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.
The Jews of Toledo—Ibn-Shoshan, Ibn-Alfachar—The Poet Charisi—Sheshet Benveniste—Benjamin of Tudela—The Jews of Provence—The Kimchis—The Communities of Béziers, Montpellier, Lünel, and Toulouse—Persecutions of Jews in Northern France—The Jews of England—Richard I—The Jews of York—The Jews of Germany—Ephraim ben Jacob—Süsskind—Petachya the Traveler—The Jews of Italy and of the Byzantine Empire—Communities in Syria and Palestine—The Jews of Bagdad—Mosul—The Pseudo-Messiah, David Alroy—The Jews of India—Conversion to Judaism of Tartars—The Jews of Egypt.
1171–1205 C. E.
Before the thick clouds of deadly hatred had begun to gather from all sides over the house of Jacob, darkening the horizon without leaving even one span of the blue heaven; before the elements, pregnant with destruction, had been let loose on the head of the community of Israel, crushing it to the earth; before evil in the name of the Deity roused princes and nations, freemen and slaves, great and small, against the weak sons of Judah, and urged men with all the weapons of murder and the stings of scorn against them, to destroy this small body of men; before the haughty Popes, seated on the throne of God as judges over the living and the dead, fastened a badge of scorn upon the garments of Jewish men and women, and exposed them to persecution and mockery from all who encountered them; before fanaticism prepared instruments of torture for the most innocent of men, who were accused of crimes at which they shuddered more than their accusers, the charges being mere pretexts for torture and ill-treatment; before the gross lies about murdered children, poisoned wells, and witchcraft, became generally accepted; before all the nations of Christian Europe excelled the savage Mongolians in barbarity towards the Jews; before their thousandfold sufferings drove the blood from their hearts, the marrow from their bones, and the spirit from their brains, enfeebling them and dragging down their aspirations to grovel upon the earth; in short, before that life of hell began for the Jews, which, in the days of Pope Innocent III, reached its climax under Ferdinand the Catholic of Spain, it is well to glance around upon the circle of scattered Jewish congregations on the face of the globe, and to note their condition in different countries, in order to see what they still possessed, and of what this devilish fanaticism afterwards robbed them. The cruelty which, in the names of two religions, was preached against the Jews, had not yet succeeded in stamping them altogether as outcasts. Whilst in one place they were despised and hated and execrated, in another they were looked upon with respect as citizens and men; whilst in one country they were servants of the imperial chamber, in another they were appointed by princes and municipalities to important offices; whilst in one place they were reduced to the miserable position of bondmen, in another they still wielded the sword, and fought for their independence.
The number of Jews in Asia far exceeded that in Europe, but the general standard of the latter made them superior, so that Europe must be regarded as the chief seat of Judaism. Here true self-consciousness was aroused; here Jewish thinkers strove to solve the difficult problem connected with the position of Judaism and the Jews among the other religions and nations, and of the task allotted to each member of a community. The heart of Judaism still beat in the Pyrenean peninsula. Jewish Spain still held the highest rank, as the intellect had here reached its fullest development. Jews lived in all the five Christian kingdoms which had been formed in this prosperous peninsula, in Castile, Leon, Aragon, Portugal, and Navarre. Only in southern Spain, in Mahometan Andalusia, since its conquest by the intolerant Almohades, there were no Jews, at least none who openly professed their religion. The former seats of Jewish learning, Cordova, Seville, Granada, and Lucena had been devastated; Toledo, the capital of Castile and of the whole country, had taken their place. The Toledo congregation at this time led the van; it numbered more than twelve thousand Jews. The town, resplendent with magnificent buildings, possessed also many splendid synagogues, "with whose beauty none other could compare." Among the Jews of Toledo there were wealthy and cultured men and brave warriors, who were skilled in the use of weapons. Jewish youths practised the art of war, that they might become distinguished knights. Under Alfonso VIII called the Noble (1166–1214), many talented Jews obtained high positions, were appointed officers of state, and worked for the greatness of their beloved fatherland. Joseph ben Solomon Ibn-Shoshan, called "the Prince," was a distinguished personage at the court of Alfonso (born about 1135, died 1204–1205). Learned, pious, wealthy and charitable, Ibn-Shoshan enjoyed the favor of the king, and was probably active in affairs of state. "Favor was bestowed upon him, and goodwill manifested towards him by the king and the grandees." With great liberality he encouraged the study of the Talmud, and erected, in princely magnificence, a new synagogue in Toledo. His son Solomon equaled him in many virtues.
