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Welcome to Nobleblood, a production of iHeartRadio and Grim and Mild from Erin Menke. Listener discretion advised. A report from early in the reign of King Edward I recounts a shocking crime that happened in England. Quote Licoricea the Jewess and Alice of Bicton, her servant, were found killed in the house of the same Licoricea, each having a blow to the chest made by a knife to the heart. End quote Licoricea the Jewess, better known as Licoricea of Winchester, was one of the most powerful financial figures in England during her lifetime, having achieved great success as a money lender. History has seen a number of notable female lenders with great names like Belast of Bristol and Cometissa of Cambridge, but none quite matched the prominence or success of Licoricea. Her clients ranged from King Henry iii, who frequently received her at court, to lesser nobles, to even local women. To call her business an empire for its time would not be an overstatement. Influence and power, however, came with a price. There were multiple stays in the Tower of London, several legal battles, a dangerous rise in antisemitism, and ultimately, finally, a tragic, bloody end. To this day, Licoricea's death remains an unsolved mystery, but through the record, we can still put together the pieces of her life of intrigue. I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is Noble Blood. Before we can talk about Licoricea, let's talk a bit more generally about the history of Jews in England. Our earliest record of Jewish people arriving on English soil dates back to 1066, when they were brought at the behest of William I or William the Conqueror. Following his Norman Conquest, William needed to borrow large sums of money in order to secure his position as king in England, and so he turned to Jewish merchants from Rouen in his homeland of Normandy. Thus, England's first Jewish community settled in London, which became the country's main financial center. To assist with William's kingdom building. Because of their usefulness, they maintained a unique legal status where they were both protected and owned by the Crown. Fast forwarding a few centuries, the 1253 Statute of Jewry affirmed that status that had been in place, explicitly stating all Jews, wheresoever they may be in the realm, are of right under the tutelage and protection of the King. Nor is it lawful for any of them to subject themselves to any wealthy person without the King's license. Jews and all their effects are the King's property, and if anyone withhold their money from him, let the king recover it as his own. I think it's also worth taking a bigger step back to talk about the history of Jews in finance. In medieval and Renaissance Europe, the Christian church had an increasingly harsh stance against usury, or loaning money at interest. So Jewish people filled that gap and became moneylenders across European countries, including England. Jews were permitted to engage in finance financial transactions with Christians, but they were barred from many other types of business arrangements with them. On top of those restrictions, European Jews were typically not allowed to own farmland, work for the government, or join artisan guilds. So money lending was often their best or only option. As usury was considered sinful by the Catholic Church, Jews gained the reputation of being greedy, dishonest, and all of the other adjectives that come to mind when you consider antisemitic stereotypes that persist to this day. That archetype is most famously embodied by Shylock, the villainous Jewish moneylender in Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, who is ultimately forced into conversion by the play's protagonist as atonement for his crimes. For reference, Jews were actually expelled from England back in 1290, so there actually would have been no Jews living openly in England during Shakespeare's lifetime. In the 13th century, licorice time, Jewish communities had expanded outside of London to other urban areas, including but not limited to Bristol, Canterbury, Oxford, and of course, Winchester.
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To get an idea of the size.
