Chapter XII

PERSECUTIONS DURING THE SECOND CRUSADE AND UNDER THE ALMOHADES.

Condition of the Jews in France--The Second Crusade--Peter
the Venerable and the Monk Rudolph--Bernard of Clairvaux and
the Emperor Conrad--Protectors of the Jews--Persecutions
under the Almohades--Abdulmumen and his Edict--The Prince
Jehuda Ibn-Ezra--The Karaites in Spain--Jehuda Hadassi--
The historian Abraham Ibn-Daud and his Philosophy--Abraham
Ibn-Ezra--Rabbenu Tam.

1143-1170 C. E.

When the greatest neo-Hebraic poet complained, "Have we a home in the West or in the East?" his sensitive heart was probably filled with foreboding concerning the insecurity of his co-religionists. Only too soon was the Jewish race to realize the awful truth that it possessed no home on earth, and that it was only tolerated in the lands of its exile. As long as the intolerant religious principles of the Church and of the Mosque remained inoperative, either by reason of the indifference, or the inertia, or the selfish pursuits of their adherents, the Jews lived in comparative happiness; but when religious hatred was aroused, torture and martyrdom fell upon Israel, and again he was compelled to grasp the wanderer's staff, and with bleeding heart depart from his dearly beloved home. Although the Jews in general, and especially their leaders, the rabbis and sages, were, as a rule, superior to the Christian and Mahometan peoples in devotion to God, in morality, in refinement and knowledge, yet those to whom the earth belonged imagined themselves on a higher level, and with lordly haughtiness looked down upon the Jews as common slaves. In Christian countries they were declared outlaws, because they would not believe in the Son of God and many other things; and in a Mahometan realm they were persecuted because they would not acknowledge Mahomet as the prophet. In one land they were expected to do violence to their reason and to accept fables as sober truths, and in another they were asked to renounce their faith and take in its stead dry formulæ, tinged with philosophy. Both held out the cheerless choice between death and the renunciation of their ancient religion. The French and the Germans rivaled the savage Moors in the energy with which they strove to enfeeble still more the weakest of the peoples. On the banks of the Seine, the Rhine and the Danube, on the shores of Africa and in the south of Spain, there arose simultaneously, as though preconcerted, bloody persecutions against the Jews, in the name of religion, despite the fact that all that was good and divine in the oppressors' creeds owed its origin to this people. Hitherto persecutions of the Jews had been few and far between; but from the year 1146 they became more frequent, more severe, and more persistent. It seemed as if the age in which the light of intelligence had begun to dawn upon mankind desired to exceed in inhumanity the epochs of darkest barbarism. This period of suffering imprinted on the features of the Jewish race that air of suffering, that martyr's look, which even the present age of freedom has not effaced. "The meaning of the prophet," said Ibn-Ezra, "when he cries, 'He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth,' requires no commentary, for every Jew in exile illustrates it. When he is afflicted he does not open his mouth to protest that he is more righteous than his tormentor. He keeps his look directed only towards God, and neither prince nor noble assists him in his distress."

The persecutions that spread simultaneously over Europe and Africa had their sources in catastrophes that occurred in Asia and Africa. Whilst the Christian knights in the new kingdom of Jerusalem and in the neighboring princedoms were sinking into inactivity, the Turkish warrior, Nureddin, who had determined to drive the Christians from Asia, began his attacks upon them. The important city of Edessa fell into his hands, and the crusaders, now at their wits' end, were compelled to implore help from Europe. The second crusade was now preached in France and Germany, and bloodthirsty fanaticism was again aroused against the Jews.

King Louis VII of France, conscience-stricken, took the cross, and with him went the young and frivolous Queen Eleanora, together with the dames of the court, who transformed the camp of the warriors of God into a court of gallantry. The Abbot Bernard of Clairvaux, a truly pious man, of apostolic simplicity of heart, and renowned for his powerful eloquence, energetically exhorted Christians to take part in this crusade, and owing to his influence the troops of pilgrims marching against the infidels increased day by day. This time it was Pope Eugenius III who turned the attention of the crusaders towards the Jews. He issued a bull announcing that all those who joined in the holy war were absolved from the payment of interest on debts owing to Jews. This was an inducement for the numerous debtors of the Jews to participate in the crusade, and was in reality only a veiled permission to repudiate their indebtedness to the Jews. The Abbot Bernard, who at other times disdained to employ unholy means to compass a holy end, was obliged, at the command of the Pope, to preach this repudiation of debts. Another abbot, Peter the Venerable, of Clugny, desired to push the matter still further. He roused King Louis and the army of the crusaders directly against the Jews. He heaped charges upon them, exaggerating their offenses so as to incite the prejudiced monarch to persecute or at least plunder them. In a letter to Louis VII he repeated the sophistries and falsehoods which the marauding mobs of the first crusade had invented in order to palliate their plundering of the Jews in the name of religion.

"Of what use is it," wrote Peter of Clugny, "to go forth to seek the enemies of Christendom in distant lands, if the blasphemous Jews, who are much worse than the Saracens, are permitted in our very midst to scoff with impunity at Christ and the sacrament! The Saracen at least believes as we do that Christ was born of a virgin, and yet he is execrable, since he denies the incarnation. How much more these Jews who disbelieve everything, and mock at everything! Yet I do not require you to put to death these accursed beings, because it is written, 'Do not slay them.' God does not wish to annihilate them, but like Cain, the fratricide, they must be made to suffer fearful torments, and be preserved for greater ignominy, for an existence more bitter than death. They are dependent, miserable and terror-stricken, and must remain in that state until they are converted to the Saviour. You ought not to kill them, but to afflict them in a manner befitting their baseness." The holy man besought the king to deprive the Jews either altogether or in part of their possessions, since the crusading army, which was marching against the Saracens, did not spare its own property and lands, and certainly should not spare the ill-gotten treasures of the Jews. Only their bare life should be left to them, but their money forfeited, for the audacity of the Saracens would be more easily subdued if the hands of the Christians were strengthened by the wealth of the blasphemous Jews. This method of reasoning is certainly consistent; it is the logic of the Middle Ages. King Louis, though well-disposed towards the Jews, could not do less in obedience to the papal bull than allow the crusaders to absolve themselves from their Jewish debts. For the moment the persecution limited itself to the plundering of the rich Jews, who were reduced to the state of their poorer brethren. The friendly monarch and his wise ministers, together with the Abbot Suger, and especially the pious Bernard, who knew how to control men's minds, would not permit a universal bloody persecution.

