half-drunk from the celebration of the same festival which had bred so fearful a slaughter in Palermo. Having admitted him, they were transfixed with amazement at seeing their Justiciary at so unreasonable an hour, unescorted, breathless, and covered with blood. John refused all explanation at the time, but the next morning at daybreak he called to arms all the French of the neighborhood--a feudal militia well inured to warfare--and breaking silence urged them to resist, and perhaps to avenge, the fate of their comrades. It was not long before the forces of Palermo, which had set out at dawn in pursuit of the fugitive--whose traces they had discovered--arrived at full speed beneath the walls of Vicari, and surrounded the city in disorder, impatient for the assault; but not perceiving how it was to be made, they had recourse to threats, and demanded immediate surrender, promising to the inhabitants the safety of their persons, and to John and his followers permission, on laying down their arms, to embark for Aigues-Mortes, in Provence. They, however, disdaining such conditions, and regarding the mob of assailants with contempt, made a vigorous sortie. At first military discipline obtained the advantage, and the Sicilians gave way, but the tide of battle was turned by a power beyond that of human skill, by the spirit which had given birth to the Vespers, and which suddenly blazed up again in the scattered squadrons. They paused--they looked at one another, "Death--death to the French!" they cried, and rushing upon them with irresistible fury, they drove back the veteran warriors into the fortress, defeated and in confusion. After this it was in vain that the French proposed terms of surrender. Heedless of the rules of war the young archers of Cacamo shot the Justiciary as he presented himself upon the walls, and, seeing him fall, the whole multitude rushed to the assault, occupied the fortress, put the garrison to the sword, and flung their corpses, piecemeal, to the dogs and to the vultures. This done, the host returned to Palermo.

Meanwhile, the fame of what had occurred spread rapidly from town to town, and the first in that neighborhood to rise was Corleone, as chief in population and importance, and also because of its numerous Lombard inhabitants, who held the names of Angevins and Guelfs in abhorrence, and of the intolerable burdens imposed upon it by the near neighborhood of the royal farms. This city, afterward surnamed the Valiant, boldly following the example of the capital, sent William Basso, William Corto, and Giugliono de Miraldo as orators to Palermo, to propose terms of alliance and fraternity between the two cities; mutual assistance in arms, forces, and money; reciprocal privileges of citizenship, and enfranchisement from all burdens laid upon such as were not citizens. It is not known whether the idea of the league originated with the republican rulers of Palermo or with the patriots of Corleone; but whichever may have been the case, it clearly exhibits the preponderance in those early days of the municipal tendency, and the exchange of feudal relations for the federal union of communities, the banner under which the revolution spread itself throughout the entire island. The assembled people of Palermo, with one voice, accepted the terms, and by their desire, on the 3d of April, they were sworn to on the Gospels by the captains and counsellors of the city, with the deputies of Corleone, and officially registered among the public acts; Palermo binding herself, moreover, to assist her ally in the destruction of the strong fortress of Calata Mauro.

Meanwhile, one Boniface, elected captain of the people of Corleone, went forth with three thousand men to scour the surrounding country. The royal farms were plundered and devastated; the herds, which had been carefully fattened for the army of the East, were confiscated to the service of the Sicilian revolution; the castles of the French were stormed, their houses sacked, and the massacre so ruthless that, according to Saba Malaspina, it seemed as if every man either had the death of a father, son, or brother to revenge, or firmly believed that the slaughter of a Frenchman was an act well pleasing to God. Thus, in a very few days, the movement propagated itself many miles around owing to the similarity of sentiments, the force of example, and the energy of the insurgents. In many places it assumed a character which must be inexplicable to those who, in spite of all that has been already stated, would persist in regarding these tumultuous outbreaks as the result of conspiracy; while the people showed the utmost readiness to put the foreigners to the sword, yet they feared to disown the name of King Charles. Their hesitation lasted but a few days, for they were carried away by the impulse of universal feeling and by the strength of the rebels; so that all, by degrees, declared themselves elected chiefs to lead their forces against the French, and captains of the people whom they sent to the capital, the fame of whose example had roused their courage, and which was now the centre of all their confidence, of all their hopes.

