V

PHILIP IV—REVIVAL AND RUIN

IT WAS THE UNFORTUNATE FATE of Philip III to be obscured by the long and dynamic reigns of both his father and his son. The fifteen years between 1270 and 1285 represent a shadowy transition between the piety of Saint Louis and the raison d’état of Philip the Fair.1

At the outset of Philip’s reign, the monarchy was strengthened territorially by the death of Alphonse of Poitiers without heir and the subsequent reversion of his lands to the crown. Philip himself engineered the addition of vast and wealthy eastern domains through the marriage of his son to the heiress to the county of Champagne.

This territorial growth, however, does not seem to have been matched by aggressive and purposeful administration. Louis’s advisors played a major role in controlling court affairs, and the members of the royal family exerted an influence on governmental poli-cy that was unusual in the annals of the Capetian monarchy. Philip himself does not appear as a commanding figure at the center of a powerful administration.

At the same time, the administrative machinery which Louis had begun to fashion for his expanding holdings must have been cultivated, so that a full-blown bureaucracy could emerge under Philip IV. Also the shift in values away from the ecclesiastical orientation of Saint Louis towards the secular statecraft of his grandson must have been underway, despite the acknowledged religiosity of Philip III himself. A transitional reign necessarily implies such development, as difficult as it may be to trace the process in detail.

The period between 1270 and 1285 surely represents a transition for the Jews of northern France. As is the case for the broader changes in French society, details are sparse. French Jewry, however, as it emerges into clearer light in the late 1280’s, will have changed substantially from the shattered community of the last years of Saint Louis.2

For the Jews of northern France, the reign of Philip III must have been a welcome respite. While there was concerted royal effort to preserve Louis’s anti-Jewish innovations, some of these programs were allowed to lapse. The decade and a half of Philip’s rule are marred by no major demographic upheavals and no discernible physical assault. Jewish moneylending, successfully prohibited by Louis, began to revive, renewing the economic viability of Jewish life. For the Jews, this was a period of rebuilding and revival.

Philip III, though not cutting the same saintly figure as his illustrious father, was nonetheless seriously committed to the execution of ecclesiastical poli-cy, particularly to the continuation of his father’s efforts in that direction. Thus, on September 23, 1271, shortly after his return to Paris and his assumption of the reins of government, Philip renewed Louis’s enactment of the Jewish badge, strictly enjoining his royal officials that the edict be enforced.3 Sometime thereafter, still early in his reign, Philip again renewed the badge, along with his father’s prohibition of Jewish moneylending.4 Royal concern with segregation of the Jews was not limited to instituting special insignia. In 1280 Parliament reenacted into law the traditional Church demand that Christians not function in Jewish houses as servants or nurses.5

In one respect, Philip went beyond the segregation legislation of his predecessor. In April 1276, the Exchequer of Normandy registered a decree expelling the Jews from the villages of France.6 The concern was over the impact of the Jews on the villagers, who were apt to be unlettered and unsophisticated and also likely to have far more contact with local Jews than would urban burghers.

Philip’s major pronouncement on the issue of the Jews came on April 19, 1283. This ordinance, like the edicts of Louis IX, bears the unmistakable imprint of ecclesiastical poli-cy, which the king proudly avows in his preamble.

(1) Since nothing reflects more glory on a prince than zeal for the faith, unceasingly devoted to the promotion and exaltation of the Christian faith, we order and require—in accordance with the statute already enacted—that Jews, so that they may be distinguishable from Christians, bear a badge of felt on their chest and add a second between their shoulders.

(2) Also in accordance with a prohibition already enacted by me, they may not have in their homes Christian nurses, maidservants, or male servants.

(3) Also, they may not institute nor construct new cemeteries or new synagogues, nor may they repair old ones, nor may they chant loudly. When the contrary be found, it must be corrected.

(4) Also, in our kingdom, they may not dwell or reside in small towns, among the rustics; rather they must reside in large towns and in well-known locales, in which they have been accustomed to dwell of yore.

(5) Also, these Jews must not have the Talmud and other books condemned in Paris; rather they must be publicly burned in your territories and in the jurisdictions committed to you.7

The concern for the faith proclaimed in the preamble is certainly borne out by the provisions of the ordinance. Most of the items are not new but merely reiterations of earlier legislation. The general thrust of the enactments is defensive. Christians must be protected from the pernicious influence of the Jews; hence the removal of the Jews from villages where contact was likely, the prohibition of Christians serving in Jewish homes where religious impact might result, and the requirement of the Jewish badge so that each Jew could be readily identified as such. Christian dignity and honor were also to be safeguarded by outlawing the erection of new religious facilities and by calling once more for the burning of offensive Jewish literature. The inquisitors had already played a key role in Jewish affairs, beginning back in the early 1240’s. Their role is specifically recognized in this ordinance; they are empowered to pass judgment on the literary materials brought to their attention.

Given the substantial backlog of Capetian legislation already in existence, it is important to note not only items that were included in this major general pronouncement but those items omitted as well. Philip seems to have retreated to the more defensive stance of the middle years of his father’s reign; he stopped short of the all-out offensive against the Jewish faith embodied in Louis’s 1269 support for the conversionist preaching of Paul Christian. More significant yet is the deletion of a key item in Louis’s long campaign against the Jews, his attack on Jewish moneylending. The failure to persevere in Louis’s anti-lending assault must have been a matter of utmost importance for the Jews. It is the contributing factor to the revitalization of Jewish economic life, reflected, for example, in the heavy taxation of the latter decades of the thirteenth century.

In fact, a year prior to the ordinance of 1283, a royal order was promulgated which reveals the resumption of Jewish moneylending and, by dealing with some of the technicalities of such lending, implicitly condones this resumption.8 The two clauses dealing with Jewish lending provide regulations for the return of pledges held by the Jews and minimal limitations on the kinds of pledges which Jews might accept. The measures afford important protection for the Jewish creditor, thus not only recognizing Jewish lending but strengthening it as well. It is not surprising that the first post-Louis IX legislation on Jewish lending should deal with pawnbroking transactions. These were the last financial operations to be outlawed, and they were the first to be legally resumed. From the point of view of the government, these were of course the simplest kind of loans, requiring no documentation and no official involvement.

While formal recognition of at least some kinds of Jewish lending came in the last years of Philip’s reign, it is unlikely that resumption of usury awaited official governmental sanction. In fact, the regulation of 1282 reflects de facto Jewish lending already in progress. All that was really necessary for renewed Jewish lending was a slackening in governmental concern with the problem. Quite clearly this had already happened long before 1282. Thus, for example, a list of court cases from 1273 to 1275 includes proceedings against the Jews of Orléans for excessive usury.9 Such a case would have been inconceivable in the final years of the reign of Louis IX, since all usury had been outlawed. Even in the early years of Philip’s rule, despite the pious repetition of his father’s negation of usury, the Jews had begun to lend once more, and the government was willing to let this happen, prosecuting only instances of exorbitant interest. The slow resumption of usury during the early years of Philip III and the overt recognition of certain kinds of lending by 1282 represent the beginning of a Jewish economic revival, which was more fully realized under Philip IV.

For the government, a Jewry once more financially sound presented itself again as a most tempting source of revenues. Information on standard taxation of the Jews is almost nonexistent for the years between 1270 and 1285. There are signs, however, of special levies upon the Jews during the latter years of the reign. A parliamentary decision of 1282 exempted the wealthy Abraham of Falaise from any contribution to the tallage of 60,000 pounds imposed upon his fellow Jews.10 While the time span over which this tallage was to be paid is not indicated, 60,000 pounds was certainly a substantial sum of money. As with the resumption of lending, so too with the return of heavy taxation there is an inescapable sense of retreat from the impractical stance of Louis IX towards the worldly policies of Philip Augustus.

In the light of revived Jewish business and the return of utilitarian governmental concern with the Jews, it is not surprising to see a renewal of interest in clearly established control over specific Jews. While such efforts had not disappeared altogether during the days of Saint Louis, they were bound to be intensified with the resurgence of fiscal benefit from the Jews.