Another highly honored man at Alfonso's court was Abraham Ibn-Alfachar (born about 1160, died after 1223), "crowned with noble qualities and magnanimous deeds. He was exalted in word and deed, an ornament to the king, and the pride of princes." Thoroughly proficient in the Arabic language, Ibn-Alfachar wrote choice prose, and composed well-sounding verses, whose high merit induced an Arab author to make a collection of them; amongst them was a panegyric upon King Alfonso. This noble king once despatched Ibn-Alfachar on an embassy to the court of Morocco, where ruled the Prince of the Faithful, Abu Jacob Yussuff Almostansir. Although this prince of the Almohades continued the intolerant policy of his predecessors, did not permit any Jew to dwell in his kingdom, and even desired to distinguish the Jews who had embraced Islam from the native Mahometans by a prescribed dress, he was obliged to receive the Jewish ambassador of Alfonso with friendliness. When Ibn-Alfachar presented himself for an audience before the vizir of Almostansir, in order to present his credentials, he was conducted through the charming gardens of the palace, the splendor and fragrancy of which delighted the senses. The gardener was, however, as ugly as the gardens were beautiful. To the inquiry of the vizir, how the garden pleased him, Ibn-Alfachar replied, "I would positively have thought it to be Paradise, were it not that I know that Paradise is guarded by a beautiful angel (Redvan), whilst this has as its guardian an ugly demon (Malek), showing the way to the gates of hell." The vizir laughed at this witty comparison, and thought it worthy of being imparted to Almostansir. The latter remarked to the Jewish ambassador, "The ugly doorkeeper was intentionally chosen, in order to facilitate the entrance of a Jew into this Paradise, because a Redvan would certainly never have admitted an infidel."
A kinsman of this favorite of Alfonso, named Juda ben Joseph Ibn-Alfachar, also bore the title of "Prince."
Although the two patrons of Toledo at this period, Ibn-Shoshan and Ibn-Alfachar, were themselves proficient in the Talmud, and encouraged Talmudical learning, yet this study did not flourish in the Spanish capital to the same degree as with Alfassi, his disciples, and in the school of Rashi. Toledo produced no Talmudists of renown. The congregation was compelled for several centuries to obtain its rabbis elsewhere. The Toledans had a greater inclination for science and poetry. They preferred philosophy, meditated deeply upon religion, and defended their belief against doubt. They were the most enlightened of the Spanish Jews.
The aged historian and religious philosopher, Abraham Ibn-Daud, was still alive, and was an ornament to the congregation of Toledo. At length in the year 1180 he fell a martyr in a riot against the Jews, the origin and extent of which are not quite ascertained. It is possible that the very warm friendship displayed by King Alfonso towards the Jews had caused the riot. This prince, who had married an English princess, had an open liaison with a beautiful Jewish maiden, Rachel, who on account of her beauty was called Formosa. This intimacy was not a passing fancy, but lasted for seven years. Concerning this love, a poet sang:
A band of conspirators attacked the fair Jewess on her richly decorated dais, and, in the presence of the king, slew both her and her companions, probably at the instigation of the queen and the clergy. On this occasion, a riot may have broken out against the Jews, in which Abraham Ibn-Daud met his death.
This did not prevent the Jews of Toledo, however, from giving great assistance to Alfonso in his wars against the Moors. When he assembled his immense army in order to subdue the great power of the Almohades, who under Jacob Almansur were again trying to penetrate into the heart of Spain, the Jews poured forth their riches into the coffers of the impoverished monarch so as to enable him to equip his forces. In the battle of Alarcos (19th July, 1195) he was defeated, and the flower of Christian chivalry lay upon the battle-field. The Almohades ravaged fair Castile, and Alfonso was compelled to shut himself up in his capital, where the Jews fought with the other inhabitants, in order to repel the onslaughts of the enemy. They rendered material assistance in compelling the retreat of the foe. The Jews of Castile had a special interest in opposing the Almohades in their attempts to gain possession of the capital, lest they should become subjected to the fanaticism of Islam. They witnessed with joy the withdrawal of the Almohades before the kings of Castile and Aragon, who had entered into a confederacy against them. Through this union, however, the Jews of the kingdom of Leon suffered severely, when the allied forces, ravaging the land, marched through their territory. In this campaign, the oldest Hebrew copy of the Bible in Spain, which had hitherto, under the name Hillali, served as a model for copyists (said to have been written in about the year 600) fell into the hands of the enemy (9 Ab, 1197).