This first nucleus of the representatives of the nation being thus assembled in Palermo, they became imbued with the same valor which in one short night had raised a popular tumult to the dignity of a revolution. They were further encouraged by the manly energy of the people, who, mingled with insurgents from the surrounding towns, traversed the city to and fro, eagerly relating to one another the outrages they had suffered, and crying aloud, "Death rather than the yoke of the French!" So that no sooner were the syndics of the greater part of Val di Mazzara assembled in parliament, than they agreed to the establishment of the republican form of government conducted in the name of the Church. The people without responded with loud acclamations and shouts of "The Republic and Liberty!" All encouraged each other to venture everything, when Roger Mastrangelo, bent on urging them on so far that all retreat should be cut off and that they might be able to control the course of events, rose and boldly thus addressed the assembly:

"Citizens! I hear daring words and solemn oaths, but I see no symptoms of action, as if the blood that has been shed were the seal of victory rather than the provocation to a long and deadly struggle. Do you know Charles and his thousands of executioners, and can you yet amuse yourselves with the decoration of banners? Not far distant on the mainland are armies and navies ready for the Grecian war: there are the French panting for vengeance, and in a few days they will burst upon us. If they find our ports open for their disembarkation; if our inertness or our faults favor their progress they will soon spread throughout the whole of Sicily; they will subdue the irresolute people by force of arms, deceive them with reports of our unhappy divisions, seduce them with promises, and drag them back to the shameful yoke of bondage or drive them to raise their parricidal weapons against ourselves. You have sworn to die or to be free, and you will become slaves and will not all die--for the butchers will at length be weary--and will reserve the herd of survivors to exercise upon them their despotic will. Sicilians! remember the days of Conradin. To halt now will be destruction; to pursue our course, glory, and deliverance. Our forces are sufficient to raise the whole country as far as Messina, and Messina must not belong to the foe; we share the same origin, the same language, the same past glory and present shame, the same experience that slavery and misery are the result of division.

"All Sicily is stained with the blood of the strangers. She is strong in the courage of her sons, in the ruggedness of her mountains, in the protection of the seas, which are her bulwarks. Who then shall set foot upon her soil, except to find in it a yawning grave? Christ, who preached liberty to mankind, who inspired you to effect this blessed deliverance, now extends to you his almighty hand--if you will but act like men in your own defence. Citizens, captains of the people, it is my counsel that messengers be sent to all the other towns inviting them to unite with us for the maintenance of the commonwealth, that by force of arms, by daring, and by rapidity of action we should aid the weak, determine the doubtful, and combat the froward. For this purpose, let us divide into three bands which may simultaneously traverse the whole island, then let a general parliament mature our counsels, unite our views, and regulate the form of government; for I call God to witness that Palermo aspires, not to dominion, but seeks only liberty for all, and for herself the glory of being foremost in peril."

"And the people of Corleone," replied Boniface, "will follow the fortunes of this noble city--the fortress and ornament of Sicily. Corleone sends hither three thousand of her warriors to conquer or to die with you. But if our fate be to perish, let all those perish with us who would take part with the stranger in the day of the deliverance of Sicily. Thou, Roger, valiant in fight and sage in counsel, thou hast spoken words of safety. Henceforward he who lingers is a traitor to his country; let us arm ourselves and go forth."

"Forward, forward!" thundered the voice of the people in answer to his words, and with marvellous celerity the messengers were despatched; the forces assembled and sent forth in three divisions--one to the left toward Cefalu, one to the right upon Calatafimi, and the third toward the centre of the island, through Castro Giovanni. They displayed the banner of the commonwealth with the keys of St. Peter depicted around them, and their fame went before them, awakening hope and desire in all hearts. Hence every city and town unhesitatingly renounced its allegiance to Charles with a degree of unity which was admirable--except in regard to the slaughter of the French.

They were hunted down in the mountains and forests, assaulted and vanquished in the castles, and pursued with such fury that even to those who had escaped from the hands of the Sicilians life became a burden; and from the most impregnable fortresses, from the remotest hiding-places, they gave themselves up into the hands of the people who summoned them to die. Some even precipitated themselves from the towers of their strongholds. A very few, aided either by fortune or by their own valor, escaped with their lives, but were despoiled of everything, and these sought refuge in Messina. But the fate of William Porcelet merits especial remembrance. He was Lord or Governor of Calatafimi, and, amid the unbridled iniquity of his countrymen, was distinguished for justice and humanity. On the day of vengeance, in the full flush of its triumph and fury, the Palermitan host appeared at Calatafimi, and not only spared the life of William and of his family, but treated him with distinguished honor and sent him back to Provence--a fact which goes to prove, that for the excesses committed by the people, ample provocation had not been wanting.