Affairs took a different course in Germany, and particularly in the cities along the Rhine, whose congregations had scarcely recovered from the wounds of the first crusade. Emperor Conrad III was powerless; the citizens who had as a rule taken the part of the Jews during the first crusade, and had afforded them protection, were now, at the beginning of the second crusade, prejudiced against them. A French monk, named Rudolph, left his monastery without the permission of his superior, and his fiery eloquence kindled the fanaticism of the German people against the Jews. He believed that he was accomplishing a holy work in securing the conversion or annihilation of the infidels. From town to town, from village to village, Rudolph traveled preaching the crusade, and he inserted in his addresses an exhortation that the crusade should begin with the Jews. Matters would have been much worse for the German Jews on this occasion, had not Emperor Conrad, who at first felt an antipathy to the extravagant feeling engendered by the crusade, looked after their safety. In the lands which were his by inheritance, he set aside the city of Nuremburg and certain other fortresses as cities of refuge for them, where the hand of the infuriated crusaders could not reach them. He had no jurisdiction over the territories of the princes and prelates, but he appears to have urged them all to extend their powerful protection to the Jews. But the word of the emperor had but little weight. In August, 1146, were sacrificed the first victims of the persecution stirred up by Rudolph. Simon the Pious, of Treves, whilst on his way home from England, tarried in Cologne. He was seized by the crusaders as he was about to go on board a ship, and refusing to be baptized, he was murdered and his body mutilated. Also a woman named Minna, of Speyer, who had suffered the terrible tortures of the rack, remained steadfast to her faith. These occurrences prompted the Jews dwelling by the Rhine to look round for protection. They paid immense sums to the princes, to be permitted to live in the fortresses and castles for safety. The Cardinal Bishop Arnold of Cologne gave them the castle of Wolkenburg, near Königswinter, and allowed them to defend themselves with arms. Wolkenburg became a refuge for many of the congregations of the district. As long as the Jews remained in their places of refuge they were safe; but as soon as they ventured forth, the Christian pilgrims, who lay in ambush for them, dragged them away to be baptized, killing those that resisted, after subjecting them to inhuman treatment. The prelates of the Rhine were, however, disgusted with the preaching of the crusade as carried on by the monk Rudolph, nor did they approve of the massacres of the Jews, particularly as these gave rise to dissensions and feuds, and Rudolph even emboldened the populace to disobey the bishops. The Archbishop of Mayence, Henry I, who was at the same time chancellor and prime minister to the emperor, had admitted into his house some of the Jews who were pursued by the mob. The riotous crowd forced its way in, and murdered them before his very eyes. The archbishop then addressed himself to the most distinguished representative of Christianity of that time, Bernard of Clairvaux, who had more power than the Pope. He depicted to him the outrages that Rudolph had fomented in the Rhine country, and prayed him to exercise his authority. Bernard, who strongly disapproved of the doings of Rudolph, willingly gave the archbishop his support. He despatched a letter to the Archbishop of Mayence, intended to be read in public. In this letter he energetically condemned the agitator; he called Rudolph an outlawed son of the Church, who had fled from his cloister, had been faithless to the rules of his order, maligned the bishops, and who, in opposition to the principles of the Church, preached to simple-minded Christians, murder and massacre of the Jews. The Jews ought, on the contrary, to be carefully spared. The Church hoped that at a certain time they would be converted _en masse_, and a prayer for that especial purpose had been instituted for Good Friday. Could the hope of the Church be fulfilled if the Jews were altogether annihilated? Bernard sent another letter written in the same spirit to the clergy and people of France and Bavaria, wherein he expressly admonished them to spare the Jews.

But the letters of Bernard made no impression upon Rudolph and the misguided mob; they were bent upon the complete destruction of the Jews, and on all sides lay in wait for them. The Abbot of Clairvaux accordingly found it necessary to protest in person against the slaughter of the Jews. When at about this time he made a journey into Germany in order to induce Emperor Conrad to take part in the crusade, he tarried in the towns on the Rhine in order to counteract the fiendish plans of Rudolph. He addressed him in very severe terms, and prevailed on him to desist from preaching the massacre of the Jews, and to return to his monastery. The deluded people murmured against the actions of Bernard, and had he not been protected by his sacred calling, they would have attacked him. Rudolph disappeared from the scene, but the poisonous seeds scattered abroad by him worked the destruction of the Jews. As the bulk of the people became inflamed by the sermons of Bernard on behalf of the crusade, its fury against the Jews increased. The people were more consistent than the saint of Clairvaux and the bishops, and their logic could not be shaken. They said, "If it is a godly deed to slay unbelieving Turks, it surely cannot be a sin to massacre unbelieving Jews." At about this time the lacerated limbs of a Christian were discovered at Würzburg, and the crusaders who were assembled there believed, or pretended to believe that the Jews had butchered the man. They took this pretext to attack the congregation at Würzburg. The Jews of this city were under the protection of Bishop Embicho, and dwelt in tranquillity in the city, not deeming it necessary to seek a place of refuge. The terror which seized them was therefore the greater, when they were suddenly attacked by a crowd of crusaders (22 Adar, 24 Feb., 1147). More than twenty met martyrs' deaths, among them the distinguished and gentle Rabbi Isaac ben Eliakim, who was slain whilst reading a holy book. Some were cruelly maltreated, and left as dead, but were afterwards restored to life, and carefully tended by compassionate Christians. The humane Bishop of Würzburg assigned a burial-place in his own garden for the bodies of the martyrs, and sent the survivors into a castle near Würzburg. The lot of the German Jews became still more lamentable when the emperor Conrad with his knights and army joined the crusading expedition, and the mobs who were left behind, unchecked by the presence of the emperor, were at liberty to commit fearful outrages (May, 1147).