In Aragon, of which Catalonia was a part since the time of Ramon Berengar IV, the Jews lived under favorable conditions, and were able to develop their minds. Alfonso II (1162–1196), a promoter and patron of the Provençal poetry, favored men gifted with word and thought, and amongst such the Jews at this time took a foremost place. Although Saragossa was the capital of Aragon, and since ancient times had a Jewish congregation, yet at this time the city of Barcelona was considered the center of northern Spain, owing to its favorable position by the sea, and the flourishing state of its commerce. Barcelona was pompously termed by the poet Charisi "the congregation of princes and nobles." At its head stood Sheshet Benveniste, philosopher, physician, diplomatist, Talmudist, and poet (b. 1131, d. about 1210). Well acquainted with the Arabic language, he was employed by the king of Aragon in diplomatic services, obtained honors and wealth, and like Samuel Ibn-Nagrela, owed his prosperity to his pen. Like this Jewish prince, Sheshet Benveniste supported men of science and students of the Talmud. The poets laud his noble mind and his liberality in excessive terms. Sheshet Benveniste himself, when in his seventy-second year, composed a song of praise of one hundred and forty-two verses in honor of Joseph Ibn-Shoshan of Toledo.
Next to him in importance in Barcelona stood Samuel ben Abraham Ibn-Chasdaï Halevi (1165–1216), "the fountain of wisdom and the sea of thought," as the poet Charisi extravagantly calls him. He had five learned sons, among whom was Abraham Ibn-Chasdaï, who as the author of a moral romance, "The Prince and the Dervish," and as a translator of philosophical writings, has made a name in the history of literature.
The community of Tudela, a small town on the Ebro, which was the bone of contention between the kings of Aragon and Navarre, had on two occasions courageously fought for equal privileges with the Christian and Mahometan inhabitants, and won them. They possessed a castle of their own for their security. Tudela produced a learned traveler, Benjamin ben Jonah, to whom, not alone Jewish history, but also general history, is indebted for his interesting and authentic information. He traveled through a great portion of southern Europe, Asia and Africa (1165–1173). The object of this journey is not quite known. He was either an itinerant merchant, or a pious man of an inquiring turn of mind in search of traces of a Messianic redemption. He made observations on the peculiarities of each town he visited, and his record of observations has been translated into many modern languages.
Serachya Halevi Gerundi was born (1125, died 1186) in the little town of Gerona in Catalonia. He appears to have possessed considerable knowledge of philosophy, and was probably one of the first in his country to occupy himself with this subject. He devoted himself especially to the Talmud, and being acquainted with the labors of the French and Spanish schools, he united in himself the methods of Alfassi, Rashi, Joseph Ibn-Migash, and Tam. He was a thorough and critical scholar, his mind being at once analytic and synthetic. In his youth, at the age of nineteen, he composed Talmudical works, and annotated the commentaries of Alfassi. Serachya Gerundi appears to have suffered persecution at the hands of the community of Gerona, for which he avenged himself by a satire. He left Gerona, and settled in Lünel, where he possessed many friends, and where he was maintained by a patron of learning. Here he composed various writings against a Talmudical authority of the south of France—Abraham ben David—and here also, at an advanced age, he finished his acute annotations of Alfassi's work on the greater part of the Talmud. These he published under the name of Maor. In this critical work, Serachya displayed his independence of spirit, and everywhere he insists upon a thorough understanding of the Talmud. But this very independence was displeasing to his contemporaries, who were accustomed to hedge themselves in with the decisions of the old authorities. Serachya was far in advance of his age in his view of the Talmud, and accordingly his conclusions were strenuously opposed. Of his life and position nothing further is known.
In the district on the other side of the Pyrenees, in Languedoc or in Provence, the Jews towards the end of the twelfth century lived most happily. Southern France partook of the northern Spanish character in respect of culture and morals. The country was divided into a number of small states, a circumstance which brought out the versatility of its genius, and produced a period of literary excellence, which it never afterwards surpassed. The province belonged at first partly to the French crown and partly it was a fief of the German empire; then it belonged to the King of Aragon as Count of Provence, and later to the Count of Toulouse and St. Gilles; and, lastly, to different vassals, counts, viscounts, and barons.