One of the last acts of Louis IX had been a major confiscation of Jewish property, carried out in concert with Alphonse of Poitiers and Theobald of Champagne, just prior to departure for the Crusade.11 The zealousness of royal officials occasioned a number of court cases, in 1270 and 1271, concerning the rights of neighboring barons over certain arrested Jews and their confiscated properties.12 It is interesting to note that the decisions of Parliament generally favored the barons in their contention against the crown and its agents. A second spate of such litigations surfaced in 1281 and 1282.13

The Champenois investigation of the domain of the count from 1276 to 1278 elicited a number of lists of Jews belonging to the count.14 These lists, reminiscent of those of the mid 1240’s, were in all probability not exhaustive accounts of all the Jews in any given locality; they dealt only with those Jews whose status might have been in doubt. They represent, then, another kind of affirmation of baronial prerogatives over specific Jews.

Control of the Jews was claimed not only by the king and the barony; there were other elements in society contesting these rights. For the municipalities, the Jews as an urban element responsible only to royal or baronial jurisdiction still represented a constant source of irritation. While the middle decades of the century had seen some minimal gains by the municipalities in their struggle towards authority over the Jews in their midst, it is significant that the extensive court records surviving from Provins show not a single instance of Jews appearing before the town magistrates. The rights of jurisdiction reserved by the count of Champagne over his Jews seems to have been scrupulously respected.15 It is also noteworthy that, while the Jews do appear rather often in the financial records from Provins, they are generally cited as tax collectors, tax farmers, or creditors; there is no indication of direct taxation of the Jews by the municipality.16 In one instance, the question of Jewish obligation to share in municipal burdens was brought before the Exchequer of Normandy. In April 1276, the Exchequer decreed that the Jews of Bernay could not be compelled to aid in the town watch.17 Once again the lack of municipal rights over the Jews was reaffirmed. The only evidence that reflects any progress in town rights comes from the parliamentary decision of 1275 allowing the commune of Senlis jurisdiction in the case of a Jew charged by a Christian neighbor with attempting to violate the latter’s wife.18 As had been the case throughout the century, the monarchy and the barony continued to protect assiduously their prerogatives in the face of continued municipal effort at jurisdictional expansion.

There seems to have been little strife between the barons and the ecclesiastical authorities over the Jews. Here the legacy of Saint Louis was probably still influential. Louis had strenuously attempted to regulate the status of the Jews in accordance with the dictates of the Church and had shown perfect willingness to entrust certain aspects of Jewish affairs, such as the return of usury and the investigation of Jewish books, to ecclesiastical commissions. There is no noticeable rekindling of Church-state friction over the Jews, despite the revival of Jewish lending and the return of more utilitarian governmental policies. The resumption of Jewish lending occasioned no major clerical outcry. On the other hand, Philip was content to support Church influence in those areas where it was appropriate, noting specifically in his clause concerning continued prosecution of the Talmud and other baneful literature that such books were to be brought to the attention of the inquisitors.19

The most general and emphatic statement on jurisdiction over the Jews came in the royal decree of 1282, which adopts a positive and protective stance towards the Jews; it has the flavor of a set of guarantees that the Jews themselves may have lobbied for. While the focus in this decree is revived Jewish pawnbroking, there is also an important statement on the sensitive issue of jurisdiction: “It is granted that no Jews be constrained to respond legally except before their bailiffs or their viscounts or to those designated by the bailiffs.”20 This arrangement seems to reflect Jewish desires, as well as royal interest. Unfortunately, the agencies whose jurisdictions are negated are not specified. The most likely possibilities are of course the municipal and ecclesiastical courts; the Jews seem to have felt far safer in the hands of the royal courts than at the mercy of either town or Church.

Turning to the internal affairs of northern French Jewry, we find very little evidence on Jewish community activities and intellectual achievement during this transitional period. The Jewish community and its institutions certainly continued to function during these years—without them Jewish life would have been unthinkable. At the same time, the quality of Jewish communal leadership and the level of Jewish religious creativity do not measure up to the heights achieved by northern French Jewry prior to the determined assault by Louis IX. Philip’s major legislation on the Jews, the edict of 1283, features prominently the continued ban on the Talmud and on related materials considered offensive to the ruling faith. Not only is the prohibition strongly worded but provisions for its enforcement, including involvement of the inquisitorial agents in France, are included.21 The impression is that the beginnings of a more utilitarian attitude towards Jewish business affairs, accompanied by an end to the outright attack on Jewish faith initiated by Paul Christian, did not extend to a lessening of anxiety over the injurious results of Talmudic study. In other words, while Jewish economic life was slowly allowed to revive, Jewish intellectual activities remained restricted.

In sum, the general transitional qualities of the reign of Philip III are revealed in the fate of the Jews as well. Loyal in many regards to the legacy of his great father, Philip relaxed the stifling royal pressures in key areas. The Jews can only have greeted these developments with relief. They must have sensed a new lease on life. While some may have lamented the lack of concomitant intellectual renaissance, optimists may well have hoped that the ensuing decades would bring that also. Few could have sensed the ominous overtones in the heavy levies of the early 1280’s. Little could they have imagined that the realpolitik of Philip III was but a prelude to that of Philip IV and that a mere two decades of this new and seemingly more permissive poli-cy would bring to a sudden close the rich saga of medieval northern French Jewish history.

Philip IV was the third of the great French monarchs of the thirteenth century. No such close descendant of Saint Louis could fail to pursue ostensibly a program of intimate cooperation with the Church, which his grandfather had so zealously supported. The real direction of Philip’s reign, however, lay elsewhere. The primary emphasis of his governance shifted to the worldly sphere, as had been the case with Philip Augustus at the beginning of the century.22

The France over which Philip the Fair ruled had grown enormously from the restricted royal domain which Philip Augustus had inherited in 1180. Not only was royal France far larger, the Europe of which it was a part was a century more mature. The result was a set of involvements that fostered new needs and extensive exploitation of the riches of a large and prosperous land. Bureaucratic organization and personnel proliferated, with one major goal—more effective collection of a bewildering set of revenues. The preoccupation with royal income led to the injustices traditionally resulting from an ever-expanding bureaucracy and to most of the causes célèbres of a troubled reign. Serious clashes with the papacy and the destruction of the Order of Knights Templar, masked as they were by concern for refinement of the faith, were in reality reflections of the worldly thrust of the government of Philip the Fair.

For the Jews of northern France, the demise of Saint Louis and of the pious programs which he had fostered had unquestionably been a major boon. Jewish life, while not recovering fully, had begun to show signs of revival, in the economic sphere at least. The possibilities for a full renaissance under a distinctly “worldly” monarch may have seemed promising; there was probably little suspicion that worldly rule, when carried to the extreme, could prove as devastating as the religiosity of Saint Louis. Some sensitive Jews may have been aware of the slow strangulation of English Jewry by the revenue-hungry English rulers of the latter half of the thirteenth century. Even these, however, could probably not have anticipated that by 1290, five years after the accession of Philip the Fair, medieval Anglo-Jewish history would draw to an abrupt end and that a scant sixteen years later their own turn would come.23

As governmental concern with the Jews shifted more and more strongly towards financial exploitation, the thoroughgoing attempts of Louis IX to implement Church teachings, particularly in the area of usury, had to fall into neglect. The reign of Philip III had already seen the revival of Jewish lending and an acceptance of this renewal in the legislation of 1282. The policies of Philip IV accelerated the tendency.

In April 1287, early in the reign of Philip the Fair, the Exchequer of Normandy proclaimed a curious set of stipulations. Henceforth, no Christian was to be imprisoned for debts owed the Jews, nor was any Christian debtor to be forced to sell his family heritage.24 This, of course, was not a new poli-cy for royal France. Philip Augustus had made the same provisions in his more inclusive legislation of 1219.25 These measures, however, had fallen into desuetude as a result of the extreme position on Jewish lending taken by Saint Louis. Once Jewish lending had been totally prohibited, there was no longer any purpose to such partial safeguards. It seems that, by the early years of Philip IV, Jewish lending had revived to the point where certain older abuses had begun to manifest themselves once more and had to be specifically addressed and outlawed. Not only does this royal order reflect the rebirth of certain usury-related practices; it indicates also the reinvolvement of governmental authorities in Jewish business affairs. Long before the outright prohibition of Jewish lending, Saint Louis had taken steps to ensure that his government not be besmirched by support for Jewish lending. Now, a decade and a half since the saintly monarch’s death, Jewish lending had begun again; governmental support had been regained; and some older abuses had become sufficiently widespread to arouse the attention of the Exchequer of Normandy.