The savage spirit of murder in the name of piety was rapidly communicated from Germany to France, on the assembling of the crusaders in the spring. In Carenton (Department de la Manche) there was a determined battle between the Christian pilgrims and the Jews. The latter had gathered in a house, and defended themselves against invasion. Two brothers, with the true courage of Frenchmen, fought like heroes, dealing wounds right and left, and slew many crusaders, until their foes, infuriated by the loss of so many men, found an entrance into the court, attacked the Jews in the rear, and massacred them all. Among the martyrs of this time in France was a young scholar named Peter, a pupil of Samuel ben Meïr and Tam, who, in spite of his youth, had already distinguished himself among the Tossafists. At no great distance from the monastery of Clairvaux, under the eyes of the Abbot Bernard, the savage bands of the crusaders continued undismayed to carry on their bloody work. They fell upon the Jewish congregation at Rameru on the second day of Pentecost, forced their way into the house of Jacob Tam, who was the most distinguished man among the European Jews on account of his virtues and his learning, robbed him of all his possessions, tore to pieces a scroll of the Law, and dragged him into a field, intending to put him to death by torture. As Tam was the most famous man among the Jews, the crusaders desired to avenge on him the wounds and death of Jesus. They had already inflicted five wounds on his head, and he was about to succumb, when fortunately a knight with whom he was acquainted happened to pass along the road. Tam still retained sufficient consciousness to implore his help, which the knight promised to afford, on condition that he receive a fine horse as a reward. The knight then told the band of assassins to hand the victim over to him, and he would either prevail on him to be baptized, or else return him to their hands. Thus was saved the man who was the leader and model of the German and French Jews (8 May, 1147). Through the influence of Bernard no Jew hunts took place in France, except at Carenton, Rameru and Sully. In England, where since the time of William the Conqueror many Jews had settled, who were in communication with the French congregations, there were no persecutions, as King Stephen vigorously protected them. The Jews of Bohemia, however, again suffered severely when the crusaders marched through their country, 150 of them meeting with martyrs' deaths. Directly the French army of the crusaders had marched through Germany, and had advanced beyond its borders, the Jews were able to leave their places of refuge in the castles, and were not molested. Even those Jews who had weakly submitted to forced baptism could now return to their ancient faith. A certain priest who was as pious as he was humane, but whose name unfortunately has been lost, gave them very great assistance. He led those Jews who had been forcibly baptized into France and other countries, where they remained till their former adhesion to the Church was forgotten. They then returned to their homes and their religion.

On the whole, the fanaticism of the second crusade claimed fewer Jewish victims than the first. This was partly owing to the protection afforded to the Jews by the spiritual and temporal dignitaries, and also because the participation of the German Emperor and the King of France did not permit such crowds of crusading marauders as had accompanied the expedition of William the Carpenter and Emicho of Leiningen. But the Jews were compelled to pay a high price for the shelter which was granted them, the price being their whole future. The German Emperor from this time forward was regarded by the Jews as their protector, and he considered himself as such, demanding in return the fulfilment of certain duties. The German Jews, who had hitherto been as free as the Germans or Romans, henceforth became the "servants of the chamber" (servi cameræ) of the Holy Roman empire. This hateful name at first only signified that the Jews enjoyed immunity from all attacks like the imperial servants, and had to pay a certain tax to the emperor for the protection thus granted to them, and that they had to perform extraordinary services. But in later times the word was employed in its original, odious sense, and the Jews were looked upon as bondmen and dependent slaves. The German Jews who were on the point of raising themselves from a state of barbarism, were thus hurled into the depths of an abyss of degradation, from which they were enabled to raise themselves only after a lapse of six hundred years. For this reason, their intellectual efforts bore the stamp of degeneracy, their poems consisted only of elegies and lamentations, which, like their speech, were tasteless and barbaric, and even in the study of the Talmud very little work of note was accomplished. The German Jews were pariahs in history till the end of the eighteenth century. In France, on the other hand, where other political and social conditions prevailed, Jewish culture was vigorous enough to put forth blossoms.

Whilst the Jews of France and Germany still stood in dread of the crusaders, a persecution broke out in the north of Africa, which was of longer duration, and produced different results. It was stirred up by a man who combined the characters of philosopher, reformer and conqueror, and manifested a peculiar political and religious enthusiasm. Abdallah Ibn-Tumart, who came from the northwest of Africa, while living in Bagdad, was inspired by the moral enthusiasm of the mystic philosopher Alghazali. On his return home to Africa, he preached to the simple Moorish tribes simplicity of living and dress, hatred of poetry, music and painting, and war against the Almoravide kings, who were devoted to a life of refinement. On the other hand, Ibn-Tumart rejected the Sunnite teachings of Mahometan orthodoxy, and the literal interpretation of the verses of the Koran, which affirmed that God had the feelings of man, and was affected by the same emotions as man. He obtained a large following among the Moors, and founded a sect, whose members, from the fact that they maintained the true unity of God without any corporeal representations (Tauchid), were termed Almovachides or Almohades (Unitarians). This sect acknowledged Ibn-Tumart as the Mahdi, the heaven-sent Imam of Islam. With the tocsin of rebellion and the sword of war against the reigning Almoravides, Ibn-Tumart spread his religious and moral reformation in the northwest of Africa. After his death, his disciple Abdulmumen succeeded to the leadership of the Almohades, and was recognized as the Prince of the Faithful (Emir al-Mumenin). He achieved victory after victory, and in his onward progress he destroyed the dynasty of the Almoravides, and became monarch of the whole of northern Africa. Abdulmumen, however, was a fanatic, and as he had extirpated the Almoravides with fire and sword, not only for political reasons, but also because they professed another belief, he would not suffer any other religion in his kingdom.

When the capital, Morocco, after a long and obstinate siege, fell into the hands of Abdulmumen, the new ruler summoned the numerous Jews of the town, and addressed them in the following terms: "You do not believe in the mission of the prophet Mahomet, and you think that the Messiah, who has been announced to you, will confirm your law, and strengthen your religion. Your forefathers, however, asserted that the Messiah would appear at the latest about half a century after the coming of Mahomet. Behold! that half a century has long passed, and no prophet has arisen in your midst. The patience with which you have been treated has come to an end. We can no longer permit you to continue in your state of unbelief. We no longer desire any tribute from you. You have only the choice between Islam and death." The despair of the Jews at this stern proclamation was very great. It was the second time, since they had come under Mahometan rule, that the mournful alternative was offered to them, either to surrender their life or their faith. Moved by the representations that were made to him, Abdulmumen modified the edict by allowing the Jews to emigrate. He also allowed them a certain time to dispose of such property as they could not take with them. Those who preferred to remain in the African kingdom were obliged to accept Islam under penalty of death. Those, however, to whom Judaism was precious left Africa, and emigrated to Spain, Italy and other places. The majority of them, however, ostensibly yielded, and took the disguise of Islam whilst hoping for more favorable times (1146).

The persecution was directed not only against the Jews of Morocco, but against all who lived in northern Africa, and as often as the Almohades captured a city, the same edict was promulgated. The Christians also suffered through this persecution, but as Christian Spain stood open to receive them, and they might expect to be received with open arms by their co-religionists, they were more steadfast, and departed from the country in large bodies. Synagogues and churches alike were destroyed throughout the land of the Almohades, which extended by degrees from the Atlas mountains to the boundary of Egypt, and no traces remained of the former Jewish and Christian residents.