These were nearly all actuated by broad views of life; they were patrons of the flourishing Provençal poetry, they encouraged learning, and were not bigoted servants of the Church. Besides the nobility, a free and wealthy middle class had arisen, which guarded its independence as its dearest treasure. The intimate relations between the inhabitants and the Moslems and Jews had weakened western prejudices against the Orientals. The breadth of mind of the Provençals, which prompted them to resist the Catholic Church, to disregard papal bulls, to condemn the arrogant clergy, to apply the scourge to the vices of the Roman court, and which gave rise to the sect of the Albigenses, also rendered them capable of appreciating Judaism, and the adherents of that religion. Among the Provençal free-thinkers whom the stern, unbending Catholic Church branded as heretics, there were many who secretly and openly acknowledged that the law of the Jews was better than that of the Christians. Many of the great and minor lords of southern France appointed Jewish officers, and entrusted them with the high office of Chief Bailiff (Bailli), with which, in the absence of the regent, were united the police and judicial powers. The Jews of this country, which was so highly blessed by nature, felt themselves favored, carried their heads high, took the most lively interest in the welfare of the country, and exerted themselves in spiritual concerns with untiring zeal. As the Christians showed themselves ready to adopt innovations, so the Jews of southern France did not accept all tradition with unquestioning faith, but sought to comprehend its import, and test it before the judgment-seat of reason. Although the Jews of Provence manifested great interest in science, they cannot be considered as independent thinkers, able to strike out into new lines of thought within the limits of Judaism. Jewish Provence did not produce a single original mind, not one profound thinker, not one genuine poet, not one distinguished scholar in any branch of knowledge. The Jewish Provençals were faithful disciples of foreign masters, whose conclusions they appropriated, and steadfastly maintained; they were humble workers in science, translators and propagators of foreign intellectual productions. Judaism they loved with all their hearts, although ready to pursue the free investigation of truth. Jewish virtues flourished among them, their houses were hospitably opened to all strangers; they secretly assisted the needy, and practised beneficence at all times. The rich assisted the children of poor parents to receive higher instruction, and gave them books, which were at that time very costly. Especially noteworthy is the loyalty with which the congregations stood by one another, and interested themselves in one another's most intimate concerns. When danger threatened any particular congregation, the others immediately took measures to assist, and avert the impending danger. Their general prosperity was attained partly by agriculture and partly by commerce, which at that time was carried on with Spain, Italy, England, Egypt, and the East, and was in a most flourishing condition.
The principal congregation of southern France was Narbonne; at that time it contained 300 members. Under the rule of the sensible and masculine Princess Ermengarde, the head of the congregation was Kalonymos ben Todros, of an old family, whose ancestor, Machir, was said to have immigrated in the time of Charlemagne. Kalonymos possessed many estates, which were secured to him by absolute grants. At the head of the college was Abraham ben Isaac, who was recognized as an authority, and bore the title of Chief Justice (Ab-beth-din, died, autumn, 1172). He was a man of strictly Talmudical pursuits, and was scarcely affected by general culture. His Talmudical learning, moreover, was wide rather than deep; his disciples, Serachya and Abraham ben David, excelled him even in his lifetime. In Narbonne there lived at this time the Kimchi family, whose achievements cannot be said to correspond to their fame, but who, directly for Narbonne and indirectly for posterity, effected more than the greatest masters. The founder of the family, Joseph ben Isaac Kimchi (flourished 1150–1170), had emigrated from southern Spain to Narbonne, probably on account of the religious persecution of the Almohades. Having a knowledge of Arabic, he translated Bachya's work on moral philosophy, and many others, into pure, fluent Hebrew; composed a Hebrew grammar; wrote a commentary on Holy Writ, the nature of the extant fragments of which precludes regret for the loss of the rest, and composed many liturgical poems, artistic in form, according to the models of neo-Hebraic poetry, then brought to perfection in Spain, but of little poetic value. Joseph Kimchi's merit consists solely in the fact that he introduced the Jewish culture of Spain into southern France, and permanently established the results of Ibn-Ezra's fugitive activity. A polemical work against Christianity, in the form of a dialogue between a believer and an apostate, is also ascribed to him. Whether this work be genuine or not, in any case it belongs to this time and country, and throws a favorable light on the state of morality among the Jews as contrasted with that of the Christian population. The believer maintains that the true religion of the Jews is attested by the morality of its adherents. The Ten Commandments, at least, are observed with the utmost conscientiousness. They adore no being but God, and they take no false oaths. Among them are no murderers, adulterers, nor robbers; whilst Christian highwaymen often rob the weak, hang, or blind them. Jewish children are brought up in purity and fear of God, and no improper word is allowed to escape them. Jewish girls sit modestly at home, while Christians are careless of their self-respect. A Jew practises hospitality towards his brother Jew, ransoms prisoners, clothes the naked, and feeds the hungry. All these virtues of the Jews the Christian antagonist admits as generally known, and only blames the Jews for taking exorbitant interest from Christians. This offense the Jewish speaker palliates by pointing out that Christians also take usury even from their co-religionists, whilst Jews lend to the members of their race without interest.