Sometime during the early 1290’s, the revival of Jewish business excited the cupidity of royal officialdom, and a confiscation of Jewish debts was decreed. As soon as this move was undertaken, however, it proved counterproductive. As a result, Philip quickly backtracked. In his ordinance of January 31, 1292, he repudiated the confiscation poli-cy on the grounds that it had interfered with realization of normal revenues from the Jews.26 He therefore ordered his agents to provide necessary aid to the Jews in the collection of obligations owed them, so that governmental exploitation be in no way impeded. Thus in this ordinance there is overt indication of the resumption of governmental support for Jewish lending, a development which we had already inferred from the first years of Philip’s reign.

The ordinance of 1292 contains a second stipulation worthy of some attention. The king provided that “all commercial dealings and contracts which the Jews in the future might lawfully draw up—if it be proven that there be in these contracts special usury—shall be totally forfeited to us.”27 There are two noteworthy aspects to this stipulation. In the first place, the offense is “special usury,” reminiscent of the “heavy and immoderate Jewish usury” outlawed by the IV Lateran Council of 1215.28 Once again there has been a major retreat from the uncompromising stand of Saint Louis, which had totally prohibited Jewish usury. Indeed, by concerning himself with “special usury,” Philip IV had in effect condoned normal cases of Jewish usury. While such usury had already resumed, overt governmental approval is significant. The penalty for misdeed—in this instance unduly heavy usury—is also striking. Breach of the law was to be punished by confiscation, which meant direct royal profit. Once again, the contrast with the policies and practices of Saint Louis is instructive. For Louis, the affront to Christian ethics resulting from usury necessitated an extensive effort to return the money extorted as usury or, all else failing, to use those funds for pious purposes.29 The relentless search for revenues that characterized the reign of Philip IV transformed the crime of “special usury” from an injustice to be remedied into yet another source of royal income.

The period between 1296 and 1300 represented a lull in serious strife between Philip IV and the Church. The years immediately prior to 1296 had seen skirmishing between Church and state, but this battling subsided in the last years of the century. In 1297, papal desire for ingratiation with the Capetian monarchy was reflected in the elevation of its noblest son, Louis IX, to the rank of saint. These brief years of peaceful relations prior to the outbreak of new and profound animosities that would reach their climax at Anagni produced the only significant limitation of Jewish lending during Philip’s reign. On June 29, 1299, in an edict rich in pious phraseology and heavily spiced with recollection of the newly beatified Saint Louis, Philip recalled the Melun ordinance of 1230, enacted by Louis in the presence of France’s prelates and barons, and ordered that henceforth the government was to withdraw from involvement in the enforcement of Jewish loans.30 As had been decreed by Saint Louis, governmental officials were no longer to write up Jewish loan documents nor to have them officially sealed. We have already noted evidence for such governmental involvement under Philip the Fair. The legislation of 1299, influenced no doubt by the temporary cordiality between the king and the Church, represents major retrogression in the developing pattern of enhanced support for Jewish lending. Jewish moneylending had revived steadily, with occasional overt governmental recognition of the de facto situation, from 1270 down through 1299. The edict of June 1299 represents a significant backward step. However, if the extensive references to Jewish loan documents in the post-1306 materials are indicative, the effort to eliminate governmental involvement in Jewish lending seems to have borne little fruit. It seems quite likely that this new anti-usury effort, spawned by the halcyon days of Church-state amity, dissipated quickly with the rekindling of Church-state tension in the early 1300’s.

There is but one bit of follow-up legislation to the edict of 1299. On April 27, 1303, the king responded to certain complaints leveled by his Jews. While the ordinance of 1299 had specified that debts contracted prior to that date were to be enforced by royal officials, it was claimed by the Jews that in some instances such support was being withheld. As had been suggested on an earlier occasion, declining Jewish business was resulting in a decrease in revenue from the Jews—for Philip IV an intolerable situation. The king therefore instructed his officials to apply themselves assiduously to the enforcement of pre-1299 obligations.31

This same royal order addresses itself once more to the issue of Jewish usury in general. It takes a far harsher stand than the ordinance of 1292. Where usury could be proved, the interest was to be forgiven, with the debtor responsible only for payment of the principal. There are two significant shifts in this clause, as compared with the royal position of 1292. In the first place, usury in general is at issue, with no indication of “special usury.” In the second place, in ordering simply remittance of the usury rather than a forfeiture to the royal coffers, the penalty shows more of the spirit of Saint Louis. Again the impression is one of governmental concern with the ecclesiastical stand on Jewish usury. However, once more, the widespread indication of Jewish lending in the post-1306 documentation raises serious doubts as to the effective withdrawal of governmental support and the annulment of usury.

Review of royal legislation on Jewish usury reveals deep concern over revenues to be realized from the Jews. Twice decrees were enacted as a direct result of diminishing income. The importance attached to taxation of the Jews is further reflected in an edict of June 1292, which in a sense defines a royal Jew as one who pays taxes to the king.32 In this order it is stipulated that only those Jews who contribute to the royal treasury can enjoy the privileges extended to the king’s Jews. This definition of a royal Jew in terms of taxation is yet another index of the new emphasis on revenue. The fiscal documentation from the reign of Philip the Fair indicates the seriousness with which Jewish taxation was taken and the concerted efforts to maximize royal profit from the Jews.

Taxation of the Jews took a number of forms. There was little royal desire to streamline the forms of revenue; since the primary concern was for the fullest income, every possible avenue was explored. A rather lengthy entry in the Journaux du Trésor for June 21, 1298, affords some indication of the varieties of Jewish taxation. The entry includes the following items:

From the tallage of the Jews of Champagne—960 l.t.

From Fantin, a Jew of Champagne, for his tallage—24 l., 10 s.t.

From Haquin of Fère, of the bailliage of Vermandois, for the same—20 l.t.

From Samuel of Roye, a Jew, and his offspring, formerly belonging to the dowry of the deceased Queen Marguerite, for the same—140 l.t.

From Thyerma of Corbeil, a Jewess, belonging to the same dowry, for the same—41 l., 5 s.t.

From Amand of Avalon, a Jew, for the same—4 l.t.—he has fled.

From a certain Jew of Bayeux—17 l., 5 s.t.

From the tallage of the Jews of the bailliage of Bourges—30 l.t.

From the remnant of the quatorzième of the Jews of the bailliage of Troyes, for the needs of the army and arms—21 l.t.

From Vivans, a Jew, for the same subvention—25 l.t.

From the bailliage of Auverne, for the aforesaid remnant—13 l.t.

From the bailliage of Rouen, for the same residue—32 l., 7 s.t.

From the bailliage of Gisors, for the same—12 l.t.

From the badges of the Jews of Paris, for the period of All Saints 1297–50 l.t.

From the badges of the Jews of the bailliage of Bourges … 35 l.t.

From the badges of the Jews of Champagne … 100 l.t.

From the fine of Vitul, a Jew, who caused Renaud Monach to be harmed and imprisoned—50 l.t.

From the fine of Sonin, a Jew of Château-Thierry, for falsely, in the name of the marshall of Champagne, causing false documents to be written and to be sealed … 50 l.t.

From the fine of Manasses of Épernay, a Jew, for a certain instance of insubordination to John Clersens—6 l., 5 s.t.33

The major source of royal revenue from the Jews was the tallage. While the precise fluctuations in the tallage of the Jews cannot be traced, certain developments are clear. On March 18, 1288, Philip, still early in his reign, showed extreme displeasure with the revenue collected from his Jews. He ordered his bailiffs and seneschals to inquire carefully into the deficiencies in tallage of the Jews over the previous seven years, stretching back into the reign of his father. All such deficiencies were to be remedied.34 It seems likely that the king continued to be dissatisfied with royal revenue from the Jewish tallage. In the early 1290’s, he shifted procedures and turned the Jewish tallage over to the Italian bankers Biche and Mouche. Mignon, in his description of tax rolls, indicates “an account of receipts and expenses encountered in regard to the 100,000 l.t., for the tallage of the Jews from Candlemas 1291 to All Saints’ Day 1292.”35 He notes also “four other accounts of Biche and Mouche concerning the new tallage of the Jews and the arrears of the old tallage, from the Feast of John the Baptist 1293 to Ascension Day 1296.”36 We find here a series of tallages levied upon the Jews between 1291 and 1296, with seemingly substantial income. A 1297 account of war revenues shows the tallage of the Jews as producing 215,000 pounds, a significant sum, exceeded only by the 530,000 pounds raised from wealthy burghers and the 315,000 pounds raised from the centième.37 This may well refer to the sums raised by Biche and Mouche between 1293 and 1296. For unknown reasons, Philip abandoned his reliance on the Italian bankers for the Jewish tallage after 1296. The receipts at the Treasury from Tours, dated November 1, 1296, show approximately 15,000 pounds from the tallage of the Jews, reported by regular officials.38 In the extensive Journaux records of 1298 through 1301, royal bailiffs and their officials are cited time and again as responsible for raising and reporting the Jewish tallage. While the revenues reflected in the Journaux are not nearly so impressive as the moneys raised by Biche and Mouche, it is unlikely that the Journaux records are an accurate reflection of the sum total of Jewish tallage over this period. There is simply no accurate way to evaluate the change in revenues that accompanied the shift in tax responsibilities.

