The king’s influence was to some extent successful in restraining the popular hatred of the Jews. But when he died, A.D. 1390, and was succeeded by his son, Henry III., a lad eleven years old, there was another popular outbreak. Ferdinand Martinez, Archdeacon of Ecija, had, during the reign of John, been continually in the habit of reviling the Jews, and stirring up the populace to attack them. The late king had discountenanced his proceedings; but he was no sooner removed than Martinez threw aside all restraint, and by his harangues roused the smouldering hatred towards the Jews, which had long possessed the people, into a fierce and destructive flame. The Jews’ quarter was attacked. Pillage, murder, violation, followed; four thousand were slaughtered, the archdeacon heading the mob, and urging them on to still greater atrocities. No steps were taken to punish the perpetrators of this violence. The contagion soon spread to other cities. In Cordova, in Valencia, in Burgos, in Toledo, in Barcelona, in Pampeluna, and other towns of Aragon and Navarre, there were similar massacres. As many as two hundred thousand Jews are said to have been forced to receive baptism. Such as escaped with their lives were stripped of all their possessions, and their houses plundered and burned. King Henry III., who, like many other sovereigns, was largely dependent on the Jews for the maintenance of his revenues, was reduced to great straits to support his household expenses. An anecdote is related of him which, if true, curiously illustrates the history of those times. He is said to have found his exchequer so low one day as to be obliged to pawn his cloak to pay for his supper. He was informed that in the palace of the archbishop an entertainment was in progress, at which every delicacy was provided in profuse abundance. He repaired thither in disguise, and learned not only that the wealth of the revellers had been truly reported, but that it had been amassed by fraud and peculation. The next day he sent for the grandees of the court, and among them the archbishop, and inquired of him, ‘How many kings have you known in Spain?’ The archbishop answered, ‘Three—your grandfather, your father, and yourself.’ ‘Nay,’ rejoined Henry; ‘young as I am, I can remember at least twenty, though there ought to have been only one. But it is time that I put my rivals down, and reign alone.’ At the same moment a band of soldiers, accompanied by an executioner, and carrying ropes and gibbets, entered the apartment. The grandees threw themselves at his feet, and entreated his mercy. He spared their lives, but required a strict account of their management of his affairs, obliging them to refund large sums which they had embezzled.