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The Edict of Expulsion was a royal decree expelling all Jews from the Kingdom of England that was issued by Edward I on 18 July 1290; it was the first time a European state is known to have permanently banned their presence.[a] The date of issuance was most likely chosen because it was a Jewish holy day, the ninth of Ab, which commemorates the destruction of Jerusalem and other disasters the Jewish people have experienced. Edward told the sheriffs of all counties he wanted all Jews expelled before All Saints' Day (1 November) that year.
Jews were allowed to leave England with cash and personal possessions but outstanding debts, homes, and other buildings—including synagogues and cemeteries—were forfeit to the king. While there are no recorded attacks on Jews during the departure on land, there were acts of piracy in which Jews died, and others were drowned as a result of being forced to cross the English Channel at a time of year when dangerous storms are common. There is evidence from personal names of Jewish refugees settling in Paris and other parts of France, as well as Italy, Spain and Germany. Documents taken abroad by the Anglo-Jewish diaspora have been found as far away as Cairo. Jewish properties were sold to the benefit of the Crown, Queen Eleanor, and selected individuals, who were given grants of property.
The edict was not an isolated incident but the culmination of increasing antisemitism in England. During the reigns of Henry III and Edward I, anti-Jewish prejudice was used as a political tool by opponents of the Crown, and later by Edward and the state itself. Edward took measures to claim credit for the expulsion and to define himself as the protector of Christians against Jews, and following his death, he was remembered and praised for the expulsion. The expulsion had the lasting effect of embedding antisemitism into English culture, especially in the medieval and early modern period; such antisemitic beliefs included that England was unique because there were no Jews, and that the English had superseded the Jews as God's chosen people. The expulsion edict remained in force for the rest of the Middle Ages but was overturned more than 365 years later during the Protectorate, when in 1656, Oliver Cromwell informally permitted the resettlement of the Jews in England.
The first Jewish communities in the Kingdom of England were recorded some time after the Norman Conquest in 1066, moving from William the Conqueror's towns in northern France.[2] Jews were viewed as being under the direct jurisdiction and property of the king,[3] making them subject to his whims. The monarch could tax or imprison Jews as he wished, without reference to anyone else.[4][b] A very small number of Jews were wealthy because Jews were allowed to lend money at interest while the Church forbade Christians from doing so, which was regarded as the sin of usury.[6] Capital was in short supply and necessary for development, including investment in monastic construction and allowing aristocrats to pay heavy taxes to the crown, so Jewish loans played an important economic role,[7] although they were also used to finance consumption, particularly among overstretched, landholding Knights.[8]
The Church's highest authority the Holy See had placed restrictions on the mixing of Jews with Christians, and at the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215 had mandated the wearing of distinctive clothing such as tabula or Jewish badges.[9] These measures were adopted in England at the Synod of Oxford in 1222. Church leaders made the first allegations of ritual child sacrifice, such as crucifixions at Easter in mockery of Christ, and the accusations began to develop into themes of conspiracy and occult practices. King Henry III backed allegations made against Jews of Lincoln after the death of a boy named Hugh, who soon became known as Little Saint Hugh.[10] Such stories coincided with the rise of hostility within the Church to the Jews.[11]
Discontent increased after the Crown destabilised the loans and debt market. Loans were typically secured through bonds that entitled the lender to the debtor's land holdings. Interest rates were relatively high and debtors tended to be in arrears. Repayments and actual interest paid were a matter for negotiation and it was unusual for a Jewish lender to foreclose debts.[12] As the Crown overtaxed Jews, they were forced to sell their debt bonds at reduced prices to quickly raise cash. Rich courtiers would buy the cut-price bonds, and could call in the loans and demand the lands that had secured the loans.[8] This caused the transfer of the land wealth of indebted knights and others, especially from the 1240s, as the taxation of Jews became unsustainably high.[13] Leaders like Simon de Montfort then used anger at the dispossession of middle-ranking landowners to fuel antisemitic violence at London, where 500 Jews died; Worcester; Canterbury; and many other towns.[14] In the 1270s and 1280s, Queen Eleanor amassed vast lands and properties through this process, causing widespread resentment and conflict with the Church, which viewed her acquisitions as profiting from usury.[15] By 1275, as the result of punitive taxation, the crown had eroded the Jewish community's wealth to the extent taxes produced little return.[16][c]
