Shrouded in the fogs of the North Sea, the British Isles were, for two centuries after the Great Expulsion by Edward I., little more than a bitter memory to the Jewish people. In other lands they came and went, but England was as securely closed against them as was the Egypt of Danaus to the Greeks. With the exception of a few adventurous pilgrims who trickled into the country to enjoy the hospitality of the Domus Conversorum, they ceased gradually to think of the land which had been so signal a scene of their mediæval prosperity and sufferings. The Jewish chroniclers of this period, while dealing with the politics of other European countries, have scarcely a word to say of England.
Towards the beginning of the sixteenth century the fogs began to lift, and England once again appeared as a possible haven to the “tribe of the wandering foot and weary breast.” The gigantic expulsions from Spain by Ferdinand and Isabella had created a new Jewish Diaspora under conditions of the most thrilling romance. The Jewish martyrs “trekked” in their thousands to all the points of the compass, fringing the coasts of the Mediterranean with a new industrious population, founding colonies all over the Levant as far as the Mesopotamian cradle of their race, penetrating even to Hindostan in the East, and throwing outposts on the track of Columbus towards the fabled west. But this was only the beginning of a more remarkable dispersion. The men and women who took up the pilgrim’s staff at the bidding of Torquemada could only go where Jews were tolerated, for they refused to bear false witness to their ancient religion. They left behind them in Spain and Portugal a less scrupulous contingent of their race—wealthy Jews who were disinclined to make sacrifices for the faith of their fathers, and who accepted the conditions of the Inquisition rather than abandon their rich plantations in Andalusia and their palaces in Saragossa, Toledo, and Seville. They embraced Christianity, but their conversion was only simulated, and for two centuries they preserved in secret their allegiance to Judaism. These Crypto-Jews, in their turn, gradually spread all over Europe, penetrating in their disguise into countries and towns and even guilds which the Church had jealously guarded against all heretical intrusion. It was chiefly through them that the modern Anglo-Jewish community was founded.[1]
The Iberian Crypto-Jews, or Marranos,[2] as they were called, represented one of the strangest and most romantic movements in the religious history of Europe. Marranism was an attempt by the Jews to outwit the Jesuits with their own weapons. Both sides acted on the principle that the end justified the means, and each employed the most unscrupulous guile to defend itself against the other. The Inquisition was ruthless in its methods to stamp out Judaism, the Marranos were equally unprincipled in preserving their allegiance to their proscribed religion. Abandoning their ceremonial, abandoning even the racial limitation on marriage, the Jewish tradition was maintained by secret conventicles chiefly composed of males, and thus Jewish blood and the Jewish heresy became distributed all over the peninsula, and crept into the highest ranks of the nation. The Court, the Church, the army, even the dread tribunals of the Holy Office itself were not free from the taint.[3] A secretary to the Spanish king, a vice-chancellor of Aragon, nearly related to the Royal House, a Lord High Treasurer, a Court Chamberlain, and an Archdeacon of Coimbra figure in the lists of discovered Marranos preserved by the Inquisition.[4] At Rome the Crypto-Jews commissioned a secret agent supplied with ample funds, who bribed the Cardinals, intrigued against the Holy Office, and frequently obtained the ear of the Pontiff.[5] Some idea of the social ramifications of the Marranos is afforded by the careers of the early members of the Amsterdam Jewish community. Many of them were men of high distinction who had escaped from Spain and Portugal in order to throw off the burden of their imposture. Such were the ex-monk Vicente de Rocamora, who had been confessor to the Empress of Germany when she was the Infanta Maria; the ex-Jesuit father, Tomas de Pinedo, one of the leading philologists of his day; Enriquez de Paz, a captain in the army, a Knight of San Miguel, and a famous dramatist; Colonel Nicolas de Oliver y Fullana, poet, strategist, and royal cartographer; Don Francesco de Silva, Marquis of Montfort, who had fought against Marshal de Créqui under the Emperor Leopold; and Balthasar Orobio de Castro, physician to the Spanish Court, professor at the University of Salamanca, and a Privy Councillor.[6] It was by Jews of this class that the congregations of Amsterdam, Hamburg, and Antwerp were founded, and it was largely through them that those towns in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were enabled to wrest from Spain her primacy in the colonial trade.
At a very early epoch Marranos reached England. We hear of them, almost immediately after the expulsion from Spain, figuring in a lawsuit in London.[7] In 1550 a Marrano physician was discovered living in London. Another, Roderigo Lopes, was court physician to Queen Elizabeth, and the original of Shakespeare’s Shylock.[8] When the Earl of Essex, after the sacking of Cadiz in 1596, brought the Spanish Resident, Alonzo de Herrera, a prisoner to England, he turned out to be a Marrano. After his liberation, this descendant of the great Captain Gonsalvo de Cordova proceeded to Amsterdam, entered the synagogue, and spent his old age in the compilation of cabalistical treatises.[9] Amador de los Rios states that the Marranos founded secret settlements in London, Dover, and York;[10] and it has been shown that they possessed a secret synagogue in London early in the seventeenth century, if not before.[11] As in Amsterdam and Antwerp, they were largely concerned in the development of the Spanish trade, in the importation of bullion, and in the promotion of commercial relations with the Levant and the New World.
While the people of England were unconscious of this immigration, it could not have been altogether unknown in the continental Jewries. That no trace of this knowledge is to be found in printed Hebrew literature is not strange, since the keeping of the secret was a common Jewish interest. It no doubt helped to stimulate Jewish hopes of a return to England, which more public circumstances had already founded. The Reformation in England first turned Jewish eyes towards the land from which they had been so long excluded. They were especially interested by Henry VIII.’s appeal to Jewish scholars during his conflict with the Papacy in regard to his divorce from Catherine of Aragon.[12] Still more deeply must their feelings have been stirred by Elizabeth’s struggle with Spain. All over Europe, indeed, Jewish sympathies were with Elizabeth. The secret negotiations carried on by Roderigo Lopes, through his influential Marrano relatives, with the Grand Turk and with the Hebrew bankers of Antwerp and Leghorn, have yet to be made public; but it is certain that they played an important part in the story which culminated in the confusion of the Great Armada. But it was the increasing Hebraism of English religious thought, as represented by the Puritan movement, which chiefly attracted the Jews. This movement sent not a few Englishmen and Englishwomen to the continental ghettos to seek instruction at the feet of Hebrew Rabbis, and even to obtain entrance to the synagogue as proselytes.[13] When the Commonwealth, with its pronounced Judaical tendencies, emerged from this movement, the Jews could not fail to be impressed. The more mystical among them began to dream of the Golden Age. Indeed the doctrines of the Fifth Monarchy Men, carried to Smyrna by Puritan merchants, paved the way for the rise of the pseudo-Messiah, Sabbethai Zevi.[14] The more practical saw that the time had arrived when it might be reasonably hoped to obtain the revocation of Edward I.’s edict of banishment.