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Of these communities, the Jewish population of England as a whole was estimated to be about 5000 at its peak in 1200, and it generally declined for years until the expulsion I mentioned in 1290, when it would have been about 2000. Jewish people typically lived closely to one another in these communities, in quarters quite literally called the Jewry. Some of these cities, including Winchester, still feature a Jewery street. Christians were legally prevented from living in Jewish homes as servants or as nurses, although the maid killed alongside Lucrecia, Alice actually was a Christian woman. But even so, that law didn't mean there was no community between cultures. As you might imagine, there were periods of relative harmony and also periods of violent discord. When it comes to the latter types of periods, it's purported that in Winchester, a series of blood libel claims. Blood libel being the notably false accusation that Jewish people murder Christians and especially Christian children to use their blood in religious rituals in the 1230s led to the lynching of the local synagogue head. In that same decade, in that same place, Licoricea was likely already one of the wealthiest financiers in the city. With all of that context, let's now talk about the woman herself. Unfortunately, we know almost nothing about Licorice early life. In its place, we have the fun tidbit about the likely origin of her name. It was fashionable in the 1200s for both Jewish and Christian women to be given exotic names such as Floria, Sophronia or Comtissa. While the name Licoricea follows suit, it appears that it wasn't a very popular choice, which luckily contributes to her life and career showing up more clearly in records. Speaking of records, the first documentation of Licoricea's life places her in Winchester in 1234, where she is mentioned twice in the close roles, the administrative records of the Royal Chancery. In one such record, we learn that the King has relieved a man of the interest of £10 which Peytavin and Licoricea Jews of Winchester lent him. The second record is a letter addressed to the Jewish Justices, this time ordering a man to repay the money he owes to two lenders. The latter half of this record reads, of the 10 marks he owes Licoricea, who was the wife of Abraham of Kent, he must repay the said licoricea 2 marks per annum at the previously stated intervals. Instruct the justices and the assigned custodian of the Jews that this should be recorded in the rolls and made to happen. There are a few things we can unpack from those very brief records. First, we see the original appearance of Licorice Toponym of Winchester. For Christians, toponyms typically identified where they originated or where they were currently living. But for Jews, they most likely indicated where their main place of business was. We also learn that Licoricea was already an established and successful businesswoman at this point, as 10 pounds was not an insignificant sum. The second letter also notably tells us that Licoricea was the wife of Abraham of Kent. Perhaps contrary to popular belief, divorces actually were possible at this time. A little bit more on that later. But the specific phrasing here denotes that Licoricea was a widow. We don't know when the couple married or when Abraham died. There are no official records of birth, death or marriage in the 13th century century here, but we know they had three sons and a daughter together named Benedict, Cockerell, Lombard and Belea. Records regarding Abraham are scarce, but we find him in Winchester in 1225 when he and five other men were accused of murdering a Christian child. It's unclear what the outcome of the trial was. The original record finds Abraham and another man guilty, but this is contradicted when that other man appears alive and well on record in later years. In the 17th century, the historian William Prynne states that it was not six Jews on trial, but four, and that they were all acquitted. Whether Abraham was found innocent or he was found guilty and his sentence was reversed, or he was found guilty and died by the noose. The 1225 trial is our last record of his activity, and we know because they're framing Licoricea as a widow that he must have died sometime before 1234. Knowing more about Abraham could have helped us learn more about Licoricea, but we're able to make inferences about her life through more generalized knowledge. Jewish women in money lending traditionally learned the trade from their family or from their husband, and would often start out helping in the family business before potentially branching out on their own. A rabbinical writer from the 11th century remarked that it was common for men to appoint their wives as masters over their possessions. But there are also records of unmarried daughters who went into business with their mothers. Within the Jewry, business was often conducted through a family consortia typically headed by a matriarch. The local consortia would have presented an opportunity for individual women to get involved in moneylending, as those consortia were known to have accepted extended family as well as outsiders as members. In her city. When Licoricea was coming into her own, the local matriarch was was an older woman named Shara of Winchester. While not related, Licoricea did begin to do business with shara's family in 1236. Record of her lending to local minor gentry shows her partnering with Schehera's son Elias