Although many north-African Jews had accepted Islam, there were but few who became real converts. Nothing was demanded of them except to profess belief in the prophetic mission of Mahomet, and occasionally to attend the mosque. In private, however, they scrupulously practised the Jewish rites, for the Almohades employed no police spies to observe the actions of the converts. Not only the common people, but also pious rabbis maintained this outward semblance of belief, soothing their conscience with the reflection that idolatry and denial of Judaism were not demanded of them, as they were simply required to utter the formula that Mahomet was a prophet, which in no way suggested idolatry. Some consoled themselves with the hope that this state would not long continue, and that the Messiah would soon appear, and deliver them from their misery.

Under the disguise of Moslems, the Maghreb Jewish scholars even pursued the study of the Talmud with their usual zeal, and assembled at their colleges the studious youth, who at the same time were compelled to engage in the study of the Koran. But truly conscientious and pious men were unable to play this double part for any length of time. They threw off the hateful mask, and openly professing Judaism, suffered martyrdom, as happened in Fez, Segelmessa, Draï and other towns.

The victorious Abdulmumen was not content with the possession of all Barbary; he cast longing eyes upon the fair land of Andalusia, thinking it an easy task to wrest it from the power of the Almoravide and Christian rulers, and annex it to his realm. The conquest of the Mahometan territory in southern Spain proved easy on account of internal dissensions. Cordova, the capital of Andalusia, fell into the power of the fanatical Almohades in June, 1148, and before the end of a year the greater part of Andalusia was in their hands. The beautiful synagogues which the piety, the love of splendor, and the refined taste of the Andalusian Jews had built, fell a prey to the destructive frenzy of fanaticism. The aged rabbi of Cordova, the philosopher Joseph Ibn-Zadik, witnessed this sad downfall of the oldest and most distinguished congregation, but died soon after (at the end of 1148 or the commencement of 1149). The renowned Jewish academies at Seville and Lucena were closed. Meïr, the son and successor of Joseph Ibn-Migash, went from Lucena to Toledo, and with him all those able to escape. The remainder followed the example of the African Jews, yielding for the moment to coercion and pretending to acknowledge Islam, though in private they observed their ancient faith, till they found an opportunity of openly professing Judaism. Women and children, together with the property of the exiles, fell into the hands of the conquerors, who treated feeble captives as slaves.

In this dark epoch, when the center of Judaism was destroyed, a favorable change of fortune created a new center. Christian Spain, which had developed great power under the emperor Alfonso Raimundez (1126-1157), became a refuge for the persecuted Andalusian Jews, and Toledo, which had been made the capital of the realm, became a new focus, whence the rays of Jewish science emanated. This favorable change was due to the work of a man who deserves to be ranked with Ibn-Shaprut and Ibn-Nagrela. The wise and philanthropic Emperor Alfonso Raimundez had a Jewish favorite in the person of the still youthful Jehuda Ibn-Ezra, the son of that Joseph Ibn-Ezra, who, together with his three brothers, is celebrated in Judæo-Spanish literature. On taking possession of the border fortress of Calatrava, between Toledo and Cordova (1146), the emperor, probably as a reward for his bravery, appointed Ibn-Ezra commander of the place, and invested him with the dignity of a prince (Nasi).

Jehuda Ibn-Ezra was the guardian-angel of his unfortunate co-religionists, who were fleeing before the fury of the victorious Almohades. He assisted them to find homes and employment in Christian Spain, and used his riches in ransoming captives, in clothing the naked and feeding the hungry. The congregation of Toledo was very much increased by the immigrant Jews. Meïr Ibn-Migash opened an academy for the study of the Talmud, and numerous pupils attended it. Jewish learning under the protection of the Christian king, now flourished in Toledo after its expulsion from the Mahometan kingdom.

Jehuda Ibn-Ezra rose still higher in the favor of the Spanish emperor, and was appointed steward of the imperial palace (about 1149). This Jewish prince, in his zeal for Rabbanism, hurried into a persecution which forms a blot on his fair fame. The Karaites who had settled in Christian Spain, and who towards the end of the eleventh century had suffered persecution at the hands of a Rabbanite, Joseph Al-Kabri, had since that time again become a numerous body, and strove to regain their ancient splendor. They brought the large literature of their Eastern and Egyptian leaders into Castile, and were thereby strengthened in their deep antipathy to Rabbinical Judaism. At this time a Karaite of Constantinople, Jehuda ben Elia Hadassi, who styled himself "a mourner for Zion" (ha-Abel), renewed the battle against the Rabbanites, and wrote a comprehensive book under the name of "Eshkol ha-Kofer," in which he discussed with great warmth the oft-disputed differences between the two Jewish schools (1149), and rekindled the flame of hostility. Jehuda Hadassi wrote with intense passion, but employed harsh language, alphabetical acrostics, and a wretched, monotonous rhyme. This hostile work was probably introduced into Castile, and re-opened the conflict. Instead of having this polemical book confuted by some able Rabbanite, Jehuda Ibn-Ezra called in the aid of the secular arm, and besought the permission of the emperor Alfonso to persecute the Karaites. He did not consider that the dormant fire of persecution, if once rekindled, would sooner or later blaze around the head of the persecutors. With the emperor's permission, Jehuda Ibn-Ezra humbled the Karaites so sorely that they were never again able to raise their heads. Their fate is not known, but they were probably banished from the towns wherein Rabbanites dwelt (1150-1157). The favorable condition of the Jews in Castile did not last long. After the death of the emperor and of his eldest son, the King of Castile (1158), Jehuda Ibn-Ezra lived to see troublous times. During the minority of the Infante Alfonso a bitter civil war broke out between the noble houses of De Castro and De Lara, in which the other Christian kings took part; the fair land was devastated, and the capital, Toledo, became the scene of bloody fights. The Christian monarchs were not powerful enough to defend their borders against the continual irruptions of the Almohades, and were obliged to leave this task to the fanatical orders of knights, which were now again called into active service. The Spanish Jews, unlike their German and French brethren, did not remain mere indifferent spectators during these political struggles and wars, but took the liveliest interest in all that was going on, joining one or the other of the opposing sides.