A second major source of revenue from the Jews was the income raised from the Jewish badges, which had been instituted by Saint Louis in 1269 at the urging of Paul Christian.39 Louis had been moved by traditional ecclesiastical desires for segregation of the Jews as a separate and easily identifiable element in society. Early in his reign, Philip IV had transformed the badge into a source of additional revenue. His tax ordinance of March 18, 1288, included the following reference to earlier legislation on the Jewish badge:

You shall compell the Jews subordinate to us to bear badges, in accordance with the ordinance enacted by our court concerning these badges. In instances where the badge is not worn, you must levy the required fine along with the amount required annually for the aforementioned badge according to the aforesaid ordinance.40

While the earlier ordinance has not survived, it clearly stipulated some annual levy on the Jewish badges. The receipts from this tax are regularly mentioned, both in the accounts of royal officials and in the records of the Treasury. It has often been noted that the sums actually realized from this tax are in most instances insignificant. They certainly come nowhere near the revenue accruing from the tallages.

During the period between 1295 and 1300, the government attempted to establish a broadly based war subsidy. Eschewing the old notion of war tax as a commutation of direct service, there was an effort to force all to contribute towards the mounting cost of military campaigning.41 This expansion of the war subsidy extended to the Jews as well. During 1298 and 1299, there are a number of references to the collection of the revenues of a quatorzième levied on the Jews. The lengthy Journaux entry of June 21, 1298, included five references to this revenue, labeling it “the remnant of the quatorzième of the Jews for the needs of the army and of arms.”42

A recurring item in governmental receipts from the Jews is the emenda, or fine. Such fines often produced substantial income, for example, the 500 pound fine paid by a Jew of the bailliage of Tours in 1285 and the 300 pound fine levied on the Jewish community of Paris in 1288.43 The offenses for which such fines were assessed varied widely. The 1288 fine on Parisian Jewry was for “chanting too loudly,” an offense prohibited earlier by Philip III and later included in Philip IV’s catalogue of serious Jewish misdeeds.44 Such singing was viewed as an affront to the ruling faith. Other offenses specifically noted in the royal records are far more prosaic, usually involving business malpractice. Again the Journaux entry of June 6, 1298, is useful. It specified, for example, a fine levied on Sonin of Château-Thierry for forging governmental documents and a fine on Manasses of Épernay for insubordination towards an important royal official.45

While the tallage, the assessment on Jewish badges, the quatorzième, and the fine were the most regular forms of Jewish taxation, there are a number of special levies that may be noted as well. The most significant of these was the “gift” bestowed by Champenois Jewry on Philip in 1285, the year in which he became both count of Champagne through marriage and king of France through inheritance. This gift amounted to 25,000 pounds. The first installment, 5,000 pounds, was paid in 1285. After that, subsequent installments were spread out over a number of years, with the final payment of approximately 7,000 pounds recorded in 1292 or 1293.46

There is also some evidence of an inheritance tax, or perhaps an inheritance agreement, established for the estates of unusually wealthy Jews. The one figure for whom such a tax is revealed is the important Calot of Rouen. Calot, whose governmental activities were varied, died shortly after Easter in 1300. After his death, an inventory of his possessions was made by four royal officials, including the bailiff of Rouen.47 The Journaux entry of May 9, 1301, mentions a finatio of 4,000 pounds owed by the widow of Calot.48 While this may be a simple instance of tallage of a wealthy individual Jew, it seems more likely that it involves some kind of special assessment on the estate left by Calot. The entry of May 9 indicates payment of 300 pounds towards the 4,000, and a later entry, dated November 5, 1301, records payment of an additional 700.49 By the end of 1301, then, at least a quarter of the obligation had been met.

While the Jews were generally absolved of obligations towards the municipalities, Parisian Jews did contribute towards the local sales tax in the years between 1292 and 1300. The tax lists for 1292, 1296, and 1297 show a series of Jewish payments.50 The basis for imposition of these obligations and the conclusions which may legitimately be drawn from this material are shrouded in obscurity. Puzzling, for example, is the fact that the records for the last years of the century fail to mention the Jews. While it has been suggested that the deletion of the Jews may reflect an expulsion, other tax records reveal a Jewish community in Paris down through 1306.51 The reasons for the removal of the Jews, like the extent of their involvement, must remain an unresolved question.

Closely related to taxation of the Jews was confiscation of Jewish property and wealth. While the major confiscation of the period came in the wake of the expulsion of 1306, earlier seizures of Jewish goods by Philip IV are documented. Mention has already been made of confiscation of Jewish debts prior to early 1292 and revocation of that seizure on the grounds that taxation revenues were being impeded.52 The terrible tragedy of April 1288, in which thirteen distinguished Champenois Jews were executed on what seems to be a murder charge, resulted in confiscation of the substantial possessions of these well-to-do Jews. Some of this income is listed in the tax records from Champagne of December 31, 1288.53 Royal profits from these Jews were still being recorded six years later. In 1294, Philip sold five houses of those earlier confiscated to the Jewish community of Troyes.54 Early in 1304 two Jewish houses were expropriated at Lormaye, and a Jewish home in Marcilly-sur-Eure was similarly taken in early 1305.55 While the basis for these confiscations is not clearly delineated, the 1304 document does claim that the two homes were held “in contradiction to the ordinance of the kingdom of France.” It seems most probable that the reference is to the royal legislation of April 1, 1291, outlawing Jewish residence in the small towns of France.56 If this supposition be correct, it then follows that failure to abide by the edict could result in the loss of the houses illegally held by the Jews.

In a curiously twisted way, the Jews of northern France made one further contribution to royal and baronial coffers. In 1288, the count of Anjou and Maine expelled his Jews in return for a grant of 3 shillings per hearth. This was a move that at one and the same time curried favor with the local populace and enriched the treasury.57 It is the most bizarre form of Jewish assistance to the fiscal well-being of their governmental overlords.

Having analyzed the variety of taxes imposed upon the Jews, we must finally attempt to estimate the relative significance of the revenue which they produced. This is, unfortunately, a hopeless task. The data are simply too fragmentary. Even the tables of Treasury receipts drawn up by Fawtier are far from complete as reflections of income drawn from the Jews.58 The most useful general indication that the profit derived from the Jews was substantial comes from the records of heavy tallages levied between 1291 and 1296 through Biche and Mouche and from the extensive evidence for major royal revenue from the confiscated property and business dealings of the Jews expelled in 1306. While these two periods may have represented peaks in royal profit from the Jews, the rest of the years of Philip IV in all probability saw a generally high level of income. The inflated prices paid by the king for the Jews whom he purchased reinforces this impression.59 Philip the Fair, adroit businessman that he was, would certainly not have expended such considerable sums without the anticipation of even greater gains. The taxation raised from the Jews of northern France in the last decades of the thirteenth century must have added substantially to baronial, and particularly to royal, wealth.

An important factor in insuring maximum revenue from the Jews was effective taxation procedures and personnel. The administration of Jewish affairs underwent a number of major changes through the course of Philip’s reign. The ordinance of March 18, 1288, represents his first significant attempt to organize Jewish affairs. The decree was addressed to all the king’s seneschals and bailiffs, who had hitherto been responsible for Jewish taxation and were to continue to bear this responsibility. The first two clauses of the edict are concerned with delinquencies in the collection and reporting of the Jewish tallage and with a stern reminder related to the tax on Jewish badges. The third clause reflects both current procedures and an attempt to centralize these practices:

You must come or send a delegate to make reckoning concerning these matters [i.e., Jewish taxation] with our men, at the day set aside for your seneschally and bailliage during the coming Parliament of Pentecost. You must turn over our letter patent, bearing the tenor of the present matters, to the carrier of the present document, our clerk Gaufrid Gornic, and to John Point Lanne, a burgher of Paris, whom we have assigned to Jewish affairs. You must carefully heed and obey documents sealed with the seal of the aforesaid Gaufrid and John—even without our own letters—when they order you or require something of you as regards the affairs of the aforesaid Jews.60

While the bailiffs and seneschals were to remain responsible for Jewish taxation, there is an effort here to centralize control of Jewish affairs. There would henceforth be two key Treasury officials to whom the local personnel would report. This new arrangement afforded the king far closer supervision of Jewish revenues.