and his widowed sister in law Balea. After the death of Belia's husband. Balea quickly became a successful lender in her own right, and we know she had a close working and likely personal relationship with Licoricea, who appears to have named her daughter after her likely friend. Did Licoricea learn her trade from her Parents, whoever they might have been. Or did she take over her husband's dealings after his death like her friend Belia did? The former seems more likely, but we're left to speculate. Either way. We can see a number of parallels in the lives and careers of Licoricea and Belia. Through the end of the decade. They both continued to successfully grow their businesses in Winchester to the point that by 1239, Belea was paying the same tallage or taxation as the prodigiously successful Licoricea. But the beginning of the next decade would bring major changes for both of them. In early 1240, Belia remarried and moved with her new husband to Bedford, where a newly permitted jewelry was being established. Without Licoricea as her competition, Belia became the most prominent lender in her new city. We don't know how much the two women were able to keep in touch, but we know their respect. Prospective sons often went into business together in later years, which I find adorable. As for Licoricea, she remained in Winchester, where she too remarried. You can imagine that as a wealthy widow, Licoricea must have had her fair share of admirers and suitors. And as you might expect, the man she ultimately chose to settle down with for the second time. Time wasn't just any old schmuck. He was David of Oxford, one of the six wealthiest Jews in England. There is actually a surprising amount of documentation and research on David's life, but to sum it up, for our purposes, he came from Lincoln, but moved to Oxford at the beginning of the reign of Henry iii. Likely to serve the growing university population there, he began to accumulate local property, but his businesses were so far reaching, he paid taxes in several cities, and his clients typically belonged to the highest echelons of English society. To give an idea of his wealth, David personally contributed nearly half of Oxford's total tallage that was collected to finance the marriage of the king's sister Joan to King Alexander of Scotland. We can't say for sure whether his marriage to Licracia was a love match or a business deal. But no matter the couple's motivation, there was an obstacle they had to overcome before they tied the knot. David's wife. That's right. David was very much married when he courted Licoricea, and his wife Muriel appears to have been very against the dissolution of her marriage. Despite Muriel's wishes, David issued her a bill of divorce. And things got marriage story levels of messy. The question of whether or not the divorce would be granted was decided by The Beth Din, or rabbinical court. The general stance from the religious authority at the time was that it was improper, proper for a man to divorce his wife without her assent. And the Beth Din followed this philosophy when they favored Muriel in their ruling. What was David to do but call in a favor to help? An ordinance from August 1242 reads the king, two masters, Moses of London, Aaron of Canterbury and Jacob of Oxford. Jews, greeting. We forbid you from henceforth holding any plea concerning David of Oxford and Muriel, who was the wife of the same. You are not to distrain him under any circumstances either to take or retain her or any other woman as his wife. Know for a certainty that if you do otherwise, you will incur grave punishment. Muriel may have had the people on her side, but David had the actual King of England. The divorce went through that August, and we can assume Licarcia and David tied the knot as soon as the following month. After all that, the marriage was ultimately fated to be short. David died in early 1244. His passing left Licoricea a widow yet again, this time caring for the couple's infant son, asher, born in 1243. Licoricea's most immediate problem after her husband's death, Imprisonment in the Tower of London. Historically, this would have been done as a safeguarding measure on occasions when the Crown was expecting to receive a large sum. Legally, all of a Jewish person's property was entitled to the King upon the person's death, though customarily, the King only took one third. Very generous. So Licoricea's imprisonment in this case would have been to prevent her from trying to run off with the money or possessions that the King technically was owed. Of course, not every wealthy widow was imprisoned. So there's reason, believe, the Crown saw Licoricea as a particular threat. Or maybe there was something of David's the Crown particularly wanted. Licoricea remained in the Tower for months while, quote, six of the richer and discreeter Jews of England, willing or niling, were officially ordered to oversee her business interests and inheritance. By September 1244, the estate was finally settled and it was determined that the King was owed 5,000 marks. By some miracle, or more accurately, by her own negotiation skills, it appears Licoricea was able to maintain control over all of her husband's chattels and bonds, which normally would have been seized by the King as part of the deceased's estate. Released from the Tower, Licoricea was now the wealthiest Jewish woman in the country. She returned to Winchester to care for her infant Asher, her elder sons and her daughter David of Oxford, had