Joseph's two sons, Moses and David Kimchi, followed in the footsteps of their father. The first, who flourished 1170–1190, was still more mediocre than his father, and this character of insignificance is borne out by his grammatical and exegetical works. The younger brother, David Kimchi (born 1160, died about 1235), was, in truth, the teacher of the Hebrew language to the Jews and Christians of Europe; but if any value is to be set on his grammatical, lexicographical and exegetical works, we must ignore the fact that Ibn-Janach, Moses Ibn-G'ikatilia and Ibn-Ezra lived before him, for with these he cannot bear comparison. David Kimchi did not establish one original point of view. In the introduction to his grammatical work (Michlol) he is honest enough to confess that he only sought to arrange the manifold and detailed results of the labors of his predecessors. At most, it can be said in his favor that he discovered the difference between the long and the short vowels, and thereby threw light on the vowel changes, and, finally, that he preserved in Jewish circles a faint recollection of a simple, sober, literal exegesis in opposition to the extravagant, Agadic, pseudo-philosophical method of exposition.
The old community of Béziers, which had received Ibn-Ezra so honorably, was at this time, under Viscount Raymond Trencaval and his son Roger, in a still more fortunate condition than that of Narbonne. The Jews and Christians of this city did homage to the spirit of free thought. Many of the citizens were Albigenses, and renounced their allegiance to the Pope and the Catholic Church. Nevertheless, following the old custom, the bishop, on Palm Sunday, incited the parishioners against the Jews as murderers of God, and the people, armed with stones, attacked the Jewish houses. But as the Jews, who lived together in one quarter, surrounded by a wall, always took precautions to defend themselves, there was usually a number of broken heads. The chiefs of the Jewish community now moved to abolish this custom, more discreditable to Christianity than to Judaism, and received the consent of the viscount. Bishop William, who was ashamed of so brutal a practice, also agreed that it should be discontinued. On May 2d, 1160, an agreement was concluded according to which every priest who stirred up the people against the Jews should be excommunicated. The Jews in return pledged themselves to pay four pounds of silver every year on Palm Sunday. The assassination of Raymond Trencaval by several conspirators in church on Sunday (5th Oct., 1167), involved the Jews of Béziers in trouble, probably on account of their known attachment to the viscount. Certain citizens preferred accusations against them, and the directors of the congregation were arrested. Not long after, terrible retribution overtook the murderers of the viscount and the accusers of the Jews. Roger procured auxiliary troops from Alfonso, the king of Aragon. These troops suddenly fell upon the citizens, put the men to death, and hanged the ringleaders. Roger spared the Jews on account of their faithful adherence to his father, and besides them only the women and children (Feb. 1170). The viscount Roger, who favored the Albigenses, had Jewish sheriffs, Moses de Cavarite and Nathan. Through this partiality towards the heretics and the Jews, he provoked the anger of the clergy and the Pope, and in consequence suffered a tragic end.
An important Provençal congregation existed in the flourishing commercial city Montpellier, which was the capital of southern France; it had very rich members whose beneficence was much extolled. Like their co-religionists in Béziers, they had a predilection for learning, fostered by the existence of a medical academy in the town and the prevailing freedom of education. The lords of this city were by no means so friendly to the Jews as their neighbors of Béziers. William VIII and his son expressly enjoined in their wills that no Jew should be admitted to the office of sheriff (1178–1201), although the latter owed a Jew, Bonet, a large sum of money. It is not known who was then at the head of the congregation of Montpellier, which produced no men of celebrity, although it possessed learned Talmudists in such plentiful abundance, that people compared its rabbinical school with the Synhedrion of the Temple-Mount (Har).
