Of the course of events for the first few months after Edward’s return
to England, very meagre accounts have come down to us. His searching
inquiry into the conduct of the judges during his absence[223] must
have taken up most of his time and energy. As soon as he had meted out
punishment to those whom he had found guilty of corruption, he turned
to the Jewish question. On the 18th of July, 1290, writs were issued to
the sheriffs of counties, informing them that a decree had been passed
that all Jews should leave England before the feast of All Saints of
that year.[224] Any who remained in the country after the prescribed
day were declared liable to the penalty of death.[225]
Every effort was made by the King to secure the peace and safety
of the Jews during the short period for which they were allowed to
remain, and in the course of their journey from their homes to the
coast, and from the coast to their ultimate destination. The sheriffs
were ordered to have public proclamation made that “no one within the
appointed period should injure, harm, damage, or grieve them,” and
were to ensure, for such as chose to pay for it, a safe journey to
London. The wardens of the Cinque Ports, within the district of whose
jurisdiction many of the Jews would necessarily embark, received orders
in the same spirit as those that had been addressed to the sheriffs of
the counties. They were to see that the exiles were provided, after
payment, with a safe and speedy passage across the sea, and that the
poor among them were enabled to travel at cheap rates and were treated
with consideration.[226] These general orders were reinforced by the
issue of special writs of safe-conduct for individual Jews.[227] The
exiles were allowed to carry with them all of their own property that
was in their possession at the time of the issue of the decree of
expulsion, together with such pledges deposited with them by Christians
as were not redeemed before a fixed date. A few Jews who were high in
the favour of royal personages, such as Aaron, son of Vives, who was a
“chattel” of the King’s brother Edmund,[228] and Cok, son of Hagin, who
belonged to the Queen,[229] were allowed before their departure to sell
their houses and fees to any Christian who would buy them.
On St. Denis’s Day all the Jews of London started on their journey
to the sea-coast.[230] The treatment that they met with was not so
merciful as the king had wished. Many of the richer among them
embarked with all their property at London. At the mouth of the Thames,
the master cast anchor during the ebb-tide, so that his vessel grounded
on the sands, and invited his passengers to walk on the shore till
it was again afloat. He led them to a great distance, so that they
did not get back to the river-side till the tide was again full. Then
he ran into the water, climbed into the ship by means of a rope, and
bade them, if they needed help, call on their Prophet Moses. They
followed him into the water, and most of them were drowned. The sailors
appropriated all that the Jews had left on board. But subsequently the
master and his accomplices were indicted, convicted of murder, and
hanged.[231]
One body of the exiles set sail for France. During their voyage fierce
storms swept the sea. Many were drowned. Many were cast destitute on
the coast that they were seeking, and were allowed by the King to
live for a time in Amiens.[232] This act of mercy, however, called
forth the censure of the Pope, and the _Parlement de la Chandeleur_,
which met in the same year, decreed that all the Jews from England and
Gascony who had taken refuge in the French king’s dominions should
leave the country by the middle of the next Lent.[233] Another body,
numbering 1,335, and consisting, to a great extent, of the poor,
went to Flanders.[234] The only known fact that we have to guide our
conjectures as to the ultimate place of settlement of any of those who
left England is that, in a list of the inhabitants of the Paris Jewry,
made four years after the Expulsion, there appear certain names with
the additions of _l’Englische_ or _l’Englais_.[235] It may well be that
many Jews from England, speaking the French language, were able, in
spite of the Act of the _Parlement de la Chandeleur_, to become merged
in the general body of the Jews of France, who were many times as
numerous as those of England had been.[236] Many, too, may have thrown
in their lot with their 850,000 coreligionists of Spain.[237]
The property that the Jews left behind them in England consisted of
such dwelling-houses, and other houses, as remained to them in spite of
the strict conditions imposed by the Statute of 1275, of the synagogues
and cemeteries of their local congregations, and of bonds partly for
the repayment of money, and partly for the delivery of wool and corn
for which the price had been paid in advance. All fell into the hands
of the King,[238] except, possibly, the houses in some of those towns,
such as Hereford, Winchester, and Ipswich, of which the citizens had
by the purchase of manorial rights become entitled to all fines and
forfeitures.[239] The annual value of the houses, as shown in the
returns made by the sheriffs, was, after allowance had been made for
the right of the Capital Lords, about £130. The value of the debts, as
shown in the register made by the officers of the Exchequer, was about
£9,100, but the amount for realisation was diminished by the King’s
resolve to take from the debtors, not the full amount for which they
were liable, and which, under the amended statute of the Jewry,[240]
could include three years’ interest, but only the bare principal that
had been originally advanced. Even this was not fully collected;
payment was, by the King’s permission, delayed, and confirmations,
made in 1315 and 1327, of the renunciation of interest, show how long
some of the debts remained outstanding. Edward III. finally gave up the
claim to all further payment.[241]
It was ordered that the houses should be sold and the proceeds devoted
to pious uses.[242] But it appears that they were nearly all given away
to the King’s friends.[243]