been involved in the King's personal financial activities and now Licoricea took on those responsibilities. Whenever Henry was in Winchester or London, Licoricea could be found at court. Among the courtiers she maintained business with were the King's brother in law and the King's cousin. Outside of court life, the Jewish community began to see Licoricea as a representative and they would bring her their concerns, sometimes asking for her to advocate to the King himself. On top of Licoricea's originally successful businesses, she was now also in control of David's enterprises. So she managed the workload of two careers on her own. But eventually she brought her older son Cockerel into the fold as her main agent, starting in 1248. That same year, one of Licoricea's clients, Sir Thomas de Charlecote, died. He was found drowned in a lake on his own estate and it was alleged that he had been murdered by a group of servants. But the case was never actually investigated. What matters here is that two years earlier, Sir Thomas had renegotiated the terms of a loan he had originally made with David of Oxford. The term of the loan was six years and the total was to be paid by the estate in the event that he died before that time, which we know he did. In that situation, the creditor was legally entitled to take possession of the pledge. But a Jewish person in England was unable to permanently own the land. They could only possess it for a year and a half before selling it to a Christian or restoring it to the heir. That year and a half period passed after Sir Thomas death and Licoricea was still in possession of the land. The King himself had given her approval to do so, using her unique status as a Jew to bypass the feudal laws of his own country. In 1250, King Henry officially granted Licoricea an extension. But by 1252, Thomas heir took Licoricea to Queen court. She defended herself in trial, aggressively advocating for her interests and attacking her accusers. The court ultimately ruled in favor of the heir and ordered Licoricea to pay rent for the time she had occupied the estate. This infuriated the King who took the case to be retried in his own court on the ground that Jews were supposed to be answerable only to his personal jurisdiction. Licoricea was once again placed in the Tower of London for the duration of the retrial, while her son Cockerell continued to collect profits from the Estate King Henry hand selected five judges to try the case, headed by his own brother, the Earl of Cornwall. In a shocking, downright Cain and Abel esque twist, the judges once again ruled, ruled in favor of the heir and the Earl prevented his brother from overturning their decision. Trying to save some face, Henry preempted the sentencing by ordering Licoricea to pay half a silver mark, a relatively paltry sum. The rest of the 1250s are a gap in our knowledge of Licorice as life, as records from 1253 to 1260 were destroyed during a period of civil unrest, a period that included a revolt against Henry in 1258 that would lead to the Second Barons War. Civil war was dangerous for the Jews, who were seen as collectively royalist due to their financial ties to the Crown. The flames of antisemitism were stoked by the leader of the barons forces, Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, who played into the public's fears of violence against Christians and their resentment about debts. Truly a tale as old as time. While this rise in antisemitism did have a body count, Licoricea and her family seemed to have remained safe when they started appearing again in records in 12, her son Benedict had already made a name for himself as a successful and respected businessman, as would Licoricea's youngest son, Asher, more commonly referred to by his nickname, Sweet man. In the 1270s, Benedict, Cockrell and Asher all officially conducted business as sons of Licorice. Records about Licoricea herself during this time are scarce, but a 1276 order calls for the sheriffs of Wiltshire, Norfolk, Warwick, Hampshire, Surrey, Oxford and Bedford to, quote, produce the debts of Licoricea a fortnight after St. John the Baptist. So she was still working and her business was far reaching. That brings us to where we started with Licorice. Tragic end. On a spring day in 1277, Licoricea's daughter Belia found her mother and the family's maid Alice, dead by stab wounds. The scene was found in disarray, with locks broken off coffers and strong boxes and a collection of goods missing. She was Jewish, she was rich and she was a woman, Licoricea biographer Rebecca Abrams told the Religion News Service. All three might have led to her death. We know Licoricea was litigious and made her fair share of enemies. Without evidence, however, we can only make assumptions. It's likely that her murder was vengeance, but it's just as likely that it was a robbery gone wrong. News of Licoricea's murder spread across the country and beyond, even reaching Germany, where it was published in a Jewish chronicle. Local speculation valued the goods in her home at the time of the break in at 10,000 pounds, but that was certainly an exaggeration. Three men were initially named as suspects, but they were soon acquitted and blame instead turned to a poor saddler who had conveniently fled prior to the accusation. The inquiry found the man guilty and outlawed him, which didn't really matter as he was already gone. Cockrell and Asher didn't accept that verdict and unsuccessfully attempted to reopen their mother's.