Meanwhile the great object toward which every effort was directed was to gain over Messina to the cause of the revolution, for all comprehended the importance of her situation, of her seaport, and of the powerful and wealthy city herself--obviously marked out as the key-stone of the war--as well as the pressing necessity of obtaining her alliance or of making a desperate effort to subdue her by force of arms. Negotiations were therefore commenced. Of those which were private and the most efficacious no record has been handed down to us; but of those publicly conducted, a letter is still extant, dated from Palermo, the 13th of April, and despatched by messengers to Messina, which begins thus: "The Palermitans to the noble citizens of the illustrious city of Messina, bondsmen under Pharaoh in dust and mire--greeting, and deliverance from the servile yoke by the arm of liberty.

"Rise!" continues the epistle. "Rise, O daughter of Zion, and reassert thy former strength; ... cease thy lamentations, which only awaken contempt; take thy weapons, thy quiver and thy bow, and unbind the fetters from thy neck." It proceeds to speak of Charles as a Nero, a wolf, a lion, and a ferocious dragon; then reverting to Messina, it exclaims: "The voice of God says to thee, 'Take up thy bed and walk!' for thou art whole." And again it exhorts her citizens "to struggle with the old serpent, and, being regenerate, like new-born babes to suck the milk of liberty, to seek justice, and to fly from calamity and ignominy."

While the Palermitans sought to gain over the citizens by these Biblical metaphors, Herbert of Orleans strengthened himself with foreign arms and with the support of the Messinese nobles--who by abuses and oppression had exalted themselves above their fellow-citizens, and therefore now resolutely sided with the Vicar. But first he sent seven Messinese galleys to attack Palermo under the command of Richard de Riso, who in 1268 had dared with a few vessels to confront the whole Pisan fleet, and who was now to lose in civil war his honor as a citizen and his reputation as a leader; for uniting with four galleys from Amalfi, under the command of Matthew del Giudice and Roger of Salerno, he proceeded to blockade the port of Palermo, and, as he was unable to effect anything else, approached the walls and caused the name of Charles to be shouted aloud, together with insults and menaces to the citizens. They, however, with the long-suffering of conscious strength, replied that "they would neither return the insults nor his blows; the Messinese and Palermitans were brothers; the French oppressors their only enemies, and they would do better to turn their arms against the tyrants." With these words they hoisted the standard of the cross of Messina upon the walls beside the eagle of Palermo.

The city of Messina--or rather those who wielded the municipal authority--in order to prove their loyalty, on the 15th of April sent five hundred cross-bowmen, under the command of Chiriolo, a knight of Messina, to garrison Taormina and prevent its occupation by the insurgents. The people, on the other hand, felt their Sicilian blood boil as they received the news of the rising in Palermo and in the other cities, of the progress of the insurgents through the island, and of the slaughter and flight of the French, heightened by many false or exaggerated reports; and when they beheld the fugitives enter Messina, destitute and terror-stricken, they began to murmur and show animosity against the soldiers of Herbert. These, feeling themselves no longer safe in the city, withdrew--some to the castle of Matagrifone, some to the royal palace where Herbert resided. The latter, in an evil hour, decided on a display of energy. He sent ninety horsemen under Micheletto Gatta to occupy the defences of Taormina, as if unable to repose confidence in the Messinese garrison, and the latter, seeing them approach in such arrogant and almost hostile guise, and incited by a citizen named Bartholomew, received them with a cry of insulting defiance and a shower of arrows. The contest being thus engaged, forty of the French remained on the field. The rest fled precipitately for refuge to the castle of Scaletta; and the Sicilians, tearing down the banners of Charles, marched upon Messina to compel her to join the rebellion. In the city thousands were willing, but none had courage, for the work, till a man of the people--Bartholomew Maniscalco by name--conspired with several others to give the signal of action. Meanwhile, forces were preparing to repulse the insurgents from Taormina, and the more prudent of the citizens deplored the impending effusion of the blood of their brethren. The people were on the alert, nor did the conspirators hold back.