Towards the end of 1655, the question of the readmission of the Jews to England was brought to a climax by Menasseh ben Israel’s famous mission to Oliver Cromwell. The story of this mission has been briefly narrated by Menasseh himself in the Vindiciæ Judæorum, one of the tracts printed in the present volume.[15] As my object in this preliminary essay is to set forth the story more fully, and to endeavour to elucidate its obscurities, I cannot do better than take as my text this authoritative, though somewhat vague, statement by the chief actor in the events with which I am dealing. Here is what Menasseh wrote under date of April 10, 1656:—
“The communication and correspondence I have held for some years since, with some eminent persons of England, was the first originall of my undertaking this design. For I alwayes found by them, a great probability of obtaining what I now request, whilst they affirmed that at this time the minds of men stood very well affected towards us, and that our entrance into this Island would be very acceptable and well pleasing unto them. And from this beginning sprang up in me a semblable affection, and desire of obtaining this purpose. For, for seven yeares on this behalf, I have endeavoured and sollicited it, by letters and other means, without any intervall. For I conceived that our universall dispersion was a necessary circumstance, to be fulfilled before all that shall be accomplished which the Lord hath promised to the people of the Jewes, concerning their restauration, and their returning again into their own land, according to those words, Dan. 12,7: When we shall have accomplished to scatter the power of the holy people, all these things shall be finished. As also, that this our scattering, by little, and little, should be amongst all people, from the one end of the earth even unto the other, as it is written Deut. 28,64: I conceived that by the end of the earth might be understood this Island. And I knew not, but that the Lord who often works by naturall meanes, might have design’d and made choice of me for the bringing about this work. With these proposals therefore, I applyed my self, in all zealous affection to the English Nation, congratulating their glorious liberty which at this day they enjoy; together with their prosperous peace. And I entituled my book named The Hope of Israel, to the first Parliament, and the Council of State. And withall declared my intentions. In order to which they sent me a very favorable passe-port. Afterwards I directed my self to the second, and they also sent me another. But at that juncture of time my coming was not presently performed, for that my kindred and friends, considering the checquered, and interwoven vicissitudes, and turns of things here below, embracing me, with pressing importunity, earnestly requested me not to part from them, and would not give over, till their love constrained me to promise, that I would yet awhile stay with them. But notwithstanding all this, I could not be at quiet in my mind (I know not but that it might be through some particular divine providence) till I had anew made my humble addresses to his Highnesse the Lord Protector (whom God preserve), and finding that my coming over would not be altogether unwelcome to him, with those great hopes which I conceived, I joyfully took my leave of my house, my friends, my kindred, all my advantages there, and the country wherein I have lived all my lifetime, under the benign protection, and favour of the Lords, the States Generall, and Magistrates of Amsterdam; in fine (I say) I parted with them all, and took my voyage for England. Where, after my arrivall, being very courteously received, and treated with much respect, I presented to his most Serene Highnesse a petition, and some desires, which for the most part, were written to me by my brethren the Jewes, from severall parts of Europe, as your worship may better understand by former relations. Whereupon it pleased His Highnesse to convene an Assembly at Whitehall, of Divines, Lawyers, and Merchants, of different persuasions, and opinions. Whereby men’s judgements, and sentences were different. Insomuch, that as yet, we have had no finall determination from his most Serene Highnesse. Wherefore those few Jewes that were here, despairing of our expected successe, departed hence. And others who desired to come hither, have quitted their hopes, and betaken themselves some to Italy, some to Geneva, where that Commonwealth hath at this time, most freely granted them many, and great privileges.”
The first point in Menasseh’s story which needs elucidation is his statement that he was originally induced to move in the question of the resettlement of the Jews by the assurances of “some eminent persons of England,” that “the minds of men stood very well affected towards us.” How had this philo-Semitic sentiment arisen, and who were the men who had communicated it to the Amsterdam Rabbi?
The evolution of English thought which rendered Menasseh ben Israel’s enterprise possible is of considerable complexity, but its main features are easily distinguishable. The idea of Religious Liberty in England was due, in its broader aspects, to the struggle between the Baptists and the Calvinists. The Reformation established only a restricted form of Religious Liberty, and it was not until the Baptists found themselves persecuted as the Reformers had been before them, that the cry arose for a liberty of conscience which would embrace all religions. In the Separatist Churches, founded by English refugees in Amsterdam and Geneva, the idea grew and strengthened. The earliest noteworthy tract on the subject—Leonard Busher’s “Religious Peace, or a Plea for Liberty of Conscience,” published in 1614—was written under the influence of these exiles, and it is noteworthy that already in that work the extension of religious liberty to Jews was specifically demanded.[16] Amsterdam was at that time the seat of a flourishing Jewish community, some of whose members came into contact with the philo-Jewish refugees. In this way they probably learnt to understand the political significance of the successive rise of the Puritans and Independents, for at the very beginning of the Civil War the Royalist spies in Holland noted that the Jews sympathised with the Republicans, and even alleged that they had offered them “considerable sums of money to carry on their designs.”[17]
The progress of Religious Liberty in the seventeenth century reached its highest point, when in 1645 the Independents captured the Army under the scheme known as the “New Model.” Meanwhile Roger Williams, the famous Baptist, who had already founded in America a community based on unrestricted liberty of conscience, had published his “Bloudy Tenent of Persecution,” in which he generously pleaded for the Jews.[18] In 1646 a reprint of Leonard Busher’s pamphlet was published in London, much to the joy of the Separatists in Amsterdam,[19] and a year later Hugh Peters, one of Cromwell’s Army Chaplains, wrote his “Word for the Army and Two Words for the Kingdom,” in which he proposed that “strangers, even Jews [be] admitted to trade and live with us.”[20] The question of the readmission of the Jews was, however, still far from taking practical shape. Although frequently referred to, it had only been raised incidentally as an illustration of the advanced tendencies of the advocates of Religious Liberty.