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Murder case a year later.
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Following Licoricea's death, her sons continued to build their businesses, but tensions were rapidly building as the country ultimately headed towards the 1290 Edict of Expulsion. When King Edward I rose to power after his father's death in 1272, Jewish people lost many of the protections, no matter how transactional they were, that had been in place under Henry's rule. Edward increasingly demanded more money from lenders, going so far as to build a prison for those he considered too slow in their payments. These increasing demands led to the rise of coin clipping, illegally shaving metal from gold and silver coins. An estimated 680 Jews were imprisoned on coin clipping in London alone, and an estimated 10 times more Christians were arrested. In general, the Tower of London could not keep up with the demand due to the ongoing renovations, ironically paid in part by Jewish taxation. Despite being named Keeper of the Queen's Gold only a few years prior, Benedict of Winchester, Licorice's son, was found guilty of coin clipping and hanged in London sometime between 1278 and 1279. He was one of an estimated 279 Jews executed. Asher managed to avoid capital punishment, and he continued doing business under increasing restrictions. But of course, he and the rest of Licorice children and grandchildren were expelled from the country with his fellow Jews in 1290. There is no record of what happened to them afterward. In August 2018, more than 700 years after the expulsion, permission was granted to erect a statue of Licoricea on Jewry street in Winchester. The project was spearheaded by the Licoricea of Winchester Appeal, which fundraised for five years to build the monument which they believed would inspire women, promote tolerance and shine a light on an overlooked chapter in English history. King Charles, then the Prince of Wales, unveiled the statue in a ceremony in March of 2022. Sculpted by the artist Ian Rank Broadley, who's best known for his statue of Diana, Princess of Wales, at Kensington Palace. The monument shows Licoricea holding a young Asher's hand, appearing to walk down the street where her house and the city's 13th century synagogue once stood. On the plinth of the statue are words from the book of Leviticus, love thy neighbor as thyself, engraved in both English and Hebrew. That's the story of Licoricea of Winchester, but keep listening after a brief sponsor break to hear a little bit more about another cameo in the Tower of London during this time. I live in Los Angeles, but I absolutely love fall. Here is a very incomplete list of things that I love as fall comes around Going to a pumpkin patch way too sweet lattes and slipping into a cozy sweater from Quince. Quince is known for their Mongolian cashmere sweaters from $50. And it's not just that all Quince products are priced 50 to 80% less than similar brands. That includes beautiful leather jackets, cotton cardigans, soft denim and so much more because they partner directly with top factories and cut out the cost of the middleman which passes the savings on to us. I have a Quince V neck that's like absolutely perfect every time I get on a plane. It's like my go to Travel sweater because it's thin but not too thin and warm but doesn't make me sweaty. So I am all in on Quince. Get cozy in Quince's high quality wardrobe essentials. Go to quince.comnoble for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. That's Q U I N C E.comnoble to get free shipping and 365 day returns.
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If you thought two stays in the Tower of London was one too many, you'll be surprised to hear that Licoricea was actually imprisoned a third time. In 1259. She was accused of stealing a ring from, of all people, her friend Belia Licorice Neighbor Iveta accused her of the theft and she was arrested and taken to the Tower to await investigation. A few months later, it was uncovered that, surprise, surprise, the thief was none other than Iveta herself, and Licoricea was released. That's all the information we have about that incident, but would you believe me.
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If I told you there Was actually.
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A fourth stay for Licoricea in the Tower of London in 1260? We know even less about this arrest, but it likely involved an overdue payment or an investigation into her business. It appears to have been another brief sojourn, and for Licoricea, business continued quite literally, as usual. Noble Blood is a production of iHeartRadio and Grim and Mild from Aaron Manke. Nobleblood is hosted by me, Dana Schwartz, with additional writing and research by Hannah Johnston, Hannah Zwick, Courtney Sender, Amy Height and Julia Milani. The show is edited and produced by Jesse Funk with supervising producer Reema Il Kayali and executive producers Aaron Menke, Trevor Young and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the.