Perhaps the entrance into the port of a Palermitan galley, and the slaughter by her crew of a few French who had fallen into their hands, hastened the event. It was the 28th of April when, from the midst of the tumultuous crowd, broke forth the cries of "Death to the French! Death to those who side with them!" and the massacre commenced. The victims, however, were but few, as the previous threatening aspect of the people had cleared the city of the greater number of the French. Maniscalco meanwhile, with his confederates, hoisted the cross of Messina in the place of the detested banner of Anjou; for a brief space he was captain of the people, but owing either to his own modesty or to the influence of the more powerful citizens, which always prevailed in the industrial city of Messina, that same night, by their advice, he resigned the government to Baldwin Mussone, a noble returned but a few hours before, with Matthew and Baldwin de Riso, from the court of King Charles. On the following day, the municipal council having been assembled in form, Mussone was hailed captain by the entire people; and calling on the sacred name of Christ, the republic was proclaimed, under the protection of the Church. The gonfalon, or great banner of the city, was displayed with the utmost pomp. The judges Raynald de Limogi and Nicoloso Saporito, the historian Bartholomew of Neocastro, and Peter Ansalone were elected as counsellors of the new government; and all the public officers, even to the executioners, were likewise elected--as if to show that henceforward the sword of justice was to rule in place of disorder and violence. But it was yet too soon for so complete a revolution.

On the 30th of April the galleys were recalled from Palermo, whither messengers of friendship and alliance were despatched in their stead. Herbert, feeling himself no longer secure in the castle, had recourse to the old manoeuvre of fomenting divisions, but with no better success. He despatched Matthew, a member of the family of Riso--which from consciousness of guilt had allied itself with him--to endeavor to gain over Baldwin Mussone. Matthew accordingly sought him and in presence of all the other counsellors admonished him, using the arguments of a crooked policy, to reflect on the great power of the King, and that this insane tumult would deprive Messina of the advantages that would naturally accrue to her from the rebellion of Palermo. What were the Palermitans to him that he should share their madness? In what had Charles injured him or his city? "How is it possible," continued he, "that thou who wast but yesterday loyal to the King, a friend to us, and the companion of our journey, shouldst have secretly nourished such hatred in thy heart? and now, far from restraining the people from rushing to their ruin, shouldst spur them wildly on? For thy own sake, for that of thy country, return to thy senses--it is yet time."

But Baldwin, with a clearer comprehension of the honor and interests of the city, which were identical with those of Sicily, answered him indignantly, and neither counsellors nor citizens hesitated for a moment whether to prostitute Messina to the stranger or bid her share the freedom of the sister-cities of the island. Rejecting, therefore, these deceptive arguments, Baldwin, in the presence of Matthew de Riso, solemnly renewed his oath to maintain the liberty of Sicily or perish, and exhorted him to join in support of the same sacred cause. In conclusion, he desired him to return to Herbert, and offer him security for his own life and that of his soldiers, if leaving their arms, horses, and accoutrements, they would sail direct for Aigues-Mortes in Provence, binding themselves not to touch anywhere on the Sicilian or other neighboring coasts. The Viceroy agreed to these terms, but had no sooner traversed half the strait with two vessels than he broke them, and full of hostile designs landed in Calabria in order to join Peter of Catanzaro, who being advised of what was going forward had embarked before them with his Calabrians, abandoning his horses and baggage to the fury of the people. Theobald de Messi, castellan of the fortress of Matagrifone, and Micheletto--with those who had taken refuge at Scaletta--subsequently surrendered, with all their followers, on the terms granted to the Viceroy. The former, having embarked on board a small vessel, set sail several times, but was driven into port by contrary winds or adverse fate. The latter was shut up in the castle, and his soldiers in the palace, to protect them from the fury of the multitude. But these precautions availed not to save them. On the 7th of May the galleys returned from Palermo, bringing captive with them two of those of Amalfi which had accompanied them in the expedition, and the crew, inflamed either by example or indignation at the unnatural and useless attempt in which they had been employed against their fellow-countrymen, loudly demanded French blood to slake their thirst for vengeance. The citizens, meanwhile, were no less exasperated by Herbert's breach of faith; so that, as the galley of Natale Pancia, entering the port, grazed the vessel of Theobald de Messi, the crew, on a signal from the shore, sprang upon her deck, seized and bound the prisoners and flung them overboard to perish.