Meanwhile Jewish learning was in nowise impaired by the unfavorable conditions which existed in almost every land of the exile, but still took its place in the vanguard of culture. Two men, both from Toledo, added to its luster; these were Abraham Ibn-Daud and Abraham Ibn-Ezra, who, dissimilar in character, aims, and in their life's history, were yet alike in their love for Judaism and for learning. Abraham Ibn-Daud Halevi (born about 1110, died a martyr 1180), who was a descendant on the maternal side of Prince Isaac Ibn-Albalia, was not only well versed in the Talmud, but was also conversant with all the branches of learning then cultivated. He also engaged in the study of history, both Jewish and general, as far as in its neglected state during the Middle Ages it was accessible to him. This branch of learning was but lightly esteemed by the Spanish Jews. He was a physician, and was a diligent explorer of the realm of science. Ibn-Daud possessed an intelligent, clear mind, which enabled him to penetrate with precision into the knowable, and to illumine the obscure. With brilliant perspicuity he gave expression to the most difficult ideas, and made them comprehensible. He centered all his attention upon the highest problems of the human intellect, and was at a loss to conceive how any one could spend his life in trifling pursuits or in the study of philology, mathematics, theoretical medicine, or law, instead of directing his mind to the holiest task of life. This task, according to the view of Ibn-Daud, consists in philosophical study, because its object is the knowledge of God, and herein lies man's superiority over the world of created things. He emphasized this point strongly in opposition to a certain class of his co-religionists in Spain who had a positive dislike for philosophy. Ibn-Daud was well acquainted with the reason for their mistrust of independent research. "There are many in our time," he remarked, "who have dabbled a little in science, and who are not able to hold both lights, the light of belief in their right hand and the light of knowledge in their left. Since in such men the light of investigation has extinguished the light of belief, the multitude think it dangerous, and shrink from it. In Judaism, however, knowledge is a duty, and it is wrong to reject it."

The aim of all philosophical theory is the practical realization of moral ideals. Such ideals Judaism presents. None of his predecessors had so definitely and clearly expressed this important thought. Morality produces positive virtues, a healthy family life, and based upon this, a sound constitution of the state. According to this view, all the religious duties of Judaism may be divided into five classes. The first class inculcates the true knowledge and the love of the One God and a purified belief in Him. The second class treats especially of justice and conscientiousness, the chief of all virtues, of forgiveness, kindness, and the love of enemies, all of which have their origin in humility. The third class of precepts treats of the relation of the head of the family to his wife, children, and servants, according to the principles of right and affection. The fourth division, which comprises a large group, prescribes the relation of the citizen to the state and to his fellow-citizens; it inculcates the necessity of loving one's neighbor, of honesty in commerce, and care for the weak and suffering. There is, finally, a fifth class of laws, such as the sacrificial and dietary laws (laws of the ritual), whose purpose is not easily comprehended. These five groups of duties are not equal in importance, faith taking the highest position and the ceremonial laws the lowest, and therefore the prophets also often gave greater prominence to the former. Starting from different premises, Ibn-Daud arrived at a conclusion differing from that of Jehuda Halevi. According to the latter, the pure ritual ordinances constitute the essence of Judaism, whereby the prophetic nature of man is to be kept alive, but for Ibn-Daud they are only of second-rate importance.

Abraham Ibn-Daud was, however, not only a religious philosopher, but also a conscientious historian, and his historical labors have proved of greater service to Jewish literature than his philosophical studies. The newly-aroused conflict with the Karaites of Spain led him to inquire into their history. After the death of the emperor Alfonso, and the subsequent downfall of his favorite, Jehuda Ibn-Ezra, these people again raised their heads, and re-commenced issuing their polemical writings. Thereupon Ibn-Daud undertook to prove historically that rabbinical Judaism was based on an unbroken chain of traditions which began with Moses, and extended to Joseph Ibn-Migash. To this end he compiled the history of Biblical, post-exilic, Talmudical, Saburaic, Gaonic, and rabbinical times in a chronological order (1161). He entitled this work, which was written in Hebrew, "The Order of Tradition" (Seder ha-Kabbalah). The information which he imparts concerning the Spanish congregations is of the greatest value; he obtained his knowledge from the original labors of Samuel Ibn-Nagrela, and from independent historical researches. His account is brief, but accurate and authentic, and much may be read between the lines. His Hebrew style is flowing, and not altogether wanting in poetic coloring.

A still more erudite, comprehensive, and profound mind was that of Abraham ben Meïr Ibn-Ezra of Toledo (born about 1088, died 1167). He was a man of remarkable ability, conquering with equal skill the greatest and the smallest things in science; he was energetic, ingenious, full of wit, but lacking in warmth of feeling. His extensive reading in all branches of divine and human knowledge was astonishing; he was also thoroughly acquainted with the literature of the Karaites. His, however, was not a symmetrically developed, strong personality, but was full of contradictions, and given to frivolity; at one time he fought against the Karaites, at another, he made great concessions to them. His polemical method was merciless, and he aimed less at discovering the truth than at dealing a sharp blow to an antagonist. His was a spirit of negation, and he forms the completest contrast to Jehuda Halevi, to whom he is said to have been closely related. Ibn-Ezra (as he is called) combined in his person irreconcilable contrasts. His clear vision, his sharp, analytical perception, his bold research, which was so far advanced as almost to bring him to Pantheism, existed side by side with a veneration for authority, which led him, with fanatical ardor, to accuse independent thinkers of heresy. His temperate mind, which examined into the origin of every phenomenon, did not prevent him from wandering in the twilight of mysticism. Though filled with trust in God, into whose hands he quietly resigned his lot, he believed in the influence of the stars, from which no man could possibly withdraw. Thus Ibn-Ezra was at once an inexorable critic and a slave of the letter of the Law, a rationalist and a mystic, a deeply religious man, and an astrologer. These contradictions did not mark successive stages in his life, but they controlled the whole course of his existence. In his youth he toyed with the muses, sang the praises of distinguished persons, and feasted with Moses Ibn-Ezra. He was likewise acquainted with Jehuda Halevi; they often conversed brilliantly upon philosophical problems, and it is clear that they did not agree in their methods of thought.

Although Ibn-Ezra was acquainted with the artistic forms of Arabic and neo-Hebraic poetry, he was, nevertheless, no poet. His verses are artificial, pedantic, uninteresting, and devoid of feeling. His liturgical poetry, produced at all periods of his life, bears the same impress of sober contemplation. It consists of wise maxims or censorious admonitions; there is no outpouring of religious feelings which absorb the soul, and which characterize fervent prayer. In the religious poetry of Ibn-Ezra there is lacking what is so manifest in the compositions of Ibn-Gebirol and Jehuda Halevi; the spirit of sublime joyousness which expresses itself in inspired hymns, the exalted majesty which aspires to the highest, and attains it. He was, however, inimitable in wit and pointed epigrams, in riddles and satire. His prose is, moreover, exemplary, and it may even be said that he created it. He abstains from over-embellishment and empty phraseology.