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Noble Blood: The Murder of Licoricea of Winchester
Host and Production Noble Blood is a captivating podcast produced by iHeartRadio and Grim & Mild, hosted by Dana Schwartz. In the episode titled "The Murder of Licoricea of Winchester," released on November 5, 2024, Schwartz delves into the enigmatic life and tragic death of one of medieval England’s most influential Jewish financiers.
The episode opens with a dramatic recounting of the unsolved murder of Licoricea of Winchester and her servant Alice, setting the stage for a deep exploration of her life and the turbulent times she lived in.
B (Dana Schwartz) [00:42]: “Licoricea the Jewess, better known as Licoricea of Winchester, was one of the most powerful financial figures in England during her lifetime...”
Schwartz provides an extensive background on the Jewish community in England, tracing their arrival in 1066 with William the Conqueror and their pivotal role in finance due to restrictions placed on other professions.
B [01:30]: “The 1253 Statute of Jewry affirmed that status that had been in place, explicitly stating all Jews... are of right under the tutelage and protection of the King.”
Licoricea emerges as a formidable moneylender whose clientele included King Henry III and various nobles. Schwartz highlights her significant influence and the challenges she faced, including antisemitism and legal battles.
B [03:15]: “To call her business an empire for its time would not be an overstatement.”
Delving into Licoricea’s personal life, Schwartz discusses her first marriage to Abraham of Kent, his mysterious trial in 1225, and the lack of records surrounding his fate. Licoricea’s remarriage to David of Oxford is explored in detail, including the contentious divorce from David’s first wife, Muriel.
B [10:45]: “What was David to do but call in a favor to help?”
The narrative details Licoricea’s multiple incarcerations in the Tower of London, primarily due to her financial dealings and the Crown’s intricate relationship with Jewish moneylenders.
B [17:50]: “Licoricea remained in the Tower for months while... six of the richer and discreet Jews of England... were officially ordered to oversee her business interests and inheritance.”
Despite the setbacks, Licoricea continued to expand her business empire, incorporating her sons into the operation and maintaining strong ties with the royal court. Schwartz emphasizes her negotiation prowess and her role as a community leader.
B [21:30]: “She was now the wealthiest Jewish woman in the country.”
The heart of the episode revolves around the mysterious murder of Licoricea and Alice. Schwartz examines the possible motives, suspects, and the subsequent investigation, which ultimately failed to bring justice.
B [27:20]: “That scene was found in disarray, with locks broken off coffers and strong boxes and a collection of goods missing.”
Schwartz concludes by exploring Licoricea’s enduring legacy, including the erection of her statue in Winchester in 2022, symbolizing her impact and the historical significance of Jewish financiers in medieval England.
B [33:39]: “On the plinth of the statue are words from the book of Leviticus, 'love thy neighbor as thyself,' engraved in both English and Hebrew.”
Throughout the episode, Schwartz includes poignant quotes and expert insights that enrich the narrative:
The Murder of Licoricea of Winchester offers a riveting portrayal of Licoricea’s life against the backdrop of medieval England’s complex socio-political landscape. Dana Schwartz masterfully intertwines historical facts with engaging storytelling, providing listeners with a comprehensive understanding of Licoricea’s influence, the challenges she faced, and the enduring mystery of her untimely death.
Final Thoughts This episode not only sheds light on an often-overlooked figure in history but also underscores the precarious position of Jewish communities in medieval Europe. Licoricea’s story is a testament to resilience, power, and the tragic costs of societal prejudice.
For those intrigued by tales of power, mystery, and history, "The Murder of Licoricea of Winchester" is an essential listen. Continue exploring more fascinating stories on Noble Blood by subscribing to iHeartRadio or Grim & Mild.