What is now the little town of Lünel, not far from Montpellier, was, under the lords De Gaucelin, an important city, and the Jewish congregation, consisting of nearly three hundred members, was considered, together with Narbonne, the most important outpost of Jewish Provence. Its Talmudical school, which rivaled that in Narbonne, educated numerous foreign students, who, if needy, were provided with all necessaries by the congregation. At the head of the congregation stood a man who was extravagantly praised by his contemporaries, Meshullam ben Jacob (died 1170), a scholar and wealthy man, whose opinion was held to be decisive in all matters of learning and law. To win his approval was an incentive to an author. "His soul adhered to the religion of his God; wisdom was his inheritance. He illumined our darkness, and showed us the right path." Thus, and still more extravagantly does an independent contemporary describe him. Meshullam encouraged learned men to turn their attention to various branches, especially to translating Arabic works of Jewish authors into Hebrew. He was the first to awaken, among the Jews of Provence, a taste for learning. He occupied the same influential position in southern France that Chasdaï Ibn-Shaprut had occupied in Spain. Meshullam had five learned sons, who illustrated within a small circle the two currents which were to meet in the next generation in keen conflict. One of the sons, Aaron, who flourished from 1170 to 1210, although conversant with the Talmud, had a special predilection for viewing Judaism from its philosophical side; two others, Jacob and Asher, on the other hand, paid homage to that teaching which abhorred the light of reason. Jacob, although rich, led an ascetic life, drank no wine, and on that account received the name of Nazarite. He is described as the first promoter of the new Kabbala. His brother, Asher of Lünel, lived, if possible, a life even more austere, and although equally affluent, he fasted much, and ate no meat.
On the whole, the scientific tendency prevailed in the community of Lünel. It was represented by two men, who have made themselves famous in the history of Jewish literature, viz., the founder of the family of Tibbon, and Jonathan of Lünel. The latter was an important Talmudical authority, who wrote a commentary on Alfassi's Talmudical work. He was none the less fond of science, and was one of the first who insisted that it should take a high place in Jewish studies. Judah ben Saul Ibn-Tibbon (born about 1120, died about 1190) originally came from Granada, and had emigrated to southern France on account of the persecution of the Jews by the Almohades. In Lünel he pursued the profession of physician, and in that capacity made himself so popular, that his services were sought by princes, knights, and bishops, and he was even sent for from across the sea. He knew Arabic thoroughly, and he studied Hebrew with enthusiasm. His learning, however, made him a pedant, he carefully measured every step, and cogitated deeply whether he should take it or abandon it. At regular intervals he examined his important collection of books, which he kept in most perfect order, and was unhappy if he noticed any confusion in them. He set great value upon elegant handwriting and other unessential matters. Ibn-Tibbon was thus, as it were, created for translating. At the instigation of friends, particularly Meshullam of Lünel—with whom, as with Serachya of Gerona and Abraham ben David, he lived on friendly terms—he translated in succession from Arabic into Hebrew, Bachya's "Duties of the Heart," Ibn-Gebirol's "Ethics" and "Necklace of Pearls," Jehuda Halevi's religious philosophical work, Ibn-Janach's important grammatical and lexicographical work, and, lastly, Saadiah's "Religious Philosophy" (1161-1186). His translations, however, show his pedantic character; they are absolutely literal and clumsy; they slavishly follow the Arabic original, and do violence to the Hebrew language. Jehuda Ibn-Tibbon, who knew perfectly well that a conscientious translator must thoroughly understand both languages, as well as the subject-matter of the work, pleaded as an excuse for the stiffness of his translation, the poverty of the Hebrew language.
The second Tibbonid, Samuel, son of Judah (1160–1239), formed a strong contrast to the character of his father; though more gifted than the latter, he was thoughtless, prodigal, and of phlegmatic nonchalance. His father had spent the utmost care on his education, had himself instructed him, and put him under highly-salaried masters. Thus Samuel Ibn-Tibbon studied medicine, the Arabic language, the Talmud, and other cognate departments of knowledge. His fond father also provided him at an early age with a wife, and tried to subject his son to his guardianship and to the rule of his pedantic nature. The latter revolted against his father's despotic rule, cast his exhortations and teachings to the winds, and having asserted his independence, became estranged from his father. He made foolhardy business speculations instead of applying himself to his profession, losing all his money, so that he was finally obliged to appeal to his father for means to keep himself and his family from starvation. His father thought that he was ruined, but Samuel quietly finished his education, and ultimately excelled his father both in skill of translating and in philosophical grasp. He rendered into Hebrew not only works of Jewish authors, but also some of the works of Aristotle; he also wrote a philosophical exposition of Ecclesiastes and a treatise on portions of Genesis. Generally speaking, the chief claim of the Tibbonides to distinction rests on their skill as translators, as that of the Kimchis on their grammatical acumen.