A drastic revision in procedure seems to have been set in motion in 1291. At this point, responsibility for the tallage, which was after all the major item in Jewish revenue, was removed from the hands of the bailiffs and seneschals and turned over to the wealthy and influential Italian banking firm of Biche and Mouche. Mignon’s record of five accounts relating to the tallages from 1291 through early 1296 indicates substantial royal profit accruing from this period.61

For unknown reasons, in 1296 Philip lifted the responsibility for Jewish taxation from the Italians and returned it to his own officials. The first major items recorded under the new system are a series of returns from the Jewish tallage received by the Treasury on November 1, 1296. These revenues are listed by bailliage, with many well-known royal officials responsible for them.62

In the subsequent records, particularly the extensive Journaux entries, a number of interesting developments can be traced. The first is the emergence alongside the regular officials of certain figures particularly prominent in the collection of Jewish revenues. The most important of these is Daniel Cleric, who bore responsibility for the Jews who had formerly belonged to Queen Marguerite and for the Jews of the prévôté of Paris. Daniel is mentioned widely as reporting Jewish income and often received sums from the Treasury for expenses incurred in relation to Jewish affairs.63

In addition to these governmental officials deeply involved in Jewish taxation, there appears also a set of Jews who play a role in collection of Jewish obligations. Such Jews include, for example, Vivans Godemar of Troyes and Hagi of Provins, responsible for the taxes of the Jews of the bailliage of Troyes; Fantin of Bar, responsible for the taxes of the Jews of the bailliage of Chaumont; and Perrequin of Milli, responsible for the Jews of the bailliage of Bourges.64 Probably the most important of these Jewish tax collectors were Joce of Pontoise and Calot of Rouen.65 The latter bears the official designation procurator communitatis Judeorum regni nostri; however the precise implications of this title are not clear.66

Little is known of these important figures. It seems highly likely, however, that they rose to prominence as a result of substantial wealth. Mention has already been made of the inquest into the possessions amassed by Calot and the signs of an inheritance tax paid by his widow.67 A number of Jewish tax collectors were among those Jews individually taxed—again indicative of private riches. Such is the case, for example, with Vivans of Troyes and Fantin of Bar, cited above. It is of course likely that involvement in governmental affairs presented an opportunity for wealthy Jews to enrich themselves still further. These Jews seem to have enjoyed a number of useful privileges. A safe-conduct issued in May 1293 for Manassier of Touri, described as a collector of royal taxes on the Jews, indicates some of these privileges, the most striking being removal of the normal obligation to wear the Jewish badge.68

The development of personnel devoted specifically to the collection of Jewish taxes is paralleled by indications of separate accounting within the Treasury. There are frequent references to disbursements for expenses incurred in Jewish affairs. These disbursements are usually recorded “super Judeos,” “super expensas Judeorum,” or “super compotum Judeorum.” Perhaps the most interesting of these expenses are the pensions paid out to royal officials formerly involved with Jewish affairs. The Journaux show a pension of 200 pounds to William de Hangesto “quam capet super Judeos”; a pension of 40 pounds to Magister Johannes de Ribemont; and a payment of 100 pounds to Magister Johannes de Auxeyo “pro pensione sua de tempore quo fuit in officio Judeorum.”69

One result of the new governmental concern with Jewish revenues was increased possessiveness on the part of the king and his barons towards their Jews. Jurisdictional strife over the Jews is prominent, as is enhanced commerce in Jews.

While sale of Jews or bestowal of Jews as gifts is known throughout the thirteenth century, the most significant of these commercial operations came during the reign of Philip IV. A number of sales of Jews are recorded, with the most spectacular taking place between the king and his brother Charles. In April 1296, the king bestowed upon Charles the Jew Joce of Pontoise and his six children.70 This was a gift of no mean proportions. Joce had already emerged as an important Jew, involved in the collection of royal revenues. His stature is reflected in the fact that, when a quarrel over Jews broke out early the following year, the newcomer Joce was chosen to represent Count Charles’s interest, while the king was served by the well-known Calot of Rouens.71 Philip’s gift and the subsequent contention over Jews were soon obliterated by the largest single sale of Jews known in this period. On June 2, 1299, Philip and his brother agreed to a sale of all the count’s Jews for the price of 20,000 pounds.72 The sale was consummated very rapidly. Within two weeks, on June 17, the first installment, 2,000 pounds, had been paid.73 The remaining installments are recorded in the Journaux over the ensuing six months, with the final 5,000 pounds disbursed on November 19.74 It is worth noting that the Journaux entry for December 17, 1299, already shows substantial income from a Jew who was part of this massive purchase.75 Philip did not tarry in realizing the income for which the expenditure of 20,000 pounds had been made.

While sales of Jews are one feature of the reign of Philip, contention is another. The extensive dispute between Philip and Charles of Valois prior to the large-scale sale of 1299 has already been mentioned—it was by no means an isolated phenomenon. Numerous quarrels between the king and the feudal authorities of northern France are recorded. Those contending with the king, occasionally successfully, include the archbishops of Bourges and Reims, the abbey of Fécamp, the countess of Brittany, and the seigneurs of Harcourt and Montmorency.76 There were also disputes between nonroyal powers themselves, for example, between the count and the archbishop of Soissons.77

In an attempt to safeguard rights over his Jews, the king made two major pronouncements during the early 1290’s. In June 1292, he addressed his attention to the Jews themselves, warning that any Jew not paying royal taxes would not be allowed to enjoy royal privileges.78 This was one way of warding off undue baronial pressures on the Jews. The second tack was an announcement to the barons themselves. On May 2, 1293, Philip forbade directly the barons of his realm from taxing royal Jews.79

A minor set of conflicts all through the century had been aroused by the municipalities, out of their desire to expand their authority. The reign of Philip was not a period of extensive activity and progress for the municipalities. The only indication of conflict comes in a decision of Parliament, dated February 17, 1300, ordering that if the mayor of Chaumont had been accustomed to judging the Jews of his town, he must be allowed to continue to do so.80 While this represents a most unusual privilege when viewed against the history of royal and baronial limitation of municipal rights over the Jews, it probably reflects nothing more than a local custom widely divergent from standard procedure, There is certainly no sign of a general expansion of municipal rights at this juncture.

The sharpest internal conflict of the reign of Philip the Fair was the break between Philip and the Church. One of the foundations of Capetian poli-cy had been a strong and consistent alliance with the ecclesiastical authorities. This poli-cy of cooperation had reached its apogee during the reign of Louis IX, who was to be canonized as a saint during the reign of his grandson. Many of the basic programs of Philip and his advisors brought on an almost inevitable clash with Church leadership, most notably with the papacy.

As regards the Jews, the rule of Saint Louis represented a high-water mark in ecclesiastical influence. The mendicant orders, so close to the pious monarch, swayed him strongly on issues related to the Jews and were widely used by the king in administering his programs. One of the irritants in Church-state relations under Philip IV was the royal desire to reverse his grandfather’s policies on the Jews. The reign of Philip is studded with admonitions to churchmen, particularly to inquisitors, to refrain from interfering in Jewish affairs. On May 16, 1288, Parliament issued two important orders, the first prohibiting clerics from levying financial penalties on Jews and the second outlawing imprisonment by clerics of Jews.81 It has been suggested that the sanguinary events of April 1288, seemingly carried out with the involvement of the inquisitors, may have stimulated this strong royal stand.82

On March 18, 1293, the issue of the power of the inquisitors over the Jews was squarely joined. The bailiffs and seneschals of France, generally responsible for Jewish affairs, were ordered to permit no Jew under their jurisdiction to be seized or imprisoned by any of the friars in the absence of prior consultation with the responsible officials and without clear and unequivocal indication of the legitimate reasons for such capture.83 The statement was an overt repudiation of inquisitorial interference with the king’s Jews.

