=3. Accession of Richard.=――In 1189, Richard the Lion-hearted, the hero of so many romantic stories, ascended the English throne. The Jews, who had been growing more and more unpopular all through the long reign of Henry II., thought that the accession of this, the most hopeful of his sons, might bring about a favourable change in their position. So to the coronation ceremony there came a little body of Jews, selected by their co-religionists as representatives, from every town in England where Jews had settled. The members of this deputation were all of the richest and most respected class. They were grandly dressed, and were the bearers of rich gifts, which were to be presented to the king in the name, and with the loyal congratulations, of the whole Jewish community in England. They never got the chance of making their contemplated pretty speeches, nor of offering their handsome propitiatory presents. Possibly the sight of so much wealth, brought as a free-will offering, suggested the idea of plunder. If Jews could give so generously, unasked, what might they not give with a little pressure? In this way reasoned the populace, and the result was that the deputation never reached the palace. It was pitilessly set upon and robbed, and one of the number, a Jew from York, named Benedict, was so badly hurt in the course of the rioting, that he reached home only to die of his wounds. In his fright, this Benedict had even submitted to be baptized, but the poor man’s cowardice availed to save neither his life nor his fortune. Perhaps his ‘conversion’ became the means of attracting more attention to him and his neighbours, for although the London outrage was rivalled in various parts of the kingdom, it was at York, on this occasion, that the Jews suffered most of all. History is said to repeat itself, and certainly the story of the fortress of Masada, in 72,[26] has a grim counterpart in that of the castle of York a thousand years later. In that terrible coronation month, the Jews of York had shut up their houses, and tremblingly taken refuge in the castle. The mob surrounded the walls, and resistance became hopeless. Then the Jews of York, in wild fear of the English, like the Jews of Masada in wild fear of the Romans, set fire to the unsheltering walls of the fortress, and headed by their Rabbi, and by an eloquent co-religionist named Joachin, killed first their wives and children, and then themselves. Thus the English in the eleventh century, like the Romans in the first, conquered a citadel, to find it garrisoned by corpses. Some say 500, and some say 1,500 Jews were massacred in York alone, in that year 1189. A commission of inquiry was subsequently held, and some punishments were inflicted on the ringleaders. But not on account of the massacres. In the course of the sacking of the Jews’ houses, various deeds and titles to property, of which the value had not been recognisable at a glance, had been burnt or destroyed.