Though Ibn-Ezra holds no high place in poetry, he is entitled to the first rank as a thorough expositor of the Holy Scriptures. As such, he displayed great tact, since he was guided by the strictly grammatical construing of the text. He was a born exegetist. He was able to bring to bear his wide knowledge and brilliant ideas upon the verses of Holy Writ without being compelled to connect them logically. His restless, inconstant mind was not capable of creating a complete and systematic whole. He had not the power of methodizing Hebrew philology, and of synoptically arranging his material. In Biblical exegesis, however, he was thoroughly original. He raised it to the degree of a science, with fixed principles, so that he was for a long time without a rival in this department of learning. It is worthy of remark, that he never felt called upon to cultivate the field of Biblical interpretation whilst at home, although he possessed most remarkable talent for this work. As long as he remained in Spain he was only known as a clever mathematician and astronomer, not as an exegete. In general, he produced nothing of a literary character in his native land, except perhaps some Hebrew poems of a religious or satirical character.

Ibn-Ezra was induced by straitened circumstances to leave the war-stricken and impoverished city of Toledo. He was never possessed of much wealth. In his epigrammatic way, he made merry over his misfortunes, which condemned him to poverty: "I strive to become wealthy, but the stars are opposed to me. If I were to engage in shroud-making, men would cease dying; or if I made candles, the sun would never set unto the hour of my death."

As he was unable to earn his livelihood at home, he started on his travels (about 1138-1139) accompanied by his adult son Isaac. He visited Africa, Egypt, and Palestine, and communed with the learned men of Tiberias, who prided themselves on the possession of carefully written copies of the Torah. As he could find no rest anywhere, he journeyed further, towards Babylonia, visiting the city of Bagdad, where a Prince of the Captivity, with the consent of the Caliph, again exercised a sort of supremacy over all Eastern congregations. During the course of this extensive journey, Ibn-Ezra made many careful observations, and enriched the vast stores of his mind.

It is difficult to understand why, on his turning homewards from the East, he did not again visit his native land. In Rome, he at length found the long-desired rest (1140). His appearance in Italy marks an epoch in the development of culture among the Italian Jews. Although they enjoyed freedom to such a degree that the Roman community was not bound to pay any taxes, the Jews of Italy still remained in a low condition of culture. They studied the Talmud in a mechanical, lifeless manner. They had no knowledge of Biblical exegesis, and neo-Hebraic poetry for them consisted of wretched rhymes. Their model of poetry was the clumsy verse of Eleazar Kalir, which they considered inimitable. Their sluggish minds were prone to all the superstition of the Middle Ages. What a contrast to them did the Spanish traveler present, with his refined taste for art, his healthy ideas, and his philosophical education! The time of his arrival in Rome was favorable to the revival of the higher culture. Just at this time there arose a bold priest, Arnold of Brescia, who asserted that the popes did not rule according to the spirit of the Gospel: that they ought not to hold temporal sovereignty, but should live as true servants of the Church, and act with proper humility.

An earnest spirit of inquiry and a striving after freedom arose in the home of the papacy. The people listened eagerly to the inspired words of the young reformer, threw off their allegiance to the papacy, and declared their state a republic (1139-1143). Just at this time, Ibn-Ezra lived at Rome. It is most probable that youths and men gathered in large numbers in order to hear the great traveler, the deeply learned Spanish scholar, who knew well how to enchant them by his terse, lively, striking, and witty conversation.

In Rome the first production of Ibn-Ezra, who had now reached his fiftieth year, appeared, an exposition of the Five Megilloth. His exegetical principles were made evident in his earliest efforts. Everything that was obscure disappeared before his clear vision, unless he purposely shut his eyes so that he might not see what was right, or else pretended not to see at all. Was it the doubt that was agitating his mind, or was it his weakness of character which made him shrink from rudely dispelling the dreams of the multitude? It cannot be gainsaid that Ibn-Ezra often denies the truth, or conceals it in such a manner that it is recognizable only by men of equal intellect.

Great as were Ibn-Ezra's exegetical talents, they did not enable him to comprehend and thoroughly to analyze doubtful Biblical passages so as to bring them into some sort of connection as an organic whole, or as a beautifully constructed work of art. His mind was more directed to individual, detached questions, his restless thought was never concentrated on one thing, but always had a tendency to digress to other subjects only slightly connected with the original matter. Ibn-Ezra was the first to convey to the Roman Jews a conception of the importance of Hebrew grammar, of which they were completely ignorant. He translated the grammatical works of Chayuj, from Arabic into Hebrew, and wrote a work under the title of "The Balance" (Moznaim), the only interesting part of which is the well-written historical introduction reviewing the labors of his predecessors in the sphere of Hebrew philology.

In the summer of 1145 he was at Mantua, and here he composed a new grammatical work upon the niceties of the Hebrew style (Zachot). In this book he charged those with heresy who deviated from the Massoretic authorities. This conduct appears the more incongruous, since he himself, though secretly, took still greater liberties with the text of the Bible. He remarks of the grammatical works of Ibn-Janach, that they ought to be thrown into the fire, because the author suggests that more than a hundred words in the Bible ought to be read or understood in another than the accepted manner. His condemnatory judgment was of such effect that the important productions of Ibn-Janach remained unknown to the following generations, and inquirers were compelled to quench their thirst at broken cisterns.

He does not appear to have stayed long in Mantua, but to have betaken himself thence to Lucca, where he dwelt for several years, and gathered a circle of disciples about him. Here he occupied himself very much with the study of astronomy, drew up astronomical tables, and paid great attention also to the pseudo-science of astrology, which was diligently studied by Mahometans and Christians. He wrote many books under different titles on this subject (1148).

After recovering from a severe illness, he determined to write a commentary on the Pentateuch, a self-appointed task from which he shrank on account of its great difficulty. He was now in the sixty-fourth year of his age (1152-1153). But there are no signs of old age to be found in the work, which bears the stamp of freshness and youthful vigor. The exposition of the Pentateuch by Ibn-Ezra is an artistic piece of work, both in contents and in form. The language is vigorous, flowing and witty, the interpretation profound, temperate, and bearing the impress of devoted work. His rich store of knowledge, his extensive reading and experience enabled him to make the Book of books more intelligible, and to scatter the misty clouds in which ignorance and prejudice had enshrouded it.

