Isidore of Seville

Isidore of Seville was probably born about 560, in Cartagena, Spain. His devout parents were both members of influential families that were involved in the conversion of the Visigoths to Catholicism from Arianism. The upbringing provided by his parents inspired Isidore and his siblings to enter the religious life, all of whom became saints.

He was educated at the liberal arts Cathedral school at Seville, learning the trivium and quadrivium. He mastered classical Latin and learned some Hebrew and Greek. Records are scarce about his early life and whether he ever joined a monastery, but in 619 he declared anathema harassing a monastery or monks. When his brother Leander, bishop of Seville, died in 600 or 601, Isidore was named his successor. He set about to eradicate any remaining traces of Arianism among the Visigoths, and was largely successful. He presided over a couple synods and a Council of Toledo.

His influence on the following centuries came more from his writings than his efforts against heresy. One was the De fide catholica contra Iudaeos, ("On the Catholic Faith against the Jews"). Like Augustine of Hippo, Isidore recognized the importance of the Jews because of their role in the Second Coming of Christ. In the Fourth Council of Toledo, however, he advocated removing children from the parents of "Crypto-Jews": Jews who were hiding their Judaism by acting as Christians. His argument was that the parents had probably had the children baptized as part of their subterfuge, and so educating the children as proper Christians was appropriate. (The Summa Theologica of Aquinas in the 13th century would state "it was never the custom of the Church to baptize the children of Jews against the will of their parents.")

He also wrote Historia de regibus Gothorum, Vandalorum et Suevorum ("History of the Kings of the Goths, Vandals and Suevi"), covering from 265 to 624.

He was the earliest Christian writer to try to summarize the knowledge of the world. His encyclopedic work, the Etymologiae, compiled his own thoughts with pieces from numerous Roman handbooks and miscellanies. It was so extensive (20 volumes with 448 chapters total)—one bishop described it as "practically everything that it is necessary to know"—that some of the works he drew from were no longer thought to be necessary to be copied and preserved.

The Etymologiae deserves its own treatment, which I will give it tomorrow.

John of Garland

John of Garland (c.1180 - c.[at least] 1252) was an English grammarian and poet. (He wrote a poem about a recording demon.) Despite his English origin, he spent most of his life in France, first in Paris in 1202 to study, then at the University of Toulouse.

He left Toulouse around 1232 when the Cathars re-asserted themselves and university professors stopped being paid. He fled to the University of Paris, where Roger Bacon heard him lecture. It was this time in Paris that gave him his surname: he explains it is from the Rue Garlande in the neighborhood of the University.

There are over two dozen of his writings known (there are a few titles we know of, but have no extant copies). One was his Dictionarius (shown here), which was not a dictionary as we know it, but a textbook that attempted to teach Latin to French students at the University of Paris. Some credit Garland for the origin of the modern word "dictionary."

Besides works of instruction, he wrote poetry such as the Epithalamium beatae Mariae Virginis (“Bridal Song of the Blessed Virgin Mary”) and his account of the crusade against the Cathars, De triumphis ecclesiae (“On the Triumphs of the Church”). His hostility toward heresy was extended to Jews. To quote an author who wrote about this topic:

Although he never denied the possibility that conversion to Christianity could redeem the Jews, he thought it unlikely they would come over to the Catholic faith or remain steadfast in the religion. His invective was extreme by the standards of the time but was influential in that it appeared in many of his pedagogical works for adolescents and young men at the universities. [Journal of Medieval History, Vol.48, Issue 4]

Despite his time in France, his numerous writings were very popular in England, and were printed and re-printed in the 14th and 15th centuries.

Curiously, there was a second John of Garland who lived and wrote about the same time; this one was a music theorist, and will be our next topic. 

The Ritual Slap

In Matthew 5:39, Jesus tells his followers "But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also."

In the ritual of knighthood, after the girding on of the new knight's sword, he receives a hard slap "so that he will remember what he is promising and the great burden he must carry and the great honour he is taking through the Order of Chivalry" (to paraphrase Ramon Llull's Book of the Order of Chivalry).

The blow or slap to the cheek was a part of many rituals.

The kings of Babylon—including Nebuchadnezzar himself—would submit themselves on the fourth day of the Babylonian new year to being struck on the cheek, reminding them of the importance of humility. [link] A priest in the Mesopotamian Akitu festival would slap the king and have him kneel before the statues of the god Marduk, to remind him that the gods are more powerful than kings. [link] 

Some believe Jewish tradition includes a slap at times, with an added "Mazel Tov," as this writer tells. It is a token slap, not hard. Here, however, it is argued that it does not originate in the Torah and should not be considered Jewish tradition. "Official" or not, it still happens, apparently.

