But the condition of the Jews grew no better, but rather worse, as the century advanced. The calumny—whether it was the revival of an ancient accusation against the Jews, or one newly invented at this period—of crucifying boys at their Passover, in mockery of the Saviour’s passion, was widely diffused and credited. It was reported that, about A.D. 1180, during the youth of Philip Augustus, they had in this manner murdered one Richard, a youth belonging to Pontoise; and, in confirmation of the truth of the story, the body, when it was conveyed to Paris, worked many miracles. Philip had no sooner ascended his throne than he put forth an edict, A.D. 1182, whereby all debts due to Jews were annulled, and all pledges held by them were to be restored to the original owners. Not satisfied with this display of somewhat cheap generosity, he made a second proclamation, confiscating all their property which was not removable, and commanding them to sell everything else belonging to them, and depart from his dominions. In vain they appealed for mercy. King and nobles and bishops alike closed their ears. The twofold offence of holding heretical opinions and mortgages on estates was not to be forgiven. It will readily be credited that at the enforced sale of their goods the prices bidden were of the lowest. The unhappy Jews were compelled to depart, amid the execrations of the populace, from the homes in which their whole lives had been passed, carrying with them little but their wives and children. It was not enough that they had been, by the most high-handed injustice, stripped of their possessions; they were not to be allowed to remain in the land where the wrong had been done, and so remind the doers of their crime! It will surprise no one to be told that their removal did not increase the wealth or relieve the public burdens of the nation. It was found that the expulsion of the Jews was, as Fouché said of the murder of the Duke d’Enghien, ‘more than a crime, for it was a blunder.’ Within twenty years Philip found it necessary to issue a new edict, permitting their return. But it _does_ occasion our wonder to hear that the Jews consented to the step. It speaks volumes for the depth of the misery to which they had been reduced, that they could be prevailed on to trust themselves again to the justice and mercy of a king who had so flagrantly proved his disregard of both.[104] Not long after their return, we are told that they held an assembly by permission of the Queen’s mother, at a castle on the Seine. Here the old charge of scourging, crucifying, and crowning with thorns a youth whom they had seized was once more alleged against them. Philip repaired in person to the spot, where he condemned eighty of the accused to be burned alive.[105]