On the seventh day of March 1190, a public fair being held at Stamford, had drawn together to that place great multitudes of people, and amongst them whole troops of those roaming saints, as they were called. These zealous men, indignant that the enemies of Christ should abound in wealth, while they, who were His great friends, were obliged to strip their wives and children of common necessaries, in order to be equipped with travelling expenses, argued that God would be highly honoured if they should first destroy all the Jews, and then possess themselves of their property. “So ready are men to believe what makes for their worldly advantage”—observes Tovey—“accordingly they flew upon them with great vigour and resolution, and finding very little resistance from an oppressed and spiritless enemy, quickly made themselves masters both of their persons and fortunes; the former of which they treated with all kinds of barbarity. Some few of them, indeed, were so fortunate as to get shelter in the castle, whither, as they fled without their riches, the source of all their misery, they were not earnestly pursued. And as these devout pilgrims pretended to do all this for the advancement of God’s glory, to show they were in earnest, they took shipping as fast as they could, and fled away for Jerusalem; not so much as one of them being detained by the magistrates, or any further inquiry made by the king into such a sanctified piece of villany.”[1]
[1] – Anglia Judaica, pp. 19, 20. See [Appendix C].
The same outrages were committed in several other parts of the kingdom. The same spirit prevailed also at Lincoln. An attack was on the point of being made on the helpless Jews there; but as by that time the melancholy intelligence was noised abroad, and the Jews were every where made acquainted that the faithful (?) aimed at their destruction, they retired, therefore, as soon as possible into the king’s fortress, which liberty they purchased, with a large sum, of the governor; so that the majority of them escaped with little damage. At York, the popular feeling communicated itself to all classes of the inhabitants, and many of the nobles and principal gentry of the neighbourhood associated themselves with the soldiers of the cross, and with the knights of the temple, whose characters were stained with the vilest of human passions.
The origin of their persecution at York was the following. It appears that Benedict and Jocenus, two of the richest Jews of York, were deputed by their brethren of that city to carry presents to the king on his coronation day. The fate of the former you have already heard; the latter was so far fortunate as to be able to return to York, where he related the sad catastrophe which had befallen his brethren in London; but instead of exciting commiseration in the breasts of his Gentile neighbours, his narrative had the effect of stimulating them to a like outrage. The houses of the richest of the Jews were accordingly spoiled and burned, and many, together with their families, were murdered. The common people, urged by the example of their superiors, fell upon such as escaped the first assaults, and with savage fury slew them, without regard to age or sex. Fifteen hundred, with their wives and children, escaped to the castle, and, by permission of the sheriff and keeper, took refuge there. Afterwards, thinking—for which they had good reason—that these officers also had taken part with their assailants, they refused to allow them to enter, whereupon the sheriff assembled an armed force, and laid siege to the castle. The mob joined in the attack, and though they were before sufficiently bent upon destruction and plunder, they were—to the shame of the ecclesiastics of that day be it recorded—further stimulated by the exhortations of the clergy. One in particular, a canon of the order of Præmonstratenses, displayed uncommon zeal on the occasion. For several days he appeared amongst the people, dressed in his surplice, after having eaten a consecrated host, and greatly increased their fury by continually calling out in a loud voice—“Destroy the enemies of Christ!—Destroy the enemies of Jesus!” At length the priest received the punishment his conduct justly merited; for having approached too near the walls, he was crushed to death by a stone which was rolled down from the battlements.
For a time the Jews defended themselves with desperate bravery; but the assault being warmly pressed, they found that they had no hopes of escape, and they offered a large sum of money that their lives might be spared. This was refused, and they proceeded again to take vigorous measures for their defence, determining to hold out to the last moment; calling at the same time—which was right—a council, to take into consideration what was to be done in case of their being driven to extremities, which consultation altered their purpose completely. For when they gathered themselves [♦]together into one place, one of their rabbies, a man of great authority amongst them, and who also made the convocation, stood up and addressed them in the following words:—“Ye men of Israel, the God of our fathers, to whom none can say, what doest thou? commands us at this time to die for his law; and behold! death is even before our eyes, and there is nothing left us to consider but how to undergo it in the most reputable and easy manner. If we fall into the hands of our enemies (which I think there is no possibility of escaping), our deaths will not only be cruel but ignominious. They will not only torment us, but despitefully use us. My advice therefore is, that we voluntarily surrender those lives to our Creator, which He seems to call for, and not wait for any other executioners than ourselves. The fact is both rational and lawful; nor do we want examples from amongst our illustrious ancestors, to prove it so: they have frequently proceeded in the like manner upon the same occasions.”[1] Thus spoke the old Rabbi, after which he sat down and wept.
[♦] ‘toegther’ replaced with ‘together’
[1] – See [Appendix D].
The auditors looked first wistfully at each other, and then gave utterance to their thoughts—some loudly approving the advice of the Rabbi, whilst others, with tears in their eyes, avowed their dissent from the Rabbi’s opinion.
To which the rabbi, standing up a second time, replied—“Seeing, brethren, that we are not all of one mind, let those who do not approve of this advice depart from this assembly.” The less courageous departed. But by far the greater number adhered steadfastly to the leader’s proposal. And as soon as they perceived themselves alone, which increased their despair, they first burned every thing belonging to them that was consumable by fire, and buried the remainder in the earth (to prevent its falling into the possession of their enemies); they then set fire to several places of the castle at once, after which each man took a sharp knife, and first cut the throats of their own wives and children, and then their own. The persons who remained last alive were this rash counsellor, and the aforementioned Jocenus, who were possessed of a strong desire to see everything performed according to their directions; for they did not survive much longer; as soon as that atrocious work was over, the Rabbi, out of respect to Jocenus (who was a person of importance), first slew him, and then himself.[1] When this dreadful act was completed, those who remained alive took up the dead bodies, and threw them over the walls, on the heads of the besiegers; and determined at last upon the expedient of their brethren. They also burned their clothes, and such of their valuables as would consume, and threw the rest of their treasures into the sinks and drains of the castle; and the greater part of those who survived, collecting themselves together in one of the buildings, set fire to it, and resigned themselves to the flames. A few only, of less courage than their brethren, still remained. These, coming forward upon the ramparts, called out to the assailants, and showed the manner in which their companions had fallen, and offered to receive baptism, if their lives might be spared. This was granted to them; but they no sooner passed the gate than the people fell upon them and slew them, with the exception of one or two who escaped; which proved that the Rabbi was not far wrong in his calculation. The populace afterwards betook themselves to the destroying and burning of all the houses of the Jews in the city which had not been previously demolished. Thus perished fifteen hundred Jews at York on this occasion, besides those who fell in the other parts of England.
[1] – Dr. Jost states, that “Jocenus first strangled his wife Hannah with his five children, and then allowed himself to be slain by the Rabbi, whose example was followed by all the remainder.”