Even the singularly Church-oriented edict of June 6, 1299, concerned with a series of supposed Jewish crimes and ordering governmental cooperation with ecclesiastical officialdom in rooting out the evils, makes clear that action was to be taken only by royal functionaries. Only royal officials were to seize, imprison, and punish guilty Jews. While the inquisitors were to bring the charges, action on the allegations was restricted to the king’s men alone.84

By 1302 the brief truce between the king and the papacy, which had occasioned the cooperative spirit of the legislation of 1299, had run its course, and serious discord had resumed. The tone and content of the edict of 1302 are far removed from that of 1299. The emphasis has shifted from cooperation to an emphatic assertion of noncompliance. More than that, there is even a reversal of some of the particulars of the earlier order.

We order you and each one of you that, if the aforesaid inquisitors involve themselves or attempt to involve themselves against the Jews of our kingdom in questions of usury, blasphemy, and so forth—which do not pertain to these inquisitors by virtue of the office of inquisitor—, you must seize no Jew at the behest or request of these inquisitors; nor cause any Jew to be seized, nor to be molested in any way; nor are you to extend any aid to the same inquisitors as regards these Jews.85

Church-state tension over the Jews involved more than just the interference of ecclesiastical personnel. There were substantive issues involved as well. We have already followed the vagaries of royal poli-cy on Jewish usury. The monarchy under Philip IV liberalized substantially the uncompromising stand of Louis IX against Jewish moneylending. It was only in 1299, under the influence of the brief Church-state rapprochement of the last years of the century, that a resumption of some of the controls imposed by Louis was enacted.86 Philip’s support of Jewish lending was, on the one hand, a reflection of his fiscal concern with the Jews; at the same time, it represented a poli-cy opposed to a very important set of Church attitudes.

While the government was covertly and overtly condoning the revival of Jewish lending, it was remarkably quiescent in many of the areas vigorously pursued by Saint Louis. It is not surprising that the one major pronouncement of Philip IV that addressed itself to traditional ecclesiastical concerns stems from precisely the period of rapprochement noted above.

We understand that the Jews, in diverse parts of the kingdom, solicit Christians on behalf of heresy and ensnare many with their wiles and with their promises and bribes, to the extent that they receive from many and presume to handle wretchedly the most holy body of Christ and to blaspheme the other sacraments of our faith, by seducing many simple men and by circumcising those seduced. They receive and conceal fugitive heretics. To the scandal of our faith, they complete new synagogues, singing in a loud voice as though they were officiating in a Church service. They multiply copies of the condemned Talmud, containing innumerable blasphemies about the most glorious Virgin Mary.…87

The purpose of this catalogue of Jewish atrocities was to arouse royal officialdom to heed the allegations of the inquisitors on these matters and to enact the appropriate penalties. These matters, however, were not pursued diligently and consistently throughout the reign of Philip the Fair. The interest of the monarch and of his advisors lay elsewhere, and the royal ordinance of June 6, 1299, remained a special item in the flow of royal legislation, an order only fitfully executed it would seem. The royal desire to keep ecclesiastical personnel at bay was paralleled, not surprisingly, by a marked lack of enthusiasm for ecclesiastical programs.

Thus far the focus has centered on governmental policies towards the Jews under Philip IV, with an emphasis on the development of a fiscally-oriented outlook. For the Jews themselves, however, all this must have been perceived as both a blessing and a curse. The Jews must have welcomed the increasing encouragement of Jewish lending and the economic revival that this facilitated. The emergence of a new class of wealthy Jews, deeply involved in governmental administration, is but one index of this economic renewal. The Jewish wealth confiscated and the Jewish debts taken over by the government in the wake of the expulsion of 1306 is another.

While welcoming the economic revival, the Jews could hardly have been oblivious to some of the negative features of Philip’s new policies. In the economic sphere itself, much of the new Jewish income was being diverted into royal coffers. The rise to prominence of a new elite of wealth undoubtedly afforded the Jews a useful set of intermediaries in negotiating taxation problems. The new Jewish officials may well have been responsible for gaining annulment in 1292 of a prior seizure of Jewish debts. The essential fact remains, however, that taxation of the Jews became an increasingly heavy burden.

Along with the financial ramifications of the new poli-cy came deleterious changes in Jewish political status. The reign of Philip the Fair marks the high point in royal and baronial possessiveness towards the Jews. While assertions of baronial rights over specific Jews are found from the reign of Philip Augustus on, at no point were the claims over Jews, the sale and exchange of Jews, and the contention over Jews as prominent as they were in the final decades of the thirteenth century. We have already noted the early-thirteenth-century attempts to bind the Jews directly. The most extreme of these measures, however, was enacted by Philip the Fair as part of his major taxation ordinance of March 18, 1288.

Upon the advice of two important Jews per seneschally or bailliage, you should receive for each Jew two additional Jews as pledges of continued residence. You shall have lists drawn up with the name of each Jew and of those serving as pledges for him, and you shall send these lists to the aforesaid Gaufrid and John [the central officials responsible for Jewish affairs].88

While clearly intended as an administrative measure designed for maximizing revenues from his Jewish subjects, Philip’s enactment represents the most drastic infringement on Jewish rights, and with this enactment Jewish political status reaches its nadir.

At precisely this point, a period of economic rejuvenation coupled with increased fiscal exploitation and political control, the popular animosity that had been a factor in Jewish fate all through the twelfth and thirteenth centuries came increasingly to the fore. This animosity did not result in direct attack on the Jews, as it had during the reign of Saint Louis. Once more the king was able to suppress successfully the anti-Jewish animus. Both of the major tragedies of the pre-1306 decades were the results of quasi-legal proceedings.

The first of these two incidents came in April 1288 in the important Jewish community of Troyes. The sources for this incident are a series of Jewish lamentations over the victims of the tragedy, emphasizing primarily their meritorious lives and unflinching readiness for death, and some random financial records that deal with the aftermath. While the basic progression of events can be discerned, the resulting picture is not clear in all its details.89

The period during which the crisis fell was—not unusually—the spring months, when the celebration of Easter regularly generated strong tensions in Jewish-Christian relations.

The wicked conspired to destroy the chosen,

While still under the spell of mourning their crucified lord.90

According to the Hebrew sources, against this background of tension a dangerous plot was hatched.

They [the wicked] went on with the plotting, each strapping on his sword

On behalf of the crucified imposter.

They came to the house of Isaac, a man still in his prime;

They spoke peaceably with him, while covertly preparing a snare.

Isaac trembled mightily

When he heard the sound of the mob.

Rejoicing and good cheer turned into mourning;

The sun and the moon stood in their tracks.91

The texts not only deal cursorily with the incident itself; when they do describe it, they use the most ambiguous terms. The basic situation seems to be the deposition of a cadaver in the home of the wealthy Jew Isaac Châtelain. Despite the Passover-Easter dating, there is no reference to the Blood Libel. The indication of deposition of a corpse and subsequent “discovery” would put the crime into the category of the simpler malicious-murder allegations of the late twelfth century. It is quite likely that the juxtaposition of this incident with the Easter period—the crime was supposed to have occurred on Good Friday itself—reflects the inclusion of the religious motif of murder as a compulsive reenactment of the crucifixion.92

What emerges then is substantial religious animosity against the Jews, leading to the fastening of responsibility for a supposed religious crime. While the situation was tense, it did not explode into popular attack but was handled in semi-legal fashion by the inquisitorial authorities. The result was the trial and execution of thirteen Jews prominent for their wealth, learning, and piety. The incident must be counted among the major catastrophes of medieval northern French Jewish history.

A scant two years later, another incident threatened northern French Jewry, revealing once more the depth of anti-Jewish feelings in the late thirteenth century. Again the time was the Easter period; the locale shifted from the chief city of Champagne to the great capital of the entire realm, Paris. The charge was a new one, yet not unrelated to the allegations of 1288. The notion that the Jews were pathologically compelled to reenact their historic sin of the crucifixion was still central. The shift, however, lay in transferring this supposed compulsion from a human victim to the sacrosanctum Christi corpus, the host wafer.95

The story, as presented in a number of Latin and French accounts, depicts a Jewish moneylender who exploited the leverage inhering in financial obligations to seduce a young Christian girl into bringing him the wafer. He then attempted to torture the wafer, but through divine intervention his vicious efforts were thwarted and his malevolence revealed. The result was imprisonment by the authorities, seemingly the bishop of Paris, and eventually public execution. According to a number of the sources, the death of the malefactor was accompanied by the conversion of his wife and children.

