When the Civil War was over, the position of the King’s son Edward
as, on the one hand, the sworn friend of the lower baronage, and, on
the other hand, the leader of the Council and the most powerful man
in England,[54] made it impossible that the Jews should continue to
carry on their business under the royal protection as they had hitherto
done. And Edward’s personal character and political ideals were such
as to make him execute with vigour the policy towards the Jews that
was forced on him by his relations with the lower baronage. He was a
religious prince, one who could not but feel qualms of conscience at
seeing the “enemies of Christ” carrying on the most unchristian trade
of usury in the chief towns of England. He was a statesman, the future
author of the Statutes of Mortmain and _Quia Emptores_, and he wished
to see the work of the nation performed by the united action of the
nation, and its expenses met by due contributions from all the National
resources. But in so far as the Jews had any hold on English land they
prevented the realisation of this ideal. Sometimes they took possession
of land that was pledged to them, and then the amount of the feudal
revenue and the symmetry of the feudal organisation suffered, though
the King might gain a great deal in other ways;[55] very often they
secured payment in money of their debts by bringing about an agreement
for the transfer to a monastery of the estates that had been pledged
to them as security,[56] and then the land came under the “dead hand”;
sometimes they contented themselves with a perpetual rent-charge,[57]
and then it would be hard, if not impossible, for the struggling debtor
to discharge his feudal obligations.[58]
The indebtedness of the Church must have shocked Edward’s sympathies
as a Christian, just as much as the indebtedness of the lay
landholders thwarted his schemes as a statesman. For the condition
of ecclesiastical estates was indeed deplorable. They had begun to
fall into debt in the twelfth century, no doubt in consequence of
the expense that was necessary for the erection of great buildings,
and their debts had gone on growing, partly in consequence of bad
management, partly through the necessity of fulfilling the duties of
hospitality by keeping open house continually, partly through the
exactions of the Pope and the King. The Bishop of Lincoln pledged the
plate of his cathedral, the Abbot of Peterborough the bones of the
patron-saint of his Abbey; at Bury St. Edmunds each obedientiary had
his own seal, which he could apply to bonds which involved the whole
house; and loans were freely contracted which accumulated at 50 per
cent.[59] Hence in the thirteenth century Matthew Paris wrote that
“there was scarcely anyone in England, especially a bishop, who was
not caught in the meshes of the usurers.”[60] “Wise men knew that
the land was corrupted by them.”[61] The literary documents of the
latter half of the century fully confirm these accounts. The See of
Canterbury was weighed down with an ever-growing load of debt when
John of Peckham first went to it.[62] The buildings of the cathedral
were becoming dilapidated for want of money to repair them.[63]
Those of the neighbouring Priory of Christ Church were in an equally
bad state, and its revenue was equally encumbered.[64] The bishop
of Norwich was so poor that in spite of the extortions regularly
practised by his officials, he had to borrow six hundred marks from
the Archbishop of Canterbury.[65] The Bishop of Hereford had been
compelled to seek the intervention of Henry III., in order to obtain
respite of his debts to the Jews.[66] The Abbey of Glastonbury was
weighed down by “immeasurable debts,” and, in order to save it from
further calamities, the Archbishop had to order a reorganisation of
expenditure so thorough as to include regulations concerning the number
of dishes with which the abbot might be served in his private room.[67]
The Prior of Lewes asked permission to turn one of his churches from
its right use, and to let it for five years to any one who would hire
it, in order that he might thus get together some money to help to pay
off what the priory owed.[68] The Church of Newnton could not afford
clergymen.[69] Even the great Monastery of St. Swithin’s, Winchester,
in spite of the revenue that its monks drew from the sale of wine and
fur and spiceries, and from the tolls paid by the traders who attended
its great annual fair, was always in debt, sometimes to the amount of
several thousand pounds.[70] Except in the cutting down of timber and
the granting of life annuities in return for the payment of a lump sum,
the religious houses had no resources except the money-lenders.[71]
They borrowed from English usurers, from Italians, from Jews, and from
one another.[72]
If the lay and ecclesiastical estates of England were to be freed from
their burdens, heroic measures were necessary. The barons had done
their part in the work by carrying off or destroying such bonds as they
could find. But the financial revolution, to be effective, must be
carried out by due process of law.
When, on the restoration of tranquillity, the Council under Edward’s
influence began its attempt to redress the grievances against which the
barons had been fighting, the first measure in the programme of reform
was one for the relief of the debtors of the Jews. Any interference
with Jewish business would, of course, entail a loss to the Royal
Exchequer, and, honest and patriotic as Edward was, his poverty was so
great that he could not afford to sacrifice any of his resources. But
the exhausting demands that the King had made on the Jews in the time
of his difficulties, and the terrible destruction of their property
that had taken place during the war, must have so far diminished the
revenue to be derived from the Jews as to make the possible loss of it
a far less serious consideration than it would have been twenty years
earlier. Accordingly, at the feast of St. Hilary in 1269, a measure,
drawn up by Walter of Merton, was passed, forbidding for the future the
alienation of land to Jews in consequence of loan transactions. All
existing bonds by which land might pass into the hands of Jews were
declared cancelled; the attempt to evade the law by selling them to
Christians was made punishable with death and forfeiture; and none to
such effect was to be executed in future.[73]
But this was only a slight measure compared with what was to follow.
The Jews might still acquire land by purchase, and needy lords and
churches, when forbidden to pledge their lands, were very likely,
under the pressure of necessity, to sell them outright. Already the
Jews were “seised” of many estates,[74] and, according to the story of
an ancient historian,[75] they chose this moment to ask the King to
grant them the enjoyment of the privileges that regularly accompanied
the possession of land, viz., the guardianship of minors on their
estates, the right to give wards in marriage, and the presentation
to livings. Feudal law recognised the two former privileges, and the
Church recognised the latter,[76] as incidental to the possession of
real property. It was strange, however, that the Jews should present
a demand for new social privileges of this kind to a council that had
already shown its determination to deprive them of their old legal
rights; and it was only natural that the churchmen should take the
opportunity of denouncing their “impious insolence.” Certain of the
councillors were at first in favour of granting the Jews’ request; but
a Franciscan friar, who obtained admittance to the Council, pleaded
that it would be a disgrace to Christianity, and a dishonour to God.
The Archbishop of York, and the Bishops of Lichfield, Coventry, and
Worcester were present, and argued that the “perfidious Jews” ought to
be made to recognise that it was as an act of the King’s grace that
they were allowed to remain in England, and that it was outrageous
that they should make a demand, the granting of which would allow
them to nominate the ministers of Christian churches, to receive the
homage of Christians, to sit side by side with them on juries, assizes
and recognitions, and perhaps ultimately to come into possession of
English baronies. Edward and his equally religious cousin, the son of
Richard, King of the Romans, were present at the council to support the
argument of the Bishops,[77] and not only were the original requests
refused, but the Jews were now forbidden by the act of the King and his
Council to enjoy a freehold in “manors, lands, tenements, fiefs, rents,
or tenures of any kind,” whether held by bond, gift, enfeoffment,
confirmation, or any other grant, or by any other means whatever. They
were forbidden to receive any longer the rent-charges which had been
a common form of security for their loans. Lands of which they were
already possessed were to be redeemed by the Christian owners, or in
default of them, by other Christians, on repayment without interest of
the principal of the loan in consequence of which they had come into
the hands of the Jews. In the interest of parochial revenues, Jews were
forbidden to acquire houses in London in addition to those which they
already possessed.[78]