In his introduction he describes in a very striking and clever manner the four customary and unsuitable methods of interpretation which he desires to avoid. Confident of success, he puts himself above his predecessors, and completes the task which he had set himself, to fix the natural meaning of the text. Ibn-Ezra, by means of his commentary to the Pentateuch, became the leader of the school of temperate, careful, and scientific expositors of the Bible, and held the first place among the few enlightened minds opposed to the obscurity of Agadic explanation, of which Rashi was the leading exponent. For although he denounced as heretical every interpretation that differed from the Massora, yet rationalists considered him their leading authority, and even unbelief looked to him for support. In fact, Ibn-Ezra gives us abundant reason for reckoning him among such men as Chivi Albalchi, Yitzchaki, and others, who called the authority of the Pentateuch into question. In a vague and mysterious way, he suggested that several verses in the Torah had been added by a later hand, and that whole passages belonged to a later period. It is difficult to know whether he was in earnest in his scepticism or in his firm belief. In Lucca, Ibn-Ezra wrote his brilliant commentary on Isaiah (1154-1155), and other less important works. After the completion of his commentary on the Pentateuch (1155), Ibn-Ezra left Italy, and went to the south of France, which, on account of its connection with Catalonia, possessed more of the Spanish-Jewish culture than the north of France, Italy, or Germany. In Jewish history Provence forms the dividing line between two methods, the strictly Talmudical, and the scientific and artistic. The Jewish Provençals worked actively according to both methods, but did not attain any degree of excellence in either, merely remaining admirers and imitators. Ibn-Ezra introduced a new element into this circle. In the town of Rhodez he lived several years (1155-1157), and wrote his commentaries to the book of Daniel, the Psalms, and the Twelve Prophets. His fame became wide-spread, and attracted admirers. The greatest rabbinical authority of the time, Jacob Tam, sent him a poem of homage. Ibn-Ezra was very much surprised, and replied with an epigram, half complimentary, half insulting. His love of travel led him, now in his seventieth year, to foggy London, where he found a liberal Mæcenas, who treated him with affection. Here he composed a kind of philosophy of religion, written, however, with such extreme carelessness and haste, that it is absolutely impossible to follow his train of thought. On the whole, Ibn-Ezra accomplished as little in this branch of learning as in general philosophy.

After this work on the philosophy of religion, while still in London, he wrote a defense of the Sabbath, which is interesting on account of its introduction. He begins by telling a dream which he had had, and in which the Sabbath in person handed him a letter. Herein the Sabbath complains that a disciple of Ibn-Ezra had brought writings into his house in which the Biblical day was said to begin in the morning, and that consequently the evening before the Sabbath possessed no sanctity. The apparition thereupon commanded him to take up the defense of the Sabbath. He awoke from his dream, and by the light of the moon read the impious writings which had been brought to him, and, in truth, found therein an assertion that the Biblical day began in the morning and not in the evening. This unorthodox doctrine, which, it may be remarked, was propounded by the grandson of Rashi, the pious Samuel ben Meïr, aroused Ibn-Ezra; and he felt himself in duty bound to controvert it with all his might, "lest Israel be led into error." In pious wrath he writes, "May the hand of him who wrote this wither, and may his eyes be darkened." The defense, which consists of the interpretation of Biblical verses and of astronomical explanations, bears the name of "The Sabbath Epistle." Although he was in prosperous circumstances whilst in London, and had many pupils, he left that city after a short stay. In the autumn of 1160 he visited Narbonne, and later on (1165 or 1166) he was again at Rhodez, where in his old age he revised his commentary to the Pentateuch, and abridged it, retaining the most essential portions, and finally composed his last book, a grammatical work (Safah Berurah). His vigor and freshness of intellect, which he retained even to the end of his life, are wonderful; his last productions, like his first, bear the imprint of vivacity, confidence, and youthful power. Besides his exegetical, grammatical, astronomical, and astrological writings, he was also the author of several works on mathematics. It appears that in his closing years Ibn-Ezra longed to return to his native land, and began his homeward journey. When, however, he reached Calahorra, on the borders of Navarre and Aragon, he died, and it is said that on his death-bed he wittily applied a Bible verse to himself: "Abraham was 78 years old when he escaped from the curse of this world." He died on Monday, 1st Adar (22d January), 1167. He left many pupils and a talented son, who, however, did not add glory to his name.

The Jewish community in France at this time also possessed a highly gifted man, who not only concentrated within himself the chief characteristics of the French school, and thus became an authority for several centuries, but who also partook of the spirit of the Jewish-Spanish school. Jacob Tam of Rameru (born about 1100, died 1171) was the most distinguished disciple of the school of Rashi. Being the youngest of the three learned grandchildren of the great teacher of Troyes, Tam could not have acquired anything from his grandfather, whom he knew only in the early years of his childhood. However, he attained so high a degree of excellence in the study of the Talmud that he outshone his contemporaries, and even his elder brothers, Isaac and Samuel (Rashbam). The interminable paths and the winding roads of the Talmudical labyrinth were familiar to him, and he had a rare knowledge of the whole region. He united clearness of intellect with acuteness in reasoning, and was the chief founder of the school of the Tossafists. None of his predecessors had revealed such profound knowledge and so marvelous a dialectical ingenuity in the sphere of the Talmud. Although not in office, and engaged in business, he was esteemed the most famous rabbi of his time, and his renown traveled as far as Spain and Italy. Questions upon difficult points were sent to him exclusively, not only from his own land, but also from southern France and Germany; and all the rabbinical authorities of the period bowed to him with the deepest reverence. In his youth he was surrounded by pupils who regarded him with veneration as their ideal. He was so overwhelmed with the task of answering questions sent to him that he sometimes succumbed. The fanatics of the second crusade, who almost deprived him of life, robbed him of all his possessions, and left him nothing more than his life and his library. Nevertheless, he composed his commentary to the Talmud just at this troubled period. He was a man of thoroughly firm religious and moral character, in which there was only one blemish: he took usury from Christians. Indeed, he, to a certain extent, disregarded the rigid Talmudic laws on usury, in contravention of the practice of his grandfather.

Jacob Tam is almost the only member of the school of northern France who overcame the partiality for Talmudical study, and displayed great taste for the diversified studies of the Spanish Jews. He studied their art of Hebrew versification, and wrote liturgical prayers and secular poems in a metrical form. He corresponded with Ibn-Ezra, the representative of Jewish-Spanish culture, and, as related above, exchanged poems with him. Poetry led Tam, who did nothing superficially, to a thorough course of inquiry into the Hebrew language, and he became so far advanced in the knowledge of grammar that he was able to act as arbiter in the grammatical controversy between Menachem ben Saruk and his opponent Dunash.

The large numbers of learned rabbis in northern France and in Germany, and the universally acknowledged authority of Tam, brought about a new departure, which for the first time made its appearance in the post-Talmudical period. Under the presidency of the Rabbi of Rameru, the first rabbinical synod assembled for the purpose of deciding important questions of the day. Probably the councils which had been convened in France by the fugitive popes, Pascal, Innocent II, Calixtus, and Alexander III, gave this suggestion to the rabbis. The rabbinical synods were not attended with that pomp which transformed such councils into theaters in which vanity and ambition are fostered. Those who took part in the proceedings met at some appointed place frequented by Jews, such as Troyes and Rheims, without any splendor or ceremony, and without ulterior motives or political intrigue. The decisions of the rabbinical synods included not only religious and communal matters, but also questions of civil laws, as the Jews still possessed their own jurisdiction.