The first major step towards expulsion took place in 1275 with the Statute of the Jewry, which outlawed all lending at interest and allowed Jews to lease land, which had previously been forbidden. This right was granted for the following 15 years, supposedly giving Jews a period to readjust;[18] this was an unrealistic expectation because entry to other trades was generally restricted.[19] Edward I attempted to convert Jews by compelling them to listen to Christian preachers.[20]
The Church took further action, for example John Peckham the Archbishop of Canterbury campaigned to suppress seven London synagogues in 1282.[21] In late 1286, Pope Honorius IV addressed a special letter or "rescript" to the Archbishops of York and Canterbury claiming Jews had an evil effect on religious life in England through free interaction with Christians, and calling for action to be taken to prevent it. Honorius's demands were restated at the Synod of Exeter.[22]
Jews were targeted in the coin clipping crisis of the late 1270s, when over 300 Jews—over 10% of England's Jewish population—were sentenced to death for interfering with the currency.[23] The Crown profited from seized assets and payments of fines by those who were not executed, raising at least £16,500.[24][d] While it is unclear how impoverished the Jewish community was in these last years, historian Henry Richardson notes Edward did not impose any further taxation from 1278 until the late 1280s.[26] It appears some Jewish moneylenders continued to lend money against future delivery of goods to avoid usury restrictions, a practice that was wholly known to the Crown because debts had to be recorded in a government archa or chest where debts were recorded.[e] Others found ways to continue trading and it is likely others left the country.[28]
Local or temporary expulsions of Jews had taken place in other parts of Europe,[f] and regularly in England. For example, Simon de Montfort expelled the Jews of Leicester in 1231,[30] and in 1275, Edward I had permitted the Queen mother Eleanor to expel Jews from her lands and towns.[31][g]
In 1287, Edward I was in his French provinces in the Duchy of Gascony while trying to negotiate the release of his cousin Charles of Salerno, who was being held captive in Aragon.[33] On Easter Sunday, Edward broke his collarbone in an 80-foot (24 m) fall, and was confined to bed for several months.[34] Soon after his recovery, Edward ordered the expulsion of local Jews from Gascony.[35] His immediate motivation may have been the need to generate funds for Charles' release,[36] but many historians, including Richard Huscroft, have said the money raised by seizures from exiled Jews was negligible and that it was given away to mendicant orders (i.e. monks), and therefore see the expulsion as a "thank-offering" for Edward's recovery from his injury.[37]
After his release, in 1289, Charles of Salerno expelled Jews from his territories in Maine and Anjou, accusing them of "dwelling randomly" with the Christian population and cohabiting with Christian women. He linked the expulsion to general taxation of the population as "recompense" for lost income. Edward and Charles may have learnt from each other's experience.[38]
By the time he returned to England from Gascony in 1289, Edward I was deeply in debt.[39] At the same time, his experiment to convert the Jews to Christianity and remove their dependence on lending at interest had failed; the fifteen-year period in which Jews were allowed to lease farms had ended. Also, raising significant sums of money from the Jewish population had become increasingly difficult because they had been repeatedly overtaxed.[40]
In 14 June 1290, Edward summoned representatives of the knights of the shires, the middling landowners, to attend Parliament by 15 July. These knights were the group that was most hostile to Jews and usury. On 18 June, Edward sent secret orders to the sheriffs of cities with Jewish residents to seal the archae containing records of Jewish debts. The reason for this is disputed; it could represent preparation for a further tallage to be paid by the Jewish population or it could represent a preparatory step for expulsion.[41] Parliament met on 15 July; there is no record of the Parliamentary debates so it is uncertain whether the Crown offered the Expulsion of the Jews in return for a vote of taxation or whether Parliament asked for it as a concession. Both views are argued. The link between these seems certain given the evidence of contemporaneous chronicles and the speed at which orders to expel the Jews of England were made, possibly after an agreement was reached.[42] The taxation granted by Parliament to Edward was very high; at £116,000 it was probably the highest of the Middle Ages.[43] In gratitude, the Church later voluntarily agreed to pay tax of a tenth of its revenue.[44]