On beholding this spectacle the former fury blazed up afresh within the city; the mob, rushing to the palace, massacred the soldiers taken at Scaletta; the alarm-bells rang; the few partisans of the French concealed themselves in terror; the armed and bloodstained people poured in torrents through the streets, even the rulers of the city made no attempt to quell their fury; for Neocastro, who undoubtedly shared in their counsels, writes that they, on the contrary, advanced the more boldly in the path of revolution when they beheld the multitude so inextricably engaged.

EXPULSION OF JEWS FROM ENGLAND

A.D. 1290

HENRY HART MILMAN

Long persecuted in so-called Christian lands, the people
without a country--the Jews--first appeared in England
during the latter half of the eleventh century, a colony, it
is said, having been taken from Rouen to London by William
the Conqueror. These first-comers were, we are told, special
favorites of William Rufus. Little is seen of them under
Henry I, but in the reign of Stephen they are found
established in most of the principal towns, but dwelling as
a people apart, not being members of the State, but chattels
of the King, and only to be meddled with, for good or for
evil, at his bidding. Exempt from taxation and fines, they
hoarded wealth, which the King might seize at his pleasure,
though none of his subjects could touch it. The Jew's
special capacity--in which Christians were forbidden by the
Church to employ themselves through fear of the sin of
usury---was that of money-lender.

In this status the Jews remained without eventful history
until the latter part of the twelfth century, when the
crusading spirit had aroused a more intense hatred of the
race. At the coronation of Richard I (1189) certain of the
Jews intruded among the spectators, causing a riot, in which
the Jewish quarter was plundered; and this violence was
followed by a frenzy of persecution all over the land. A
rumor spread that the Jews were accustomed to crucify a
Christian boy at Easter, and this aroused the populace to
fury against them. Murder and rapine prevailed in several
places. Five hundred Jews, who were allowed to take refuge
in the castle at York, were there besieged by the townsmen,
in whom no offers of ransom could appease the thirst for
blood. These avengers were led on by their own clergy, with
the cry, "Destroy the enemies of Christ!" A rabbi addressed
his countrymen: "Men of Israel, it is better that we should
die for our law than to fall into the power of those that
hate it, and our law prescribes that we may die by our own
hands. Let us voluntarily render up our souls to our
Creator." Then all but a few of them burned or buried their
effects, and, after setting fire to the castle in many
places, the men cut the throats of their wives and children,
and then their own.

Richard I had special dealings with the Jews, the effectual
results of which were more securely to bind them as crown
chattels and to add to the royal emoluments. King John, well
estimating the importance of the Jews as a source of
revenue, began his reign by heaping favors upon them, which
only made his subjects in general look upon them with more
jealousy. Under Henry III both the wealth of the Jews and
the oppressions which laid exactions upon it increased; and
during the half-century preceding their expulsion from the
realm, their condition, as shown by Milman, became more and
more intolerable.

Jewish history has a melancholy sameness--perpetual exactions, the means of enforcing them differing only in their degrees of cruelty. Under Henry III the Parliament of England began, 1250, to consider that these extraordinary succors ought at least to relieve the rest of the nation. They began to inquire into the King's resources from this quarter, and the King consented that one of the two justices of the Jews should be appointed by parliament. But the barons thought more of easing themselves than of protecting the oppressed. In 1256 a demand of eight thousand marks was made, under pain of being transported, some at least of the most wealthy, to Ireland; and, lest they should withdraw their families into places of concealment, they were forbidden, under the penalty of outlawry and confiscation, to remove wife or child from their usual place of residence, for their wives and children were now liable to taxation as well as themselves. During the next three years sixty thousand marks more were levied. How, then, was it possible for any traffic, however lucrative, to endure such perpetual exactions?

The reason must be found in the enormous interest of money, which seems to have been considered by no means immoderate at 50 per cent.; certain Oxford scholars thought themselves relieved by being constrained to pay only twopence weekly on a debt of twenty shillings. In fact, the rivalry of more successful usurers seems to have afflicted the Jews more deeply than the exorbitant demands of the King. These were the "Caorsini," Italian bankers, though named from the town of Cahors, employed by the Pope to collect his revenue. It was the practice of these persons, under the sanction of their principal, to lend money for three months without interest, but afterward to receive 5 per cent, monthly till the debt was discharged; the former device was to exempt them from the charge of usury. Henry III at one time attempted to expel this new swarm of locusts; but they asserted their authority from the Pope, and the monarch trembled.