In December 1648, the Independents contrived the famous “Pride’s Purge,” which put an end to the Presbyterian domination of Parliament. The hopes of the advocates of Religious Liberty ran high, and the Jewish question at once came to the front. The Council of Mechanics, meeting at Whitehall, marked their sense of the meaning of the coup d’état by immediately voting “a toleration of all religions whatsoever, not excepting Turkes, nor Papists, nor Jewes.”[21] To this the Council of Army Officers responded with a resolution, the text of which has, unfortunately, not been preserved, in which they favoured the widest scheme of Religious Liberty. It was, indeed, rumoured at the time that the Jews were specifically mentioned in the resolution.[22] However that may be, it is certain that in the following month two Baptists of Amsterdam, Johanna Cartwright and her son Ebenezer, were encouraged to present a petition to Lord Fairfax and the General Council of Officers, in which they asked that “the statute of banishment” against the Jews might be repealed. The petition, we are told, was “favourably received, with a promise to take it into speedy consideration when the present more public affairs are dispatched.”[23]
Unfortunately, the “more public affairs” obstructed the triumph of Religious Liberty, and with it the Jewish cause, for a good many years. In the same month that Mrs. Cartwright’s petition was considered, Charles I. was beheaded, and the chiefs of the Revolution, with a great work of reconstruction before them, felt that they must proceed cautiously. Toleration of the Jews meant unrestricted liberty of conscience, and this was held by the extreme Independents to imply not only the abolition of an Established Church, but a licence to the multitude of sects—many of them of the maddest and most blasphemous tendencies—which had been hatched by Laudian persecution and the reaction of the Civil War. Cromwell and his advisers were resolved to pursue a more conservative policy, and the toleration plans of the Independents were accordingly shelved. For a hundred years—until, indeed, Pelham’s “Jew Bill” in 1753—they were not heard of in this purely secular shape again.
The cause of Religious Liberty was, however, not the only force which was working in the country for the readmission of the Jews. The religious fervour of the nation had been stirred to a high pitch, and there were few men whose minds had not become influenced by Messianic and other mystical beliefs. It is curious indeed to note that this current of thought ran parallel with the evolution of the secular idea of Toleration. Seven years after the first publication of Leonard Busher’s famous Toleration pamphlet, Mr. Sergeant Finch wrote anonymously a book entitled “The Calling of the Jewes” (1621), with a prefatory epistle in Hebrew, in which he invited the children of Israel to realise the prophecies by asserting their national existence in Palestine. At the same time he called upon all Christian princes to do homage to the Jewish nation. This early manifestation of Zionism did not meet with much sympathy in high places, for James I. was so incensed at it that he clapped its publisher into jail.[24] The book, however, was a symptom, and the movement it represented only derived strength from persecution. The gloomier the lot of the sectaries, the more intense became their reliance on the Messianic prophecies. Even after the triumph of the Puritan cause, the sanest Independents held to them firmly side by side with their belief in Religious Liberty; and in the Cartwright petition we find both views expounded. Extremists like the Fifth Monarchy Men made them the pivots for fresh outbursts of Sectarianism. Judaical sects arose, the members of which endeavoured to live according to the Levitical Law, even practising circumcision. Prosecutions for such practices may be traced back to 1624.[25] Some of the saints, like Everard the Leveller, publicly called themselves Jews;[26] others went to Amsterdam, and were formally received into the synagogue.[27] Colchester was the headquarters of one of these Judaical sects, but there were others in London and in Wales.[28] The practical effect of this movement was not only the production of a very widespread philo-Semitism, but a strong conviction that, inasmuch as the conversion of the Jews was an indispensable preliminary of the Millennium, their admission to England, where they might meet the godliest people in the world, was urgently necessary.
It was this feeling which, on the collapse of the Toleration movement in 1649, began to make itself most loudly heard. Edward Nicholas, John Sadler, John Dury, Henry Jessey, Roger Williams, and even Thomas Fuller, who was far from being a mystic, urged this view on the public, and an agitation for the Readmission of the Jews, as a religious duty outside the problem of Religious Liberty, was set on foot. This mystical agitation found a response in what to us must at first sight appear a strangely inappropriate quarter. It brought forth from Amsterdam a Latin pamphlet, entitled “Spes Israelis,” with a prefatory address “To the Parliament, the Supreme Court of England,” the author of which was Menasseh ben Israel, one of the Rabbis of the congregation. This pamphlet illustrates the inception of the enterprise for the Resettlement of the Jews in England, which its author endeavoured to carry out six years later.
Menasseh ben Israel was the son of a Marrano of Lisbon, who had suffered at the hands of the Inquisition, and had, as a result, taken up his abode in Amsterdam. Menasseh was educated under the care of Rabbi Isaac Uziel, and, at the age of eighteen, was ordained a Rabbi. He was an indefatigable student, became a mine of learning, an accomplished linguist, a fluent writer, and a voluble preacher. His attainments made considerable noise in the world, at a time when public attention was riveted on Biblical prophecy, and the question of its fulfilment through the Jews. His voluminous writings obtained for him a high reputation as a scholar, and the readiness with which he afforded information to all who corresponded with him made him many influential friends, who spread his fame far and wide. The secret of the distinction Menasseh secured for himself, in spite of the weaknesses of his character and the eccentricity of his mental tendency, lies in the fact that the world in which he lived was very largely given over to philo-Semitism, and to the special form of mysticism to which he had yielded himself. His alliance with a scion of the Abarbanel family, in whose tradition of Davidic descent he was a firm believer, inspired him with the idea that he was destined to promote the coming of the Messiah; and hence the wild dreams of the English Millenarians appealed to him with something of a personal force. It was not, however, until the triumph of the Republican cause in England that he resolved to throw in his lot with the Puritan mystics, and even then he had some difficulty, as we may readily believe, in adopting an attitude which would at once conciliate the English Conversionists, and harmonise with his allegiance to the synagogue.[29]
At first his sympathies, like those of most of the leading members of the Amsterdam community, seem to have been Royalist, for in 1642 we find him extolling the queen of Charles I. in an oration.[30] In 1647 he was still far from recognising in the Puritan revolt a movement calling for his Messianic sympathy; for, writing to an English friend in that year, he described the Civil War, not, as he afterwards believed it to be, as a struggle of the godly against the ungodly, but as a Divine punishment for the expulsion of his co-religionists from Britain in the thirteenth century.[31] This letter is interesting as showing that his mind was then already beginning to be exercised by the Resettlement question; but he evidently had as yet no definite idea of taking any practical action. In the autumn of 1649 a method of action was suggested to him by a letter he received from the well-known English Puritan, John Dury, whose acquaintance he had made in Amsterdam five years previously.