On 18 July, the Edict of Expulsion was issued.[45] The text of the edict is lost.[46] On the Hebrew calendar, 18 July of that year was 9 Av (Tisha B'Av) 5050, commemorating the fall of the Temple at Jerusalem; it is unlikely to be a coincidence.[47] According to Roth, it was noted "with awe" by Jewish chroniclers.[48] On the same day, writs were sent to sheriffs saying all Jews were to leave by All Saints' Day, 1 November 1290, and outlining their duties in the matter.[49]
The edict was implemented with some attempt at fairness. Proclamations ordering the population not to "injure, harm, damage or grieve" the departing Jews were made. Wardens at the Cinque Ports were told to make arrangements for the Jews' safe passage and cheap fares for the poor, while safe conduct was arranged for dignitaries,[40] such as the wealthy financier Bonamy of York.[50] There were limits on the property Jews could take with them. Although a few favoured persons were allowed to sell their homes before they left,[51] the vast majority had to forfeit any outstanding debts, homes and immobile property, including synagogues and cemeteries.[40]
On 5 November, Edward wrote to the Barons of the Exchequer, giving the clearest-known official explanation of his actions. In it, Edward said the Jews had broken trust with him by continuing to find ways to charge interest on loans. He labelled them criminals and traitors, and said they had been expelled "in honour of the Crucified [Jesus]". Interest to be paid on debts seized by the Crown was to be cancelled.[52]
The Jewish population in England at the time of the expulsion was relatively small, perhaps as few as 2,000 people, although estimates vary.[53] Decades of privations had caused many Jews to emigrate or convert.[54] Although it is believed most of the Jews were able to leave England in safety, there are some records of piracy leading to the death of some expelled Jews. On 10 October, a ship of poor London Jews had chartered, which a chronicler described as "bearing their scrolls of the law",[h] sailed toward the mouth of the Thames near Queenborough en route to France. While the tide was low, the captain persuaded the Jews to walk with him on a sandbank; as the tide rose, he returned to the ship, telling the Jews to call upon Moses for help. It appears those involved in this incident were punished.[56] Another incident occurred in Portsmouth, where sailors received a pardon in 1294,[57] and a ship is recorded as drifting ashore near Burnham-on-Crouch, Essex, the Jewish passengers having been robbed and murdered.[58] The condition of the sea in autumn was also dangerous; around 1,300 poor Jewish passengers crossed the English Channel to Wissant near Calais for 4d each.[i] Tolls were collected by the constable of the Tower of London from those leaving on their departure, of 4d or 2d for "poor Jews".[60] Some ships were lost at sea and others arrived with their passengers destitute.[61]
It is unclear where most of the migrants went. Those arriving in France were initially allowed to stay in Amiens and Carcassonne but permission was soon revoked. Because most of the Anglo-Jewry still spoke French, historian Cecil Roth speculates most would have found refuge in France. Evidence from personal names in records show some Jews with the appellation "L'Englesche" or "L'Englois" (ie, the English) in Paris, Savoy and elsewhere. Similar names can be found among the Spanish Jewry, and the Venetian Clerli family claimed descent from Anglo-Jewish refugees. The locations where Anglo-Jewish texts have been found is also evidence for the possible destination of migrants, including places in Germany, Italy, and Spain. The title deeds to an English monastery have been found in the wood store of a synagogue in Cairo, where according to Roth, a refugee from England deposited the document.[62] In the rare case of Bonamy of York, there is a record of him accidentally meeting creditors in Paris in 1292.[50] Other individual cases can be speculated about, such as that of Licoricia of Winchester's sons Asher and Lumbard, and her grandchildren, who were likely among the exiles.[63]