Nor were their own body always faithful to the Jews. A certain Abraham, who lived at Berkhampstead and Wallingford, with a beautiful wife who bore the heathen name of Flora, was accused of treating an image of the Virgin with most indecent contumely; he was sentenced to perpetual imprisonment, but released, on the intervention of Richard, Earl of Cornwall, on payment of seven hundred marks. He was a man, it would seem, of infamous character, for his brethren accused him of coining, and offered one thousand marks rather than that he should be released from prison. Richard refused the tempting bribe, because Abraham was "his Jew." Abraham revenged himself by laying information of plots and conspiracies entered into by the whole people, and the more probable charge of concealment of their wealth from the rapacious hands of the King. This led to a strict and severe investigation of their property. At this investigation was present a wicked and merciless Jew, who rebuked the Christians for their tenderness to his brethren, and reproached the King's officers as gentle and effeminate. He gnashed his teeth, and, as each Jew appeared, declared that he could afford to pay twice as much as was exacted. Though he lied, he was useful in betraying their secret hoards to the King.

The distresses of the King increased, and, as his parliament resolutely refused to maintain his extravagant expenditure, nothing remained but to drain still further the veins of the Jews. The office was delegated to Richard, Earl of Cornwall, his brother, whom, from his wealth, the King might consider possessed of some secret for accumulating riches from hidden sources. The rabbi Elias was deputed to wait on the Prince, expressing the unanimous determination of all the Jews to quit the country rather than submit to further burdens: "Their trade was ruined by the Caorsini, the Pope's merchants--the Jew dared not call them usurers--who heaped up masses of gold by their money-lending; they could scarcely live on the miserable gains they now obtained; if their eyes were torn out and their bodies flayed, they could not give more." The old man fainted at the close of his speech, and was with difficulty revived.

Their departure from the country was a vain boast, for whither should they go? The edicts of the King of France had closed that country against them, and the inhospitable world scarcely afforded a place of refuge. Earl Richard treated them with leniency and accepted a small sum. But the next year the King renewed his demands; his declaration affected no disguise: "It is dreadful to imagine the debts to which I am bound. By the face of God, they amount to two hundred thousand marks; if I should say three hundred thousand, I should not go beyond the truth. Money I must have, from any place, from any person, or by any means." The King's acts display as little dignity as his proclamation. He actually sold or mortgaged to his brother Richard all the Jews in the realm for five thousand marks, giving him full power over their property and persons; our records still preserve the terms of this extraordinary bargain and sale.

Popular opinion, which in the worst times is some restraint upon the arbitrary oppressions of kings, in this case would rather applaud the utmost barbarity of the monarch than commiserate the wretchedness of the victims; for a new tale of the crucifixion of a Christian child, called Hugh of Lincoln, was now spreading horror throughout the country. The fact was confirmed by a solemn trial and the conviction and execution of the criminals. It was proved, according to the mode of proof in those days, that the child had been stolen, fattened on bread and milk for ten days, and crucified with all the cruelties and insults of Christ's Passion, in the presence of all the Jews in England, summoned to Lincoln for this especial purpose; a Jew of Lincoln sat in judgment as Pilate. But the earth could not endure to be an accomplice in the crime; it cast up the buried remains, and the affrighted criminals were obliged to throw the body into a well, where it was found by the mother. A great part of this story refutes itself, but among the ignorant and fanatic Jews there might be some who, exasperated by the constant repetition of this charge, might brood over it so long as at length to be tempted to its perpetration.

I must not suppress the fearful vengeance wreaked on the supposed perpetrators of this all-execrated crime. The Jew into whose house the child, it was said, had gone to play, tempted by the promise of life and security from mutilation, made full confession, and threw the guilt upon his brethren. The King, indignant at this unauthorized covenant of mercy, ordered him to execution. The Jew, in his despair or frenzy, entered into a still more minute and terrible denunciation of all the Jews of the realm, as consenting to the act. He was dragged, tied to a horse's tail, to the gallows; his body and his soul delivered to the demons of the air. Ninety-one Jews of Lincoln were sent, to London as accomplices, and thrown into dungeons. If some Christians felt pity for their sufferings, their rivals, the Caorsini, beheld them with dry eyes.