A friend of John Dury, one Thomas Thorowgood, was deeply interested in the missionary labours of the famous evangelist, John Eliot, among the American Indians; and in order to prevail upon the philo-Jewish public to provide money for the support of the mission, had compiled a treatise showing that the American Indians were the Lost Tribes. This work was largely founded on the conjectures of the early Spanish missionaries, who had up to that time a monopoly of this solution of the Ten Tribes problem. It was written in 1648, and dedicated to the King, but the renewal of the Civil War in that year prevented its publication.[32] Thorowgood thereupon sent the proofs of the first part of the work to John Dury to read. It happened that Dury, while at the Hague in 1644, had heard some stories about the Ten Tribes which had very much interested him. One was to the effect that a Jew, named Antonio de Montezinos, or Aaron Levy, had, while travelling in South America, met a race of savages in the Cordilleras, who recited the Shema,[33] practised Jewish ceremonies, and were, in short, Israelites of the Tribe of Reuben. Montezinos had related his story to Menasseh ben Israel, and had even embodied it in an affidavit executed under oath before the chiefs of the Amsterdam Synagogue. As soon as Dury received Thorowgood’s treatise, he remembered this story, and at once wrote to Menasseh ben Israel for a copy of the affidavit. The courteous Rabbi sent it to him by return of post,[34] and it was printed for the first time as an appendix to an instalment of Thorowgood’s treatise, which, at Dury’s instance, was published in January 1650.[35]
This incident, coupled with some letters he received from the notorious Millenarian, Nathaniel Holmes, came as a ray of light to Menasseh. For five years he had had Montezinos’s narrative by him, and had not regarded it as of sufficient importance to publish. He had, perhaps, doubted the wisdom of publishing it, seeing that it tended to substantiate a theory of purely Jesuitical origin, for which no sanction could be found in Jewish records or legend. Moreover, he had no strong views on the prophetical bearing of the question, as we may see by a letter he addressed to Holmes as late as the previous summer, in which he stated that he had grave doubts as to the time and manner of the coming of the Messiah.[36] Now, however, the question began to grow clear to him, and it dawned upon him that the long-neglected narrative of Montezinos might be used for a better purpose than the support of Christian missions in New England. The story was, if true, a proof of the increasing dispersion of Israel. Daniel had foretold that the scattering of the Holy People would be the forerunner of their Restoration, and a verse in Deuteronomy had explained that the scattering would be “from one end of the earth even to the other end of the earth.” It was clear from Montezinos and other travellers that they had already reached one end of the earth. Let them enter England and the other end would be attained. Thus the promises of the Almighty would be fulfilled, and the Golden Age would dawn. “I knew not,” he wrote later on, “but that the Lord who often works by naturall meanes, might have design’d, and made choice of me, for bringing about this work.”[37] In this hope he wrote the famous מקוה ישראל which in 1650 burst on the British public under the title of the “Hope of Israel.”
The central idea of this booklet did not occur to Menasseh immediately on receiving John Dury’s letter. His first intention, as he explained in a letter dated November 25, 1649, was to write a treatise on the Dispersion of the Ten Tribes for the information of Dury and his friends. The volume, however, grew under his pen, and a week later he announced to Dury his larger plan. His letter gives a complete synopsis of the work, and he finishes up by informing Dury that “I prove at large that the day of the promised Messiah unto us doth draw near.”[38] Thus he had already made up his mind on a question which, only a few months before, he had assured Holmes was “uncertain,” and was intended to be uncertain. Holmes was at the time unaware of his conversion, for, on December 24, he wrote to him an expostulatory letter, in which, curiously enough, he advised him to study the Danielic Prophecies.[39] Still, Menasseh does not seem to have fully grasped the application of his treatise to the Resettlement question, for neither in the body of the work nor in the Spanish edition does he refer to it. It was only when he composed the Latin edition that his scheme reached maturity. To that edition he prefixed a dedication to the English Parliament, eulogising its stupendous achievements, and supplicating “your favour and good-will to our nation now scattered almost all over the earth.”
The tract produced a profound impression throughout England. That an eminent Jewish Rabbi should bless the new Republican Government, and should bear testimony to its having “done great things valiantly,” was peculiarly gratifying to the whole body of Puritans. To the Millenarians and other sectaries it was a source of still deeper satisfaction, for their wild faith now received the sanction of one of the Chosen People, a sage of Israel, of the Seed of the Messiah. Besides the Latin edition which Dury distributed among all the leading Puritans, and which was probably read in Parliament, two English editions issued anonymously by Moses Wall were rapidly sold. Nevertheless, its effect proved transitory. Sober politicians, who still recognised that the new-fledged Republic had, as Fairfax said, “more public affairs” to despatch than the Jewish question, had begun to fear lest their hands might be forced by Menasseh’s coup. This feeling was strikingly reflected in a tract by Sir Edward Spencer, one of the members of Parliament for Middlesex. Addressing himself with feline affection “to my deare brother, Menasseh ben Israel, the Hebrewe Philosopher,” he expressed his readiness to agree to the admission of the Jews on twelve conditions artfully designed to strengthen the hands of the sectaries who believed that, besides the dispersion of the Jews, their conversion was also a necessary condition of the Millennium.[40] Spencer’s tract was the signal for a revulsion of feeling. Sadler, afterwards one of Menasseh’s firmest friends, threw doubts on the authenticity of Montezinos’s story,[41] and Fuller did not scruple to criticise the Zionist theory on practical grounds.[42] Even the faithful Jessey held his peace in tacit sympathy with Spencer’s scheme. As for Menasseh, he showed no disposition to acquiesce in Spencer’s proposals. The result was that the sensation gradually died away, though a few stalwart Tolerationists like Hugh Peters still clamoured for unconditional Readmission.[43]
Thus both the Toleration and Messianic movements proved unavailing for the purposes of the Jewish Restoration. There remained a third view of the question which made less noise in the world, but which was destined to bring about gradually and silently a real and lasting solution—the view of Political Expediency.