Not far from Lünel, in Posquières, there existed at that time a congregation of forty members. Here was born one of the greatest Talmudists, Abraham ben David (about 1125, died 1198), son-in-law of Abraham ben Isaac of Narbonne. Having been educated under excellent teachers, and being very rich, Abraham (Rabed II) supported a college of his own, which attracted many students from far and near. He provided for the material as well as the intellectual needs of his disciples. Whilst still a youth, he composed Talmudical works of great importance, and at the instigation of Meshullam ben Jacob he wrote a commentary on a part of the Mishna. By nature inconsiderate, and having little respect for the rules of courtesy, he treated those whose writings he refuted in a contemptuous manner. He was a dangerous antagonist. Of the sciences he had no knowledge, nor did he seem capable of grasping the higher conception of Judaism; he even boasted of his ignorance of such things; it was quite sufficient in his eyes for one to be thoroughly conversant with the Talmud. Abraham ben David and Serachya Halevi were the profoundest Talmudists since the death of Tam.
Bourg de St. Gilles, the second capital of Duke Raymond V of Toulouse, had a congregation of a hundred members. This congregation, as well as the others under Count Raymond, whom the troubadours called the Good Duke, lived under most happy conditions, and were promoted to offices of state. Abba-Mari ben Isaac, of St. Gilles, better known through his learned son, was the sheriff of the town. This son, Isaac ben Abba-Mari, who was probably a pupil of Tam, had acquired, from the celebrated master of Rameru, a thorough rather than an ingenious method of studying the Talmud. In his seventeenth year he composed, at the instance of his father, a compendium of certain ritual laws, and later in life summed up all the results of his investigations in the Talmud in a work, entitled "Ittur," upon the rabbinical civil laws and rites.
Raymond VI of Toulouse favored the Jews even more than his father, and promoted them to offices (1192–1222). On this account, and for other like sins, he was virulently persecuted by Pope Innocent III, and ultimately had to take a solemn oath that he would deprive the Jews of their offices, and that he would never appoint any Jews, nor favor them in any way.
Beaucaire (Belcaire), which belonged to the county of Toulouse, also had a large congregation, at the head of which stood Kalonymos, "the Prince." In the flourishing commercial town of Marseilles, which at that time formed an independent state, there lived three hundred Jewish families belonging to two congregations. The minor congregation, the members of which dwelt near the harbor, and probably carried on navigation, or at least engaged in foreign business, had at their head a noble man, Jacob Perpignano (died 1170). The larger congregation had a Talmudical college, over which Simon ben Anatolio presided. In Marseilles also, the Jews were admitted to offices.
The beginning of the last two decades of the twelfth century constituted the boundary line between fortune and misfortune for the Jews of northern France, who were partly subject to the king and partly to the more or less dependent barons. As long as the friendly king, Louis VII, lived, they continued in their happy condition, and were protected from the malevolent attacks of the clergy. Louis would not enforce the resolution of the Lateran Council, that no Jew should keep any Christian nurses or domestics. He asked the Pope, at the request of the Jews, whether this resolution must be strictly construed, and whether the Jews might be allowed to build synagogues. In spite of the papal decision, he exercised so little energy in enforcing this canonical law, that even his son Philip Augustus, in whose favor he abdicated (1169) on account of feebleness, did not feel bound by it. When the Archbishop of Sens insisted on its enforcement, and endeavored to bring into effect several other decisions of the Church, which encroached on the prerogatives of the crown, the young king sent him into banishment. By and by, however, other considerations, not different influences, gained the ascendancy over the not very noble nature of Philip Augustus, at that time only twenty-five years old, prompting him to change his mind about the Jews, and transforming him into one of the greatest Jew-hating kings in history.