The King's inquest declared all the Jews of the realm guilty of the crime. The mother made her appeal to the King. Eighteen of the richest and most eminent of the Lincoln Jews were hung on a new gallows; twenty more were imprisoned in the Tower awaiting the same fate. But if the Jews of Lincoln were thus terribly chastised, the church of Lincoln was enriched and made famous for centuries. The victim was canonized; pilgrims crowded from all parts of the kingdom, even from foreign lands, to pay their devotions at the shrine, to witness and to receive benefit from the miracles which were wrought by the martyr of eight years old. How deeply this legend sank into the popular mind may be conceived from Chaucer's _Prioress' Tale_.

The rest of the reign of Henry III passed away with the same unmitigated oppressions of the Jews; which the Jews, no doubt, in some degree revenged by their extortions from the people. The contest between the royal and ecclesiastical jurisdiction over the Jews was arranged by certain constitutions, set forth by the King in council. By these laws no Jew could reside in the kingdom but as king's serf. Service was to be performed in the synagogue in a low tone, so as not to offend the ears of Christians. The Jews were forbidden to have Christian nurses for their children. The other clauses were similar to those enacted in other countries: that the Jew should pay all dues to the parson; no Jew should eat or buy meat during Lent; all disputes on religion were forbidden; sexual intercourse between Jews and Christians interdicted; no Jew might settle in any town where Jews were not accustomed to reside, without special license from the King.

The barons' wars drew on, fatal to the Israelites as compelling the King, by the hopeless state of his finances, to new extortions, and tempting the barons to plunder and even murder them as wickedly and unconstitutionally attached to the King. How they passed back from Richard of Cornwall into the King's jurisdiction as property appears not. It is not likely that the King redeemed the mortgage; but in 1261 they were again alienated to Prince Edward. The King's object was apparently by this and other gifts to withdraw the Prince from his alliance with the barons. The justiciaries of the Jews are now in abeyance. The chancellor of the exchequer was to seal ail writs of Judaism, and account to the attorneys of the Prince for the amount. But this was not the worst of their sufferings or the bitterest disgrace; the Prince, in his turn, mortgaged them to certain of their dire enemies, the Caorsini, and the King ratified the assignment by his royal authority.

But for this compulsory aid, wrung from them by violence, the Jews were treated by the barons as allies and accomplices of the King. When London, at least her turbulent mayor and the populace, declared for the barons; when the Grand Justiciary, Hugh le Despenser, led the city bands to destroy the palaces of the King of the Romans at Westminster and Isleworth, threw the justices of the king's bench and the barons of the exchequer into prison, and seized the property of the foreign merchants, five hundred of the Jews,[83] men, women, and children, were apprehended and set apart, but not for security. Despenser chose some of the richest in order to extort a ransom for his own people, the rest were plundered, stripped, murdered by the merciless rabble. Old men, and babes plucked from their mothers' breasts, were pitilessly slaughtered. It was on Good Friday that one of the fiercest of the barons, Fitz John, put to death Cok ben Abraham, reputed to have been the wealthiest man in the kingdom, seized his property, but, fearful of the jealousy of the other barons surrendered one-half of the plunder to Leicester in order to secure his own portion.

The Jews of other cities fared no better, were pillaged, and then abandoned to the mob by the Earl of Gloucester; many at Worcester were plundered and forced to submit to baptism by the Earl of Derby. At an earlier period the Earl of Leicester (Simon de Montfort) had expelled them from the town of Leicester; they sought refuge in the domains of the Countess of Winchester. Robert Grostête, the wisest and best churchman of the day, then Archdeacon of Leicester, hardly permitted the Countess to harbor this accursed race; their lives might be spared, but all further indulgence, especially acceptance of their ill-gotten wealth, would make her an accomplice in the wickedness of their usuries.[84]

After the battle of Lewes, 1264, the King, with the advice of his barons--he was now a prisoner in their camp--issued a proclamation to the Lord Mayor and sheriffs of London, in favor of the Jews. Some had found refuge, during the tumult and massacre, in the Tower of London; they were permitted to return with their families to their homes. All ill-usage or further molestation was prohibited under pain of death. Orders of the same kind were issued to Lincoln; twenty-five citizens were named by the King and the barons their special protectors; so also to Northampton. The King--Prince Edward was now at war with the barons, who had the King in their power--revoked the grant of the Jews to his son; with that the grant to the Caorsini, which had not expired, was cancelled. The justiciaries appointed by the Prince to levy the tallage upon them were declared to have lost their authority; the Jews passed back to the property of the King. The King showed his power by annulling many debts and the interest due upon them to some of his faithful followers, avowedly in order to secure their attachment.