The statesmen of the Commonwealth, who knew so well how to conjure with human enthusiasm, were essentially practical men. To imagine that they were the slaves of the great religious revival which had enabled them to overcome the loyalist inspiration of the cavaliers is entirely to misconceive their character and aims. The logical outcome of that revival, and of the triumph of the Puritan arms, would have been the Kingdom of Saints, but Cromwell’s ambition aimed at something much more conventional. Imperial expansion and trade ascendency filled a larger place in his mind than the Other-worldly inspirations which had carried him to power.
With the unrestricted Toleration principles of the Baptists he had no sympathy, and still less with the Messianic phantasies of the Fifth Monarchy Men which Menasseh ben Israel had virtually embraced. His ideas on Religious Liberty were certainly large and far in advance of his times,[44] but they were essentially the ideas of a churchman. Their limits are illustrated by his ostentatious patronage in 1652 of Owens’ scheme of a Toleration confined to Christians.[45] Still he was not the slave of these limits. The ingenious distinction he drew between the Papistry of France and that of Spain, when it became necessary for him to choose between them, and his complete disregard of the same principles in the case of the Portuguese alliance, show how readily he subordinated his strongest religious prejudices to political exigencies. As for the mystics and ultra-democrats, his views were set forth very clearly in his speech to the new Parliament in September 1651, when he opposed the Millenarians, the Judaisers, and the Levellers by name.[46] It is impossible for any one reading this speech side by side with Menasseh ben Israel’s tracts to believe that the author of it had any sympathy with the wilder motives actuating the Jewish Rabbi.
What was it, then, that brought these two different characters so closely together? That the Readmission of the Jews to England was one of Cromwell’s own schemes—part and parcel of that dream of Imperial expansion which filled his latter days with its stupendous adumbration and vanished so tragically with his early death—it is impossible to doubt. We have no record of his views on the subject, beyond a short and ambiguous abstract of his speech at the Whitehall Conferences, but there is ample evidence that he was the mainspring of the whole movement, and that Menasseh was but a puppet in his hands. His main motives are not difficult to guess. Cromwell’s statecraft was, as I have said, not entirely or even essentially governed by religious policy. He desired to make England great and prosperous, as well as pious and free, and for these purposes he had to consider the utility of his subjects even before he weighed their orthodoxy. Now the Jews could not but appeal to him as very desirable instruments of his colonial and commercial policy. They controlled the Spanish and Portuguese trade; they had the Levant trade largely in their hands; they had helped to found the Hamburg Bank, and they were deeply interested in the Dutch East and West Indian companies. Their command of bullion, too, was enormous, and their interest in shipping was considerable.[47] Moreover, he knew something personally of the Jews, for he was acquainted with some of the members of the community of Marranos then established in London, and they had proved exceedingly useful to him as contractors and intelligencers.[48] There is, indeed, reason to believe that some of these Marranos had been brought into the country by the Parliamentary Government as early as 1643 with the specific object of supplying the pecuniary necessities of the new administration.[49]
Until the end of 1651 the Readmission question presented no elements of urgency, because there was a chance of its favourable solution without its being made the object of a special effort on the part of the Government or the legislature. By the treaty of coalition proposed to the Netherlands by the St. John mission early in 1651, the Jewish question would have solved itself, for the Hebrew merchants of Amsterdam would have ipso facto acquired in England the same rights as they enjoyed in Holland. That proposal, however, broke down, and as a result the famous Navigation Act was passed. The object of that measure was to exclude foreign nations from the colonial trade, and to dethrone the Dutch from their supremacy in the carrying and distributing traffic of Europe. Consequently it supplied a strong inducement to Jewish merchants—especially those of Amsterdam who were then trading with Jamaica and Barbados—to transfer their counting-houses to London. As such an immigration would have well served the policy embodied in the Navigation Act, it became desirable that some means of legalising Jewish residence in England should be found, and hence the question of Readmission was brought within the field of practical politics. This was the new form in which it presented itself. It was no longer a question of Religious Toleration or of the hastening of the Millennium, but purely a question of political expediency.
It appears that the St. John mission, when its failure became probable, was instructed to study the Jewish question, and probably to enter into negotiations with leading Jews in Amsterdam. Certain it is that its members saw a great deal of Menasseh ben Israel during their sojourn in Holland, and that Cromwell’s benevolent intentions were conveyed to him. Thurloe, who was secretary to the mission, had several conferences with the Rabbi, and the Synagogue entertained the members of the mission, notwithstanding that public opinion ran high against them.[50] Strickland, the colleague of St. John, and formerly ambassador at the Hague, was ever afterwards regarded as an authority on the Jewish question, for he served on most of the Committees appointed to consider Menasseh’s petitions. Still more significant is the fact that within a few weeks of the return of the Embassy a letter, the text of which has not been preserved, was received from Menasseh by the Council of State, and an influential committee, on which Cromwell himself served, was at once appointed to peruse and answer it.[51] Towards the end of the following year two passes couched in flattering terms were issued to the Rabbi to enable him to come to England.[52]
Meanwhile, the long-feared war broke out, and negotiations were perforce suspended. From 1652 to 1654 the popular agitation for the Readmission of the Jews spluttered weakly in pamphlets and broadsheets. In 1653 there was a debate in Parliament on the subject, but no conclusion was arrived at.[53] In the following year, shortly after the conclusion of peace, a new element was introduced into the question by the appearance on the scene of a fresh petitioner from Holland, one Manuel Martinez Dormido, a brother-in-law of Menasseh ben Israel, and afterwards well known in England as David Abarbanel Dormido.
The mission of Dormido was clearly a continuation of Menasseh’s enterprise, and it was probably undertaken on the direct invitation of the Protector. With the restoration of peace on terms which rendered persistence in the policy of the Navigation Act indispensable, Cromwell must have been anxious to take the Jewish question seriously in hand. The negotiations opened by Thurloe with Menasseh in 1651 were probably resumed, and an intimation was conveyed to the Jewish Rabbi that the time was ripe for him to come to England and lay his long-contemplated prayer before the Government of the Commonwealth. Menasseh’s reasons for not accepting the invitation in person are not difficult to understand. He doubtless refers to them in the passage from the Vindiciæ I have already quoted, where he says he was entreated by his kindred and friends, “considering the chequered and interwoven vicissitudes and turns of things here below, not to part from them.”[54] His kindred and friends were wise. Owing to his quarrels with his colleagues in the Amsterdam Rabbinate his situation had become precarious, and it might have become hopelessly and disastrously compromised had he, in the then incensed state of Dutch feeling against England—a feeling in which the leading Jews of the Netherlands participated—undertaken a mission to the Protector. Hence the delegation of the work to his brother-in-law. An indication of Menasseh’s interest in the new mission is afforded by the fact that his only surviving son, Samuel ben Israel, was associated with Dormido, and accompanied him to London.