Following the expulsion, the Crown seized Jewish property. Debts with a value of £20,000 were collated from the archae from each town with a Jewish settlement. In December, Hugh of Kendall was appointed to dispose of the property seized from the Jewish refugees, the most-valuable of which consisted of houses in London. Some of the property was given away to courtiers, the Church and the royal family's circle in a total of 85 grants. William Burnell received property in Oxford which he later gave to Balliol College; for example, Queen Eleanor's tailor was granted the synagogue in Canterbury. Sales were mostly completed by early 1291 and around £2,000 was raised, £100 of which was used to glaze windows and decorate the tomb of Henry III in Westminster Abbey.[64] It appears there was no systematic attempt to collect the £20,000 worth of seized debts. The reasons for this could include the death of Queen Eleanor in November 1290, concerns over a possible war with Scotland, or an attempt to win political favour by providing benefit to those previously indebted.[65]
It is likely the few Jews remaining in England after the expulsion were converts. At the time of the expulsion, there were around 100 converted Jews in the Domus Conversorum, which provided accommodation to Jews who had converted to Christianity.[66] The last of the pre-1290 converts Claricia, the daughter of Jacob Copin, died in 1356, having spent the early part of the 1300s in Exeter, where she raised a family.[67] Between the Expulsion of the Jews in 1290 and their informal return in 1655, there continue to be records of Jews in the Domus Conversorum up to and after 1551. The expulsion is unlikely to have been wholly enforceable.[68] Four complaints were made to the king in 1376 that some of those trading as Lombards were actually Jews.[66]
After the expulsion, Edward I sought to position himself as the defender of Christians against the supposed criminality of Jews. Most prominently, he continued personal veneration of Little Saint Hugh of Lincoln, a child who whose death had been falsely attributed to ritual murder by Jews.[69] After the death of his wife Queen Eleanor in late 1290, Edward reconstructed the shrine, incorporating the Royal Coat of Arms, in the same style as the Eleanor crosses.[70] It appears to have been an attempt by Edward to associate himself and Eleanor with the cult. According to historian Joe Hillaby, this "propaganda coup" boosted the circulation of the Saint Hugh myth, the most famous of the English blood libels, which is repeated in literature and the "Sir Hugh" folk songs into the twentieth century.[71] Other efforts to justify the expulsion can be found in the Church, for instance in the canonisation evidence submitted for Thomas de Cantilupe,[72] and on the Hereford Mappa Mundi.[73]
The permanent expulsion of Jews from England and tactics employed before it, such as attempts at forced conversion, are widely seen as setting a significant precedent and an example for the 1492 Alhambra Decree.[74] Traditional narratives of Edward I have sought to downplay the event, emphasising the peacefulness of the expulsion or placing its roots in Edward's pragmatic need to extract money from Parliament;[75] more recent work on the Anglo-Jewish community's experience have framed it as the culmination of a policy of state-sponsored antisemitism.[76] These studies place the expulsion in the context of the execution of Jews for coin clipping and the first royal-sponsored attempts at converting Jews to Christianity, saying this was the first time a state had permanently expelled all Jews from its territory.[77]
For Edward I's contemporaries, there is evidence the expulsion was seen as one of his most-prominent achievements. It was named alongside his wars of conquest in Scotland and Wales in the Commendatio that was widely circulated after his death, saying Edward I outshone the Pharoahs by exiling the Jews.[78]
The expulsion had a lasting effect on medieval and early-modern English culture. Antisemitic narratives became embedded in the idea of England as unique because it had no Jews, and of the English as God's chosen people, superseding the Jews. Jews became an easy target of literature and plays, and tropes such as child sacrifice and host desecration persisted.[79] Jews began to settle in England after 1656,[80] and formal equality was achieved by 1858.[81] According to medieval historian Colin Richmond, English antisemitism left a legacy of neglect of this topic in English historical research as late as the 1990s.[82] The story of Little Saint Hugh was repeated as fact in local guidebooks in Lincoln in the 1920s, and a private school was named after Hugh around the same time. The logo of the school, which referenced the story, was altered in 2020.[83]
In May 2022, the Church of England held a service that the Archbishop of Canterbury Justin Welby described as a formal "act of repentance" on the 800th anniversary of the Synod of Oxford in 1222. The Synod passed a set of laws that restricted the right of Jews in England to engage with Christians, which directly contributed to the expulsion of 1290.[84]