Although lord of the whole of France, and feudal suzerain of the mighty king of England, the French king at that time had little land of his own. The small tract of land, Isle de France, with a few scattered provinces, constituted his only inheritance, and the rest of the land was under the dominion of powerful barons. The policy of Philip Augustus aimed at enriching the French crown by the acquisition of landed estates, and by transforming the ostensible vassalage of the barons into a reality. To accomplish this he needed money, above all things, in order to raise troops and to support them. The wealth of the French Jews appeared to him a ready resource, and prompted him to devise a scheme to appropriate it. He had no need for lengthy consideration, for he had only to give ear to the prejudice that prevailed against them, in order to obtain the right to plunder and oppress them. Although the Jews of France were not the only persons who practised usury—for Christians also, in spite of canonical prohibitions, took exorbitant interest—and although it was perhaps only the rich Jews of that country that were usurers, Philip Augustus nevertheless made the Jews one and all responsible for the impoverishment of reckless debtors; and although personally he did not believe that monstrous lie which somehow arose in the twelfth century—whence and on what ground we know not—that the Jews slaughtered Christian children on the Passover festival, and drank their blood, he nevertheless acted as if they were incarnate murderers, so as to have a convenient pretext for exacting and extorting money from them. Even before the death of the old king, Philip Augustus caused all the Jews living on his estates to be seized whilst they were praying in their synagogues, and cast into prison (19th January, 1180). He calculated that the Jews would offer a large ransom for their liberation. When they had collected fifteen hundred marks of silver they were set at liberty. This extortion was only a prelude to further demands. Before the end of the year 1180, the king declared all claims of Jews against Christians to be null and void; but, nevertheless, took care to appropriate a fifth part of the debts of the Christians to the exchequer. A hermit of Vincennes encouraged him, by explaining to him that it was godly work to rob the Jews of their wealth. Philip Augustus was not yet satisfied that he had made the rich Jews beggars, and shortly afterwards published an edict commanding all the Jews in his province to leave it between April and St. John's Day (1181). They were allowed to sell their movable property. Their fields, vineyards, barns and wine-presses, which must have yielded a fine revenue, escheated to the king, and the deserted synagogues were used as churches. That it is untrue that the Jews of France were hated by the people on account of their usury, alleged child-slaying, and other crimes, is proved most decisively by the circumstance that counts, barons, and even bishops strenuously endeavored to turn the king from his purpose, and to induce him to repeal the edict of banishment against the Jews. All their efforts, however, were in vain; young Philip Augustus, who had much of Louis XIV in him, was, in spite of his youth, so obstinate that (as his biographer says) a rock could be shaken more easily than his resolution. And so the Jews of Paris and its environs once more had to take the wanderer's staff, and leave the places where they had lived for many centuries. The offer that they might retain possession of their property if they would submit to baptism, they held as opposed to their profession of faith in the unity of God. Only a few went over to Christianity.
Fortunately for the Jews, the hereditary estate of the king, as mentioned above, was at that time not very large, and the vassals were still independent enough to refuse obedience to the order to expel all Jews from their provinces. They dwelt in the greatest part of France, and even those who had been driven out of the territory of Philip Augustus were allowed to settle among them. The Talmudical College of Paris was closed, but those in the Champagne, where the Tossafists pursued their work, still flourished. The small town of Rameru continued to be the center of study. Here Isaac ben Samuel, of Dampierre (Ri), a great-grandson of Rashi, held his school. He was the chief authority after the death of his uncle Tam. Learned and acute, like his ancestors, Isaac occupied himself with completing Rashi's commentary, with collecting and arranging his notes on the whole Talmud, and supplementing the questions on knotty Talmudic points presented to the Tossafists, and their decisions. It required a profound knowledge of the enormous material of the Talmud to undertake this work, to adjust the most irreconcilable opinions, to discover an inconsistency here, and explain one away there. The story is told that in the college of Isaac the Elder there were sixty learned members, all of whom not only were proficient in the whole of the Talmud, but each one of whom knew by heart and could explain in a masterly manner one of its sixty treatises. Isaac's first collection of the glosses was called "the old Tossafoth." In consequence of the hostile spirit which began to prevail in northern France, through the persecution of Philip Augustus, Isaac's son, named Elchanan, who, although young, had gained renown among the Tossafists, fell a martyr to his religion, in the lifetime of his father (1184).
Some years later (1191) Philip Augustus sent fresh victims to the martyr's grave. In the little town of Bray (on the Seine, north of Sens), which belonged to the county of Champagne, a Christian subject of the king murdered a Jew. The relatives of the murdered man appealed to the countess, and obtained her permission, through rich presents of money, to hang the murderer. By design or accident, the execution took place on the Purim festival, and this circumstance reminded the people of Haman's gallows, and perhaps of something else. As soon as the king had received news of the execution of his subject, in a distorted report, moreover, saying that the Jews had bound the hands of the murderer, crowned him with a crown of thorns, and dragged him through the streets, he hastened to Bray with a force of men, and surrounding the houses of the Jews with guards, offered them the alternative between death and conversion. The congregation did not hesitate a moment, its members bravely determined to kill one another rather than die by the hand of the executioner. Philip caused nearly one hundred to be burnt, and spared only the children under thirteen years. A few days later the king, with blood-imbrued hands, was consecrated as champion of the Cross, and sailed to Syria, to the crusade. The so-called Holy War improved him but little.
All efforts to dislodge that really great hero, Saladin, from Jerusalem and the district belonging to it, had hitherto proved fruitless. Richard the Lion-hearted was compelled to patch up a truce discreditable to the Christians, and the only favor that he obtained was that Christian pilgrims were to be allowed to visit at any time the Church of the Sepulchre in Jerusalem.