Unlike his distinguished relative, Dormido had nothing to lose by approaching Cromwell. A Marrano by birth, a native of Andalusia, where he had enjoyed great wealth and held high public office, he had been persecuted by the Inquisition, and compelled to fly to Holland. There he had made a fortune in the Brazil trade, and had become a leading merchant of Amsterdam, and one of the chiefs of the Synagogue. The conquest of Pernambuco by the Portuguese early in 1654 had ruined him, and he found himself compelled to begin life afresh.[55] He saw his opportunity in the mission confided to him by Menasseh. It opened to him the chance of a new career under the powerful protection of the greatest personality in Christendom. Unlike his brother-in-law, he had no Millenarian delusions. The Jewish question appealed to him in something of the same practical fashion that it appealed to Cromwell. While the Protector was seeking the commercial interests of the Commonwealth, Dormido was anxious to repair his own shattered fortunes.
On the 1st September he arrived in London, and at once set about drafting two petitions to Cromwell.[56] In the first of these documents he recited his personal history, the story of his sufferings at the hands of the Inquisition, and of the confiscation of his property by the Portuguese in Pernambuco. He expressed his desire to become a resident in England and a subject of the Commonwealth, and wound up by praying the Protector to use his good offices with the King of Portugal for the restitution of his fortune. The second petition was a prayer for the Readmission of the Jewish people to England, “graunting them libertie to come with theire famillies and estates, to bee dwellers here with the same eaquallnese and conveniences wch yr inland borne subjects doe enjoy.” The petition, after a violent tirade against the Inquisition and the intolerance of the Apostolical Roman Church, pointed out that the Readmission of the Jews would be to the advantage of trade and industry, and would vastly increase the public revenues. These adroit appeals to the chief motives of the Protector’s statecraft were followed by a suggestion that in the event of the prayer being granted the petitioner might be appointed to the control and management of the new community, with, of course, appropriate compensation for his services.
Despite their obviously selfish motives, Cromwell received these petitions with significant graciousness. They were at once sent to the Council, with an endorsement, stating that “His Highnes is pleased in an especiall manner to recommend these two annexed papers to the speedy consideracion of the Councell, that the Peticion may receive all due satisfacion and withall convenient speed.” It is impossible not to be struck by the pressing nature of this recommendation, when it is considered that the chief petition dealt with a very large and important political question, and that its signatory was a man wholly unknown in England. Cromwell’s action can only be explained by the theory that he was, as I have suggested, the instigator of the whole movement. Whether the Council were aware of this or not is impossible to say. They had as yet no decided opinions on the subject, but they saw that it was a large and difficult question, that its bearings were imperfectly known, and that its decision, either one way or the other, involved a very serious responsibility at a time when the religious element wielded so much power in the country, and withal so capriciously. At the personal instigation of the Protector, however, they consented to appoint a committee to consider the petitions. A month later, taking advantage of a meeting at which Cromwell was not present, the committee verbally reported, and the Council resolved, that it “saw no excuse to make any order.”[57]
That Cromwell was disappointed by this result he speedily made clear. In regard to the Resettlement petition, he did not care to take the responsibility of giving a decision; but on the other petition he took immediate steps to afford satisfaction to Dormido, in spite of the refusal of the Council to have anything to do with it. He addressed an autograph letter to the King of Portugal, asking him as a personal favour to restore Dormido’s property, or to make him full compensation for his losses.[58] Seeing that Dormido was an alien, and had absolutely no claim on the British Government, this personal intervention by Cromwell on his behalf affords a further strong presumption of his privity to the Jewish mission. It is also not a little significant that a few months later the Protector granted a patent of denization to Antonio Fernandez Carvajal, the chief of the little Marrano community in London, and his two sons.[59]
The question was, however, not allowed to rest here. Cromwell wanted an authoritative decision, which would enable him to do more than merely protect individual Jews, and it was clear that this could not be obtained unless a more important person than Dormido were induced to take the matter in hand. The question had to be raised to a higher level, and for this purpose it was necessary that it should make some noise in the country. Only one European Jew had sufficient influence in England to stimulate the popular imagination, and to justify the Government in taking serious steps for the solution of the question. That man was the author of the “Hope of Israel.” In May 1655 it was decided to send Samuel ben Israel back to Amsterdam to lay the case before his father, and persuade him to come to London.[60] There is no mystery as to who suggested this step. Menasseh in his diplomatic way merely tells us he was informed that his “coming over would not be altogether unwelcome to His Highness the Lord Protector.”[61] There is, however, a letter extant from John Sadler to Richard Cromwell, written shortly after Oliver’s death, in which it is definitely stated that Menasseh was invited “by some letters of your late royall father.”[62] Sadler no doubt spoke from personal knowledge, for in 1654 he was acting as private secretary to the Protector, and the endorsement on Dormido’s petitions recommending them to the Council bears his signature.[63] Under these circumstances we can well understand that Menasseh was induced, as he says, to “conceive great hopes,” and that he resolved to undertake the journey. In October he arrived in London with the MS. of his famous “Humble Addresses” in his pocket.
During the five months that Menasseh was preparing for his journey, Cromwell was not idle. Colonial questions were occupying his mind very largely, and on these questions he was in the habit of receiving advice from one at least of the London Marranos, Simon de Caceres, a relative of Spinoza, and an eminent merchant who had large interests in the West Indies, and had enjoyed the special favour of the King of Denmark and the Queen of Sweden.[64] It was no doubt at the instigation of De Caceres that in April 1655 Cromwell sent a Jewish physician, Abraham de Mercado, with his son Raphael to Barbados.[65] Later in the year he was deep in consultation with De Caceres in regard to the defences of the newly acquired island of Jamaica, and a plan for the conquest of Chili.[66] The most important result of these confabulations was a scheme for colonising Surinam (which since 1650 had been a British colony) with the Jewish fugitives from Brazil, who had been obliged to leave Pernambuco and Recife through the Portuguese reoccupation of those towns. The idea was, no doubt, suggested by Dormido, himself one of the victims of the Portuguese conquest. In order to attract the Jews, they were granted a charter in which full liberty of conscience was secured to them, together with civil rights, a large measure of communal autonomy, and important land grants.[67]
Thus a beginning was made in the solution of the Jewish question by their admission as citizens to one of the colonial dependencies of Great Britain. This was the first important step achieved by Cromwell, and it illustrates at once his deep interest in the Jewish question, and the practical considerations which actuated him in seeking its solution.