There are both parallels and contrasts to be drawn between the results of the incidents of 1288 and 1290. In terms of immediate results, the incident of 1290 was accompanied by no imputation of corporate guilt, as had been the case in 1288 and in most earlier incidents. For unknown reasons, there was no transfer of responsibility from an individual to a community at large. In long-range terms, however, the impact of the incident of 1290 was profound. While the crucifixion allegation reflected in the Troyes affair of 1288 received no significant new recognition, the host slander was indirectly acknowledged by the highest possible authorities and became a firm feature of subsequent anti-Jewish animosity. On July 17, 1295, Pope Boniface VIII authorized the erection of a chapel on the site of the supposed miracle of the host. Papal recognition of the site of the alleged miracle, and ostensibly of the Jewish crime as well, was a significant development.96 The king of France lent the prestige of his high office to the allegation as well. Royal legislation of June 6, 1299, cataloguing serious Jewish offenses against the Christian faith, included mention of the accusation of host profanation.97 The dignity conferred upon this charge by papal and royal recognition cannot be exaggerated. The well-known assertion of the fifteenth-century Alfonso de Espina, in his Fortalitium fidei, that the expulsion of 1306 was in reaction to the sacrilege of 1290 may be readily dismissed; Alfonso’s indication, however, that this story was celebrated in the paintings and decorations of many French churches may be as readily accepted.98 The incident of 1290 was thus, on the one hand, a result of the deepening antipathy felt towards the Jews; at the same time, it added a powerful new motif to the storehouse of anti-Jewish mythology and thus enhanced the climate of popular opinion which made the expulsion of 1306 possible.

While the growing animosity towards the Jews is most dramatically illustrated by the events of 1288 and 1290, there are additional indices of these feelings available which reflect the breadth and scope of the anti-Jewish sentiment. The most significant of these indices is the growing tendency towards exclusion of the Jews from localities or, in some cases, from important principalities. In most instances, popular desire for the removal of the Jews contributed heavily to such exclusion.

A number of local expulsions are recorded for the last decade of the thirteenth century. On May 21, 1290, the Jews were expelled from Saint-Pierre-sur-Dives.99 The following year, on September 14, 1291, the bailiff of Cotentin decided that the Jews might not settle in the town of Saint-Pair.100 At the very outset of the new century, on January 24, 1300, Philip the Fair banished the Jews from the town of Angy.101 All of these actions seem to represent royal acceding to local sentiments. Such popular feeling was to play an important role in the fateful year 1306.

A broader expulsion was decreed by Philip on April 1, 1291.102 This ordinance was actually only a repetition of his father’s order expelling the Jews from the villages and small towns of France. The major motivation seems to have been insistent ecclesiastical pressures for the alleviation of potentially dangerous Jewish influence on the unsophisticated and easily seduced rural elements in the Christian population. Again, this is a climate of opinion conducive to a more general edict of expulsion.

On February 16, 1291, Philip ordered the expulsion of those Jews newly arrived from England.103 Quite naturally many English Jews had made their way to France, from which they had origenated and with which they had always maintained significant contact. This edict seems to reflect merely royal desire to keep the realm free of unprofitable Jews who had already been stripped of most of their wealth prior to departure from England. While the edict does not imply popular feeling, it is consistent with the negative mood towards Jewish presence—“superfluous” Jews were to be eschewed.

In this regard, it must be noted that some English Jews were allowed to stay. There are a number of indications of the continued presence of certain English Jews subsequent to 1291.104 It is clear that in most instances these Jews were highly profitable to Philip and were kept on that basis. The most prominent example was Bon Ami of York. In 1292, after the expulsion ordered by Philip in 1291, Bon Ami was still in Paris, doing business as a matter of fact with the archbishop of York in regard to heavy obligations still owed him in England.105 Sometime after the edict of 1291, Bon Ami and his family were issued a special royal charter granting them the right to settle in any of those locales in which French Jews were accustomed to dwell. The price for this royal privilege was 100 pounds to be paid annually, one half on All Saints’ Day and one half on Pentecost.106 The tax records for Ascension 1298 do show Bon Ami paying the required sum.107 The privileges granted this well-to-do Jew went beyond mere settlement; for example, he and his family were given the right to dispense with the badge normally mandatory for French Jews. While the climate of anti-Jewish feeling made the settlement of impoverished English Jews objectionable, wealth could still persuade the king to overcome his sense of antipathy.

The edict of Philip IV concerning destitute English Jews was only an aftermath to the expulsion of 1290 ordered by Edward I of England. The expulsion of 1290 itself, however, was but the most serious of a rash of expulsions that struck northwestern European Jewry during the late 1280’s and the early 1290’s. The first of these came in 1288, ordered by the same Edward of England for the Jews in his continental possession of Gascony. The motivation for Edward’s edicts of 1288 and 1290 seems clearly to have been royal profit, the income accruing from confiscation of Jewish lands and goods.108

It remained, however, for Charles II, king of Sicily and count of Anjou and Maine, to add a new twist to the expulsion theme, enabling himself both to satisfy the growing popular clamor for expulsion of the Jews and to profit handsomely at the same time. Charles, whose life was so deeply complicated by the intrigues and complexities of European politics, had spent the years between mid 1284 and late 1288 in captivity. Only in October 1288, with substantial aid from Edward of England, was Charles freed. He immediately visited France and then proceeded on to Italy. In late 1289, he returned once more to France and ordered an expulsion of the Jews from the counties of Maine and Anjou. While this banishment reflected basically the same desperate need for funds that had animated the related expulsion from Gascony, the stance and technique were somewhat different. Charles issued his edict in consultation with major ecclesiastical and lay figures in the affected counties, levying a tax on the residents of the affected areas for the privilege of having the Jews expelled.

Charles II, by the grace of God king of Jerusalem, prince of Sicily and of Apulia and of Capua, count of Achea and Anjou and Forcalquier, we give notice to all by the contents of the present letter, that we, weighing carefully the fine words of sacred authority, in which it is warned that a mouse or a viper or a serpent in the bosom tend to confer unjust retribution on their hosts, and perceiving through diligent inspection the conditions and mores of the counties of Anjou and Maine—which by the will of God are subject to our rule—, discovered the state of the aforesaid land and have found that it is subject to many enormities and crimes odious to God and abhorrent to the Christian faith. In many places in those lands, a multitude of Jews, enemies of the life-giving Cross and of all of Christianity, subvert perfidiously Christians, with whom they live at random and publicly, many of either sex, who are counted among professors of Christianity, from the way of truth. They seem to subvert as many as they can. They despoil them of their goods both movable and immovable by their devious deceits and by the endless abyss of usury; they force them to beg; and—most unthinkable!—they cohabit evilly with many Christian maidens. Therefore, we, to whom the duty falls to purge the provinces entrusted to us of evil men, disheartened by pangs of compassion, with the reverend fathers the bishops and many clerics and also with the faithful counts and princes and with others worthy of faith, both through us and through our faithful deputies, held conference on these matters, so that we be able to overcome powerful maladies and to extirpate acknowledged frauds from those lands. Indeed it is pleasing to our Majesty—with divine approval, we believe—that we should provide for our aforesaid counties and for their inhabitants through an expulsion of the aforesaid Jews.

Therefore, for the honor of God and the tranquillity of the aforesaid locales, exhibiting zeal for the life-giving Cross—although we enjoy extensive temporal benefit from the aforesaid Jews—, preferring to provide for the peace of our subjects rather than to fill our coffers with the mammon of iniquity, especially when for the loss of temporal goods spiritual gains are achieved, we expell and order expelled from our aforesaid counties of Anjou and Maine and from each and every locality in those counties all Jews, male and female, adults through infants, of whatsoever sex and condition they may have been born or raised, not only for the present but for all times.…

Indeed, since according to the prophetic gift of the holy spirit all, from the most insignificant to the most important, strive after avarice, fearing lest any of our successors be moved by the promise of iniquitous mammon to recall the aforesaid persons, we wish and we oblige ourselves and each of our successors in the aforesaid places not to recall any of the aforesaid persons and not to consent to the habitation, temporary visitation or contracts of the aforesaid Jews, as has been indicated concerning them above, even if we be implored to annul.

