The history of the Jews of Medieval England—a complex and multifaceted tale that still remains at the forefront of much academic work of various genres—is one that resonates with a deep-rooted and at times tumultuous nexus with the proximate culture, society, and particularly economic life. This often turbulent reality that shifted continuously with changes in popular, ecclesiastical, and governmental perceptions serves as the background for Suzanne Bartlet's posthumously published concise micro-history of Licoricia of Winchester, a well-connected and wealthy thirteenth-century Jewish businesswoman. In no small terms, the narrative that Bartlet constructs tells the story of not only one single woman and her continuous negotiation with and within medieval English society, but also of the individuals—both Jews and non-Jews—who were connected to her, either through familial relation or economic dependency.

In ten lucid chapters, Bartlet examines Licoricia as a businesswoman, mother, and wife—concentrating on her two marriages to Abraham son of Isaac, and David of Oxford (Chap. 3) as well as on her family—both as a resident of the city of Winchester as well as a figure with a network of connections that touched dozens of communities throughout England. Serving as the guiding principle of the book is the argument that Licoricia and her family's life “reflect(s) the experiences of Jews of medieval England during the century that ended with their expulsion to the continent” (17). Licoricia's children are the subject of two separate chapters (Chaps. 5 and 7), specifically for their work as independent moneylenders, associates, and representatives of the family. Isaac, the eldest child, was intimately involved with Licoricia's affairs and managed them during times of personal upheavals in 1258 and 1260 but retained clients of his own. Licoricia's third son, Lumbard, did not actively participate in the family's business, assuming the surviving records paint an accurate picture. Benedict the Guildsman, Licoricia's middle son, was one of the most successful Jews of thirteenth-century Winchester; like his mother, he straddled the permeable border between Jewish and Christian society (Chap. 7). Dispersed among the chapters about Licoricia's family are discussions of the various violent disturbances that Jews faced during the thirteenth century, such as the Barons' War of 1256–66 (Chaps. 6 and 8) as well as the coin-clipping attacks of the late 1270s (Chap. 9), when hundreds of Jews were arrested and imprisoned, and a large proportion of them hanged, for supposedly enriching themselves by shaving metal off coins.

Bartlet exhibits remarkable comfort with the often dizzying details of economic dependency between the situated Jewish and Christian communities as well as the broader thirteenth-century historical context. At times, however, the contextual narrative seems to overshadow the captivating subject of the study. This in particular is noticeable in her discussion of the coin-clipping incidents of the 1270s; it reads more as a general account than as a discourse about Licoricia's and Benedict's involvement in clipping coins. To be fair, the surviving records detailing Benedict's involvement are quite scarce; in fact, the lack of a pointed and sustained argument may simply be a subjectively semantic point of the reviewer. This concern, however, is representative of a number of striking questions that arise at various points in the book, some of which require explication and clarification.

Methodologically speaking, it seems difficult to sustain the stated underlying principle of the book that Licoricia “reflect(s) the experiences of Jews of medieval England during the century that ended with their expulsion to the continent” in light of Bartlet's description of Licoricia as an extremely well-connected and wealthy woman. According to Bartlet, Licoricia served as the official or unofficial representative of the Jews of Winchester (67), married one of the richest Jews of England, David of Oxford (albeit for only two years), and remained on good terms with the family and court of Henry III (67). In no small way, Licoricia was an exceptional woman with an extraordinary career that was defined by its repeated association with the powerful members of thirteenth-century English society, both Jewish and non-Jewish. By characterizing Licoricia in this manner, Bartlet is correct in drawing a link between Licoricia and the equally powerful Chera of Winchester; both served as respective heads of their families, amassed tremendous wealth, and developed relationships with the ruling family. Yet, the intimation that Licoricia (and Chera for that matter) best reflects the experiences of medieval Anglo Jewry, when in fact she and her family enjoyed privileges not necessarily afforded to others in the Jewish community and may have borne more scorn because of their vaulted economic and social position, seems exaggerated.

Perhaps the most conspicuous shortcoming and subsequent misinterpretation of fact materializes in Chapter 3, Bartlet's analysis of Licoricia's marriage to David of Oxford. Bartlet perpetuates a definitional misconception by equating the terms ketubah and dowry (41, 49) where it seems that she refers to the dowry, and not the additional elements of the ketubah document. This confusion is manifested further when Bartlet writes in a very puzzling statement: “Theoretically, she could carry her Ketubah from each husband with her until she died and then the children of her various marriages could claim their share” (49). This seems like an unnecessary redundancy in light of the ketubah's general stipulation that the wife inherits the dowry and the additional elements of the ketubah. In discussing the background of Licoricia's second marriage to David of Oxford, Bartlet examines the reasons for David's divorce of Muriel, his first wife. She references two takkanot attributed to Rabbenu Gershom—whom she mistakenly states as having penned a book titled The Light of the Exile (55)—the first being that a wife cannot be divorced without her consent; the second that a divorced person cannot remarry as the subsequent nuptials would constitute bigamy (55–56). According to Bartlet, it was the second of these two takkanot that barred David from divorcing Muriel and that he wished to contest by appealing to the king. Leaving aside for the moment the debate as to whether R. Gershom himself enacted these takkanot or whether they were attributed to him only during the twelfth century, Bartlet errs about the accuracy of the second takkanah. As is well known, R. Gershom's far-reaching ban on bigamy concerned two or more concurrent marriages; he made no stipulation outlawing remarriage after a divorce or death of a spouse. The ban on bigamy that Bartlet ascribes to Gershom is closer in fact to various interpretations offered by the medieval Church, specifically concerning those entering ecclesiastical offices.Footnote ¹ Unless otherwise specified by particular rules in specific cases, Jewish law permits remarriage following a divorce. Consequently, Bartlet's argument that David looked to circumvent this second takkanah by petitioning the king for a writ baring enforcement of R. Gershom's supposed edict by the Jewish community should fall away completely.Footnote ²

Bartlet relies on the fairly substantial corpus of published secondary material on the Jewish community of medieval England. But, the bibliography—and in fact the book as a whole—could have been enhanced with reference to selected studies on the Jews of the continent—an addition that could yield some particularly fascinating comparisons between the Anglo Jewish and French communities.

Despite these shortcomings, Bartlet presents a fascinating and detailed micro-history concerning the life of one of the more important but relatively unknown Jewish women of the Middle Ages. The evidence gleaned from the surviving records exhibits the resonating connectivity between Jews and their surrounding elements, a particularly apt portrayal of Jewish life in thirteenth-century England. Indeed Bartlet's exposition of Licoricia of Winchester is a significant resource for the teaching and study of the medieval Anglo-Jewish community.