Jaufre said he thought it had occured nigh on twenty years ago, he gave a dismissive shrug. “I was only about thirteen then, know nothing of this.”
“But I do,” Eleanor interjected. “I remember the incident well, and the guilt lay with Count Thibault, not the unhappy Jews. Thibault is the uncle of your cousin Henri of Champagne,” she added for Richenza’s sake, knowing the girl was not yet familiar with the bloodlines of the French nobility. “I hear he has gone to the Holy Land to expiate his sins, as well he should, for he has the blood of innocents upon his hands.”
“I do not understand, Madame,” Jaufre objected, feeling compelled to continue his half-hearted defense of the French king. “How can the count be responsible for a crime committed by Jews?”
“There was no crime, Jaufre. The charge was particularly outrageous, for there was no body, either, nor even any reports of a missing child. A servingman claimed he saw a Jewish peddler throw a child’s body into the River Loire, and the story grew from there, until it was being said the boy had been crucified. Mind you, there was no evidence whatsoever to back up this charge, but Thibault ordered the arrest of all the Jews in Blois, some forty souls. Thirty-one men and women were burned at the stake, the others imprisoned, and their children forced to undergo baptism.”
Richard spoke for them all when he asked, “Why? From what you’ve just told us, Maman, Thibault could not possibly have believed the story. So why did he do it?”
“For the meanest, most unworthy of reasons, Richard—to quell a scandal. You see, Thibault had been imprudent enough to take a local Jewess as his concubine. He was careless, too, and it eventually became known. When it did, he found himself facing the wrath of the Church, the outrage of his fellow Christians, and the fury of his wife—my daughter Alix, from my marriage to the French king,” she explained in another aside to Richenza. “So when this charge was made, Thibault seized upon it to prove that he was no longer ensorcelled by his Jewess mistress, sacrificing those thirty-one men and women to regain the goodwill of his subjects and to appease the bishops of Blois.”
Richenza had a vivid imagination and could envision all too well the horror the Jews had endured, for surely death by fire was the worst of fates. She shivered and Jaufre slid his arm around her waist, angry with Richard and Eleanor for telling his pregnant wife stories sure to disturb her sleep that night. After a somber silence, Richenza thought to ask about the rest of the Jews, those who’d been imprisoned rather than sent to the stake.
“The other French Jews were horrified at what had befallen their brethren in Blois. They were understandably terrified, too, that the anger against Jews would spread to their cities, and they appealed to the French king. Louis too often showed as much backbone as a hempen rope, but he was always steadfast in his protection of the French Jews, never believing those stories of ritual murder. He at once issued a charter to be published throughout his domains, warning his subjects that the Jews were not to be molested or threatened, and they were not. The Jews also turned to Thibault’s brother, the Count of Champagne, for aid. He had already dismissed a similar accusation against the Jews in Epernay, and like Louis, he took measures to see to their safety. Meanwhile, the Jews sought help from the third brother, the Bishop of Sens, and through his mediation, Thibault agreed to release the imprisoned Jews and to return the children who’d been forcibly baptized. Harry heard that Thibault had extorted a hundred pounds from the Jews for that concession, and I cannot say it would surprise me if so. And no,” Eleanor said, anticipating their next questions, “I do not know the fate of his Jewess once she was freed from prison. Nor do I know how Thibault managed to placate his wife.”
Now it was Eleanor’s turn to fall silent, thinking of Alix, the daughter she’d not seen in nigh on forty years, for once their marriage had ended, Louis had banished her from their daughters’ lives, had done all he could to blacken her memory. At least Harry had not entirely forbidden her to see their children during her long confinement, and she had to admit he had far more reason than Louis for doing