It is most probable that it was at one of these synods of the rabbis, in whose minds the persecution of the second crusade was still fresh, that it was decreed that no Jew should purchase a crucifix, church appurtenances, vestments of the mass, church ornaments or missals, because such an act might involve the whole community of Jews in great danger. At a great synod, in which took part one hundred and fifty rabbis from Troyes, Auxerre, Rheims, Paris, Sens, Drome, Lyons, Carpentras, from Normandy, Aquitania, Anjou, Poitou, and Lorraine, headed by the brothers Samuel and Tam, and by Menachem ben Perez of Joigny, Eleazer ben Nathan of Mayence, and Eleazer ben Samson of Cologne, the following resolutions were passed: (1) That no Jew should summon one of his co-religionists before the courts of the country unless both parties agreed to it, or unless the accused refused to appear before a Jewish court of law. (2) Any damages which might accrue to the defendant through this _ex parte_ litigation at a non-Jewish court of law should be paid by the complainant, according to the assessment of seven elders of the congregation. (3) That no person should apply to the secular authorities for the office of president or provost, or obtain the office by stealth, but that the president shall be elected in an open manner by the majority of the members of the congregation. A ban of excommunication was pronounced against all who transgressed these and other decisions of the synod; no Jew should hold intercourse with such transgressors, nor partake of their food, nor use their books or utensils, and not even accept alms from them. The edict of excommunication against informers and traitors was also revived at this synod.

At a synod held in Troyes, over which Tam presided, all those were threatened with excommunication who dared find fault with any bill of divorce after it had been delivered to the wife. Hyper-critical or wicked men often criticised a bill of divorce after it had been granted, causing the divorced parties much annoyance. Other decisions were made by the synods, and these possessed the force of law among the French and German Jews. Thus it was decided that the ordinance of Gershom for the prevention of polygamy could only be abrogated by a hundred rabbis from three different provinces, such as Francia, Normandy, and Anjou, and only for the most weighty motives. The rabbis did not, like the Catholic prelates, use this power of the synod against the people, but in accordance with the feeling of the nation and for the welfare of the community. Hence their decisions once made did not require frequent renewal.

In his old age, Tam witnessed a bloody persecution of the Jews in his vicinity, in Blois, which is memorable not only on account of the severity with which the martyrs were treated, but especially for the lying accusation, then for the first time brought against them, that they used the blood of Christians at the Passover. It was a base intrigue which kindled the fire at the stake for the innocent.

A Jew of Blois was riding at dusk towards the Loire in order to water his horse. He there met a Christian groom, whose horse shied at a white fleece which the Jew wore beneath his cloak, and growing restive, refused to go to the water. The servant, who was well aware of the Jew-hating character of his master, the mayor of the town, concocted a story which served as ground for an accusation. He asserted that he had seen the Jewish horseman throw a murdered Christian child into the water. The mayor bore a grudge against an influential Jewish woman named Pulcelina, who was a favorite of his lord, Count Theobald, of Chartres, and took this opportunity of revenging himself. He repeated the lie about the murder of a Christian child, and the charge read: "The Jews crucified it for the Passover, and then threw it into the Loire." Count Theobald thereupon commanded that all the Jews should be put into chains, and thrown into prison. Pulcelina alone, for whom Theobald entertained a particular affection, remained unharmed. Relying upon this, she quieted the fears of her suffering co-religionists with the assurance that she would prevail on the Count to release them. But soon the imprisoned Jews learned that there was no hope of human aid.

Pulcelina, on account of the affection shown for her, had incurred the bitter enmity of Isabelle, the wife of the Count, and she planned the destruction of the Jews. She had a watch set over Pulcelina, and prevented her from meeting the Count. The Jews had but one glimmer of hope: an appeal to the notorious avarice of the Count. He had sent a Jew of Chartres to ask what sum they were willing to pay in order to be acquitted of this charge of murder. Thereupon they consulted with friendly Christians, and it was arranged that one hundred pounds of ready money, and one hundred and eighty pounds of outstanding debts--probably the whole wealth of the small community--would be sufficient. At this point, however, a priest took part in the proceedings, and addressing the Count with warmth, besought him not to treat the matter lightly, but to punish the Jews severely in case the accusation against them was well founded. But how could any one ascertain the truth, seeing that the whole charge rested merely upon the statement of the groom, who could be said to have seen no more than a body thrown into the river? In the Middle Ages such doubts were readily solved. The water test was applied. The servant was conveyed to the river in a boat filled with water, and as he did not sink, the Count and the whole of the Christian population were firmly convinced that his statements were really true. Count Theobald issued an order condemning the entire Jewish congregation at Blois to death by fire. When they were brought out to a wooden tower, and the fagots around them were about to be kindled, the priest begged them to acknowledge Christianity, and thus preserve their lives. They nevertheless remained steadfast to their faith, and were first tortured, and then dragged to the stake. Thirty-four men and seventeen women died amid the flames whilst chanting the prayer which contains the confession of faith in One God (Wednesday, 20 Sivan--26 May, 1171), Pulcelina dying with them. A few Jews only, through fear of death, accepted Christianity. The Christians, relying on the water test, were firmly convinced that the Jews had rightly deserved death at the stake, and the chronicle narrates in terse fashion: "Theobald, Count of Chartres, caused several Jews of Blois to be burnt, because they had crucified a Christian child at the celebration of their Passover, and had thrown its body into the Loire."

When the news of the martyrdom of the Jews reached Tam, he decreed that the day should be observed as a strict fast and a day of mourning. The congregations of France, Anjou, and the Rhine country, to whom the great teacher sent letters of request, willingly obeyed his decrees. This fast day, in memory of the martyrs of Blois, at the same time commemorates the beginning of the utterly false and groundless fabrication that the Jews use blood on their Passover, which in the course of half a century was the cause of the death of hecatombs of victims. This decree was the last public act of Tam, for a few days afterwards he died (Wednesday, 4th Tamuz--9th June). One of his pupils, Chayim Cohen, remarked that if he had been at the burial, he would have assisted in the final disposition of the body in spite of the law that a descendant of Aaron may not touch a corpse, because for so holy a man the sanctity of a priest may be laid aside. Rabbi Tam concludes the series of creative minds of the French school, just as Ibn-Ezra marks the end of the original element in the Spanish school. There now arose a personage who completely reconciled both schools, and with whom a clearly marked transformation in Jewish history commenced.