On his arrival in London, Menasseh, with his retinue of three Rabbis,[68] was lodged with much ceremony in one of the houses opposite the New Exchange, in the then fashionable Strand, the Piccadilly of its day. These houses were frequented by distinguished strangers who desired to be near the centre of official life at Whitehall, and the fact that Menasseh with his slender purse took up his abode in one of them, instead of seeking hospitality with his brother-in-law or his Marrano co-religionists in the city, shows at once the importance with which his mission was invested.[69] He was the guest of the Protector, bidden to London to discuss high affairs of state, and as such it was obviously inadmissible that he should be hidden away in some obscure address in an East-End Alsatia.
His first task after he had settled down in his “study” in the Strand was to print his “Humble Addresses,” in which he appealed to the Protector and the Commonwealth to readmit the Jews, and stated the grounds of his petition. This tract was written and translated into English long before he left Amsterdam. It had probably been prepared three years before, when he first received his passes for England. That it was in existence at a time when his final mission was uncontemplated is proved by its mention in a list of his works he sent to Felgenhauer in February 1655 (N.S.).[70] The title is there given as De Fidelitate et Utilitate Judaicæ Gentis, and it is described as Libellus Anglicus. This was nine months before he arrived in London, and three and a half months before his brother-in-law sent for him. My impression is that the tract was prepared at the time of the St. John mission in 1651, and that Menasseh had drafted it in accordance with the advice of Thurloe, who had pointed out that the faithfulness and profitableness of the Jewish people were likely to weigh more with Cromwell than the relation of their dispersion to the Messianic Age.
At any rate, the style and matter of the pamphlet are in welcome contrast to the fantastical theories of the “Hope of Israel,” resembling more the matter-of-fact petition of Dormido. The Danielic prophecy is, it is true, still asserted, but only as an aside, the case for the Readmission being argued almost exclusively on grounds of political expediency. Incidentally certain floating calumnies against the Jews—such as their alleged usury, the slaying of infants for the Passover, and their conversion of Christians—are discussed and refuted. In regard to the conversion of Christians, Menasseh had completely changed his attitude since writing the “Hope of Israel,” for in that work he had boasted of the conversions made by the Jews in Spain.[71] The prudent restraints Menasseh had imposed upon himself in the composition of this pamphlet are the more marked, since we know that he had in no way modified his original views as expounded in the “Hope of Israel.” This is shown by a letter he wrote to Felgenhauer early in the year, thanking him for dedicating to him the Bonum Nuncium Israeli, one of the maddest rhapsodies ever written.[72] In this letter he reiterated all his former views, with the exception of his belief in the imminence of the Millennium. Nor had he adopted any idea of compromising the question of the Readmission to meet the prejudices or fears of the various political and religious factions in England. His demand was for absolute freedom of ingress and settlement for all Jews and the unfettered exercise of their religion, “whiles we expect with you the Hope of Israel to be revealed.” The necessity of such a privilege had been the more impressed upon him by the renewal of the persecutions of his co-religionists in Poland, which had sent a great wave of destitute Jews westward. It was primarily for them and for the Marranos of Spain and Portugal that he hoped to find an unrestricted asylum in England.[73]
Until the publication of the “Humble Addresses,” there are but scanty clues in the printed literature of the time to the frame of mind in which Menasseh’s mission found the English public. It would seem, from the silence of the printing-presses, that the nearer the people approached the Readmission question as a problem of practical politics, the less enthusiastic they became for its solution. This is not difficult to understand. The secular Tolerationists were unable to make headway against the dangers of unlimited sectarianism, to which their doctrines seemed calculated to open the door. Of their chief exponents, Roger Williams was in America, John Sadler was muzzled by the responsibilities of office, and Hugh Peters was without an influential following. Moreover, the prosecutions of James Naylor and Biddle were then prominently before the public as a lesson that Toleration had yet to triumph within the Christian pale. The Conversionists and Millenarians, who formed the great majority of the Judeophils, and who included all Menasseh’s own friends except Sadler, attached no importance to the terms on which the Jews might be admitted, and were quite willing to acquiesce in legislative restrictions provided only they were admitted. The Economists and Political Opportunists, represented by Cromwell, Thurloe, Blake, and Monk,[74] did not dare to confess their true motives, since their worldly aims would on the one hand have been condemned by all the religious partisans of the Readmission, and on the other, would have alarmed the merchants of London, who had no desire for the commercial competition of a privileged colony of Hebrew traders.
This discouraging state of affairs was aggravated by foreign and Royalist intrigues. From the moment Menasseh’s mission was thought of, the Embassies in London and the Royalist agents set to work to defeat it. The Embassies, especially that of Holland, opposed it on its true grounds, as a development of the policy of the Navigation Act.[75] The Royalists were anxious to defeat it because, as Whitelock says, “it was a business of much importance to the Commonwealth, and the Protector was earnestly set upon it.”[76] Moreover, they had hoped to attract the Jews to their own cause, and they had been encouraged in this hope by the substantial assistance already rendered to them by wealthy Hebrews, like the Da Costas and Coronels.[77] An intercepted letter from Sir Edward Nicholas, Secretary to the exiled King, shows that the highest Royalist circles took a profound interest in the Jewish question, and made it their business to be well informed as to its progress. Nicholas, indeed, seems to have known all about the negotiations which preceded Menasseh’s journey to England.[78]
As soon as Menasseh reached London, he found himself the object of a host of calumnious legends, clearly designed by the Royalists and foreign agents to disturb the public mind. The story that the Jews had offered to buy St. Paul’s Cathedral and the Bodleian Library, which had been circulated unheeded in 1649, was revived.[79] One of Menasseh’s retinue was accused of wishing to identify Cromwell as the Jewish Messiah, and it was circumstantially stated that he had investigated the Protector’s pedigree in order to prove his Davidic descent.[80] It was declared that Cromwell harboured a design to hand over to the Jews the farming of the customs.[81] At the same time their character was painted in the darkest colours.[82] One of the most insidious forms that this campaign took was an attempt to show that the hope of converting the Jews, by which the larger number of the friends of the Readmission were actuated, was illusory, and that so far from becoming Christians, the Jews would “stone Christ to death.” For this purpose the pen of a converted Jew, named Paul Isaiah, who had served as a trooper in Rupert’s Horse, was requisitioned.[83] It was a hazardous experiment to employ Isaiah, for he might easily have been hailed by the Conversionists as a proof of the convertibility of the Jews. It was, however, notorious that he had learnt the ethics of the wilder Cavalier swashbucklers only too well,[84] and he was consequently regarded rather as an “awful example” of the sort of Jew who might be expected to listen to the Gospel than as an encouragement to hope for the salvation of the whole people.