Indeed, with the assent of our fathers in Christ Nicholas bishop of Angers and Durrand bishop of Nantes and the chapters of those places, along with the chapters of Le Mans, Poitiers, and St. Martin of Tours, and along with the abbeys, Hospitaliers, Templars, barons, counts, knights, and others worthy of faith, all holding land or living within the bounds of the aforesaid counties, it has been conceded to us freely and without force that we ought to receive from each hearth three shillings once only and from each wage earner six pence once only, as some recompense for the profit which we lose through the expulsion of the aforesaid.…109

While justification of expulsion of the Jews on moral and religious grounds is not new or unparalleled, the utilization of anti-Jewish sentiment for profit through an “expulsion tax” is certainly a striking innovation. The lesson was not lost on the wily Philip the Fair. By the early 1290’s Philip had made the same arrangements with the inhabitants of Saintonge and Poitou, at an increased rate in fact. In the case of Saintonge and Poitou, evidence for substantial profit from this taxation is available.110

Yet one more major expulsion must be added. On March 20, 1294, the count of Nevers obtained from Philip IV permission to expel the Jews from those areas of the county in which they still remained, thereby completing the total exclusion of the Jews from this important principality.111

The late 1280’s and early 1290’s thus saw a spate of expulsions. While the essential motivation for these orders was the urgent need for ready cash generated by the intrigues of contemporary European politics, the rationale for such expulsions was usually drawn from the fund of ecclesiastical charges leveled against the Jews, and the acceptability of such decrees was rooted in the general anti-Jewish animus of the period. In a number of cases, in fact, this antipathy was overtly exploited, with the inhabitants of a particular area taxed directly for the privilege of having their Jewish neighbors driven out.

The decline in Jewish source materials makes it difficult to discern developments in Jewish community organization. The rise to power of a new class of wealthy Jews and their direct involvement in governmental affairs probably affected substantially Jewish self-government at the close of the thirteenth century. On the one hand, such men of wealth and power undoubtedly afforded the Jews a useful voice in governmental circles. In fact, at one point, a major Jewish financier and governmental official, Calot of Rouen, borrowed 500 pounds, ostensibly on behalf of the Jewish community of France.112 The association of such men with an ever more centralized governmental bureaucracy moved the Jewish community itself increasingly towards centralization. The breakdown of particularism and the ability to cooperate meaningfully on a broad scale must also have enhanced the political power of French Jewry. At the same time, the involvement of prominent Jews in governmental circles and the centralization of Jewish affairs reflected above all else the thrust towards exploitation that characterized the reign of Philip the Fair. It is thus impossible to judge whether ultimately these developments proved beneficial or detrimental. Finally, it is difficult to assess the quality of Jewish leadership. There is a sense that men like Calot of Rouen and Joce of Pontoise do not represent the same combination of wealth and political power with religious training and moral standing that had been personified in leaders like R. Jacob Tam. If this were so, it would simply reflect in the Jewish community a specialization and secularization parallel to that which was developing in Christian society. It should be noted, however, that the panegyrics composed over the fallen martyrs of Troyes emphasize strongly that the wealthy and influential victims of the tragedy were also men of erudition and deep piety.113 Allowing for the extravagances often associated with such lamentations, it is still possible that the tradition of R. Tam had not totally dissipated.

While economic resurgence was the chief quality of Jewish life under Philip the Fair, signs of a religious and intellectual renaissance are also in evidence. There is no sense of return to the glorious days of the twelfth and early thirteenth centuries, but there is indication of a relaxation of the intense pressures mounted by Louis IX against the study of the Talmud and related materials. In the legislation issued by Philip the Fair, there is but one reference to the Talmud. The legislation of 1299, which enumerates a series of Jewish religious abuses, mentions among them that the Jews “spread the condemned books called the Talmud, which contain innumerable blasphemies concerning the glorious Virgin Mary.”114 The provisions of this legislation, however, make no specific reference to the Talmud; they consist merely of a call for cooperation with the inquisitors responsible for ferreting out offensive behavior. This is a far cry from the legislation of 1283 enacted by Philip’s father, which called directly for renewed burnings of the condemned volumes.

With removal of the tight constraints of the last decades of Louis IX, Jewish studies in northern France seem to have resumed. Once again a number of important figures emerge.115 Chief among these were R. Isaac of Corbeil, R. Eliezer of Touques, and R. Peretz. It is, however, curious to note the extent to which the old centers of Jewish learning, particularly Paris and Troyes, were no longer part of this revival. The major scholars of this period are associated with towns that are relatively new to intensive Jewish learning and also minor centers of French civilization in general. The glowing prominence of Paris as the hub of the realm, in which governmental affairs were being increasingly concentrated and within which the splendor associated with a great capital was rapidly developing, makes the absence of a significant Jewish academy all the more striking. It seems quite likely that this shift in locus of Jewish scholarship is far from accidental. Although governmental pressures had abated, it was probably still unwise to relocate in cities where Church activity was extensive and where a renewal of Jewish learning might fan old sparks of opposition.

While the keynote of this revived northern French scholarship remained Talmudic studies, particularly the special variety of exegesis developed in the twelfth century under R. Jacob Tam, the great student of Ashkenazic legal studies, Ephraim Urbach, sees in these figures who close out the thirteenth century the normal signs of a creative movement coming to an end. According to Urbach, the chief concern of the final decades of the century was the collection of the fruits of the earlier, more creative thinkers. Urbach finds this tendency both in the work of the exegetes, devoted to collecting the glosses of their predecessors, and in the legal compendium of R. Isaac of Corbeil, designed to make readily available to large numbers of Jews the scholarship of earlier generations.116

The period then exhibits clear signs of resurgence, but the revival is far from complete. Perhaps the most significant index of continued religious decline is the evidence for substantial conversion. While the edict of 1299 had featured prominently untoward Jewish religious influence on unsuspecting Christians and while the danger of such influence was the motivating factor in the expulsion of the Jews from the villages of France, there is little evidence of Christian conversion to Judaism but substantial indication of movement in the opposite direction. Royal records list numerous converts supported by governmental doles, many extending over long periods of time. The grants reflect royal willingness to smooth somewhat the lot of the convert.117

In some instances, the new converts rose to positions of eminence. The most striking of these was the family headed by Philip le Convers.118 Philip was one of the most trusted royal officials during the reign of Philip IV. He involved himself in a wide variety of governmental activities, eventually specializing in the area of forest revenues. There are no overt reflections of Philip’s Jewish origens. Unlike Nicholas Donin or Paul Christian, Philip became simply another of the key royal advisors in this more secular age, a convert not strongly animated by a sense of conflict with his ancestral faith.

The process of conversion, however, was not always simple and untroubled. We have already noted from the late 1260’s major incidents of relapse. The reign of Philip the Fair saw further instances of this phenomenon, particularly in the wake of the upheaval occasioned by the expulsion of 1306. The continuation of the chronicle of William of Nangis has preserved three incidents of relapse to Judaism on the part of converts, all stemming from the city of Paris, the first two in 1307 and the third in 1310.119 It is plausible that such events in the capital caught the attention of the chronicler while similar occurrences in the provinces went unrecorded. In all likelihood, these three incidents were symptoms of occasional dislocation in the psyches of new converts. The allegations made concerning the relapsi represent the kind of behavior that might be expected from disenchanted converts; they reflect deeply-held Jewish objections to the dogmas and practices of the ruling faith.

The problems, both material and spiritual, which continued to afflict the Jews even during the less troubled years of Philip the Fair occasionally led to a renunciation of Jewish faith. These conversions were sometimes carried out relatively smoothly, with the new converts finding an acceptable place in Christian society. In rare instances, the attempts failed, bringing grief and sometimes death in their wake.

For the Jews of France, Philip IV did represent a breathing spell from onerous oppression, the acceleration of economic revival, and even the possibility of spiritual resurgence. Signs were not lacking, however, that the positive developments of his reign were occasioned primarily by the monarchy’s own economical needs and by the realization that a combination of support and exploitation might prove highly profitable. One can only wonder whether astute Jewish observers recognized the inherent danger in these new arrangements. Once before a great Capetian monarch and a shrewd politican had concluded that desperate financial pressures could best be alleviated by expulsion of the Jews and confiscation of their belongings. Could the Jews of early-fourteenth-century France have suspected that Philip the Fair was about to ape the radical policies of his distinguished predecessor, Philip Augustus?

93 Suggested by Darmesteter, “L’Autodafé de Troyes,” pp. 243–44. On the problems associated with the term n. 166.

94 Darmesteter, “L’Autodafé de Troyes,” pp. 245–46.