It was now clearly for the King's interest that such profitable subjects should find, we may not say justice, but something like restitution, which might enable them again to become profitable. The King in the parliament, which commenced its sittings immediately after the battle of Lewes, and continued till after the battle of Evesham, August 4, 1265, restored the Jews to the same state in which they were before the battle of Lewes. As to the Jews in London, the constable of the Tower was to see not only that those who had taken refuge in the Tower, but those who had fled to other places, were to return to their houses, which were to be restored, except such as had been granted away by the King; and even all their property which could be recovered from the King's enemies. Excepting that some of the barons' troops, flying from the battle of Evesham, under the younger Simon de Montfort, broke open and plundered the synagogue at Lincoln, where they found much wealth, and some excesses committed at Cambridge, the Jews had time to breathe. The King, enriched by the forfeited estates of the barons, spared the Jews. We only find a tallage of one thousand pounds, with promise of exemption for three years, unless the King or his son should undertake a crusade.

Their wrongs had, no doubt, sunk deep into the hearts of the Jews. It has been observed that oppression, which drives even wise men mad, may instigate fanatics to the wildest acts of frenzy; an incident at Oxford will illustrate this. Throughout these times the Jews still flourished, if they may be said to have flourished, at Oxford. In 1244 certain clerks of the university broke into the houses of the Jews and carried away enormous wealth. The magistrates seized and imprisoned some of the offenders. Grostete, as bishop of the diocese--Oxford was then in the diocese of Lincoln--commanded their release, because there was no proof of felony against them. We hear nothing of restitution. The scholars might indeed hate the Jews whose interest on loans was _limited_ by Bishop Grostete to twopence weekly in the pound--between 40 and 50 per cent. Probably the poor scholars' security was not overgood. Later, the studies in the university are said to have been interrupted, the scholars being unable to redeem their books pledged to the Jews.

Twenty-four years after the outbreak of the scholars, years of bitterness and spoliation and suffering, while the chancellor and the whole body of the university were in solemn procession to the reliques of St. Frideswide, they were horror-struck by beholding a Jew rush forth, seize the cross which was borne before them, dash it to the ground, and trample upon it with the most furious contempt. The offender seems to have made his escape in the tumult, but his people suffered for his crime. Prince Edward was then at Oxford; and, by the royal decree, the Jews were imprisoned, and forced, notwithstanding much artful delay on their part, to erect a beautiful cross of white marble, with an image of the Virgin and Child, gilt all over, in the area of Merton College, and to present to the proctors another cross of silver to be borne at all future processions of the university. The Jews endeavored to elude this penalty by making over their effects to other persons. The King empowered the sheriff to levy the fine on all their property.

The last solemn act of Henry of Winchester was a statute of great importance. Complaints had arisen that the Jews, by purchase, or probably foreclosure of mortgage, might become possessed of all the rights of lords of manors, escheat wardships, even of presentation to churches. They might hold entire baronies with all their appurtenances. The whole was swept away by one remorseless clause. The act disqualified the Jews altogether from holding lands or even tenements, except the houses of which they were actually possessed, particularly in the city of London, where they might only pull down and rebuild on the old foundations. All lands or manors were actually taken away; those which they held by mortgage were to be restored to the Christian owners, without any interest on such bonds. Henry almost died in the act of extortion; he had ordered the arrears of all charges to be peremptorily paid, under pain of imprisonment. Such was the distress caused by this inexorable mandate that even the rival bankers, the Caorsini, and the friars themselves, were moved to commiseration, though some complained that the wild outcries raised in the synagogue on this doleful occasion disturbed the devotion of the Christians in the neighboring churches.

The death of Henry released the Jews from this Egyptian bondage; but they changed their master, not their fortune. The first act of Edward's reign, after his return from the Holy Land, regulated the affairs of the Jews exactly in the same spirit; a new tallage was demanded, which was to extend to the women and children; the penalty of nonpayment, even of arrears, was exile, not imprisonment. The defaulter was to proceed immediately to Dover, with his wife and children, leaving his house and property to the use of the King. The execution of this edict was committed, not to the ordinary civil authorities, but to an Irish bishop (elect) and to two friars.