The publication of the “Humble Addresses” only aggravated these popular misgivings. While the clerical and commercial Anti-Semites disputed all the propositions of Menasseh’s pamphlet, the visionaries and friends of Israel strongly resented the “sinfulness” of its insistence on the profitableness of the Jews. The bias of public feeling, as revealed by the tracts to which the “Humble Addresses” gave rise, was distinctly less favourable than in 1649, and was overwhelmingly hostile to an unreserved acquiescence in the terms of the Jewish petition. In 1649 an honest attempt to understand Judaism was made, as we may see by the publication of Chilmead’s translation of Leo de Modena’s Historia dei riti ebraici. There is no trace of an appeal to this or any similarly authoritative work in 1655–56, except in a stray passage of an isolated protest against the calumnies heaped on the Jews.[85] On the contrary, the efforts of the new students of Judaism, like Alexander Ross, were devoted to proving that the Jews had nothing in common with Christians, and that their religion “is not founded on Moses and the Law, but on idle and foolish traditions of the Rabbins”—that it was, in fact, a sort of Paganism.[86] The historical attacks on the Jews were the most powerful that had yet been made, while the replies to them were few and by obscure writers.[87] What is most significant, however, is that the chief friends of the Jews—the men who had encouraged Menasseh six years before—were now either silent or openly in favour of restrictions which would have rendered the Readmission a barren privilege. Sadler did not reiterate the Judeophil teachings of his “Rights of the Kingdom”; there was no echo of Hugh Peters’s “Good Work for a Good Magistrate,” with its uncompromising demand for liberty of conscience; and the pseudonymous author of “An Apology for the Honourable Nation of Jews,” which had so strongly impressed the public in 1648, was dumb. John Dury, who had practically started the first agitation in favour of the Jews, was now studying Jewish disabilities at Cassel, with a view to their introduction into England;[88] and Henry Jessey, the author of “The Glory of Judah and Israel,” to the testimonies of which Menasseh confidently appealed in the closing paragraph of his “Humble Addresses,” had been won over to the necessity of restrictions.[89] Not a single influential voice was raised in England in support of Menasseh’s proposals, either on the ground of love for the Jews or religious liberty. The temper of the unlettered people, especially the mercantile classes, is sufficiently illustrated by the fact that only a few months before a Jewish beggar had been mobbed in the city, owing to the inflammatory conduct of a merchant, who had followed the poor stranger about the Poultry shouting, “Give him nothing; he is a cursed Jew.”[90]
Undeterred by the inhospitable attitude of the public, Menasseh formally opened his negotiations with the Government of the Commonwealth. His first step was to pay a visit to Whitehall, and present copies of his “Humble Addresses” to the Council of State. He was unfortunate in the day he selected for this visit, for it happened to be one of the rare occasions when Cromwell was not present at the Council’s deliberations. The result was that, as on the similar occasion of the consideration of the report on Dormido’s petition, the Council felt itself free to take no action. It contented itself with instructing its clerk, Mr. Jessop, “to go forth and receive the said books,” and then proceeded with other business.[91]
That the Council had no desire to assume the responsibility of deciding the thorny Jewish question soon became manifest. A fortnight after Menasseh’s abortive visit to Whitehall, Cromwell brought down to the Council a petition which had been handed to him by the Jewish Rabbi, in which were set forth categorically the several “graces and favours” by which it was proposed that the Readmission of the Jews should be effected.[92] The Protector evidently felt none of the misgivings of his advisers. It is probable, indeed, that in his masterful way he misunderstood the trend of public feeling. He had convinced himself that, as an act of policy, some concession to the Jews was desirable. His strong instinct for religious liberty inclined him favourably to the more academic aspects of the question, and his profound sympathy with persecuted peoples had been stirred by the accounts Menasseh had personally given him of the dire straits of the Jews in Poland, Sweden, and the Holy Land, and of the cruelties inflicted on them in Spain and Portugal.[93] Moreover, his patriotism revolted at the idea that Protestant England should be particeps criminis in a policy of oppression which was so peculiarly identified with Papistical error. Thus impressed, he cared little for the outcries of the pamphleteers or the nervous scruples of his councillors, and he set himself to force on a prompt solution. At his instance a motion was made “That the Jews deserving it may be admitted into this nation to trade and traffic and dwell amongst us as Providence shall give occasion,”[94] and this, together with the petition of Menasseh and his “Humble Addresses,” was at once referred to a Committee. At the same time it was made clear to that body that the Protector expected an early report.[95]
So much is evident from the fact that the Committee met the same afternoon and reported the next morning. Its task was not an easy one. The feeling of the Council was by no means hostile to the Jews, but it had no enthusiasm for their cause, and it probably felt that an extension of official toleration beyond the limits of Christianity was a hazardous experiment. On the other hand, it was no longer possible for it to express this feeling in the same unceremonious fashion as had been done in the case of Dormido. The Jewish question had become the question of the day owing to Menasseh’s visit. Public feeling had been deeply stirred by it, and Cromwell had placed it in the forefront of his personal solicitude. Some action was necessary. The Committee seems to have discreetly resolved that the wisest course to pursue was one which would absolve it of responsibility, and leave Cromwell and the outside public to fight it out between them. Accordingly it reported that it felt itself incompetent to offer any advice to the Council, and it suggested that the views of the nation should be ascertained by the summoning of a Conference of representative Englishmen who might assist it in framing a report.