Benvenuto Cellini in his autobiography tells of his father striking him a hard blow specifically in order to cement in his memory the image of a salamander seen in the fire.

The Roman Catholic sacrament of Confirmation involved a light slap on the cheek in order to show the willingness of the confirmed to "suffer for their faith." The blow on the cheek appears in medieval liturgical books. It was officially removed from the ceremony in 1971.

The practice of using a light blow to the cheek to signify a change in a person's status—reminding them of humility, elevating them to knighthood or Catholic adulthood, etc.—has existed from ancient times through medieval and into modern times. Is a common origin likely? Did the Babylonian and Mesopotamian idea of the slap denoting humility inspire Judaism and lead to the New Testament saying, and did that get carried through the Middle Ages as part of not only knighthood but also confirming a Christian's standing as an adult? We can't be certain.

What we can be certain about is the ritual of knighthood, which was explained in detail. We'll look at that next time.

Starting the Third Crusade

Personalities and politics prevent progress. When Barbarossa received letters from the Holy Land asking for help in fighting Muslims, he refused because of a dispute he was having with the Archbishop Philip of Cologne.

The conflict was not unique to them. We saw it when Charlemagne was first crowned on Christmas Day 800, during the Investiture Controversy, and with Becket, to name just a few turbulent times in European history. Who had ultimate authority, pope or emperor? Philip of Cologne had plenty of authority as archbishop, with money flowing to him through the feudal system.

He wanted more, however, and started buying up the lands of his vassals and selling them to others for profit. His fiefdom was held from the emperor, Frederick I Barbarossa; in fact, his was the largest feudal territory under Frederick. Philip never openly challenged Frederick, but his growing economic power and control over land was a cause for concern. Frederick also annoyed Philip by giving market privileges to the cities of Aachen and Duisburg that would have cut into the economic power of Cologne. This "Cold War" made Frederick reluctant to leave for the Middle East for the length of time a Crusade would take.

Fortunately, the two made peace with each other on 27 March 1188 after a council in Mainz. Philip pledged his support of Frederick, and Frederick "took up the Cross." But that led to another issue for Frederick: in 1175, Frederick had made an alliance with Saladin. Now Frederick had to send a message to Saladin, informing him that their alliance was over.

There was another problem, faced by all Crusades: how to finance it? As have many European rulers over centuries, Frederick turned to the Jews. "Crusade fever" more often than not led to persecution of any non-Christian, and the Jews had suffered massacres connected to the First and Second Crusades. On the eve of Frederick's reconciliation with Philip, the Jews of Mainz were being threatened by a mob. Frederick sent Marshal Henry of Malden to disperse the mob, after which the chief rabbi met with Frederick. An imperial edict followed, threatening equal punishment for anyone who maimed or killed a Jew. Frederick also partially financed the Crusade by a tax on the Jews of Germany.

Sadly for Frederick, he would not survive the Crusade. We will see his end tomorrow.

Godfrey of Bouillon

Godfrey (c.1060 - 18 July, 1100) was the second son of Eustace II, Count of Boulogne, and therefore was not in line for much inheritance. His godfather, however, was Godfrey the Hunchback, Duke of Lower Lorraine. The Duke had no children, and named Godfrey his heir. The old Duke died in 1076, leaving Godfrey the duchy--if he could keep it.

Lower Lorraine was an important buffer between France and Germany, but that made it important to a lot of people. In 1076, Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV (of the Investiture Controversy) wanted there Lower Lorraine for his son, confiscating it and leaving Godfrey with Bouillon and the land around the cities of Antwerp and Breda. Godfrey's land was also being nibbled at by his aunt Matilda of Tuscany, his cousin Albert III of Namur, and a couple others. His brothers, Eustace and Baldwin, supported him, and eventually he won the Lower Lorraine back by 1087.

Having a larger territory made it possible to gather a larger force to join the First Crusade, which set off in August 1096. Godfrey mortgaged his estates to the bishops of Liège and Verdun, and he and his brothers led a group of 40,000 overland to Constantinople.

"Crusade fever" sparked a new wave of antisemitism. While passing through Mainz, word went out that Godfrey had vowed to avenge the Crucifixion by eliminating all Jews. Emperor Henry prohibited this, and one report (written 50 years later) says Godfrey relented after the Jewish communities of Mainz and Cologne each paid him 500 marks (1 mark=8 ounces of either gold or silver).

The army reached Jerusalem in June 1099 (after many other events and encounters). On 14-15 July, they got over the walls using siege towers made from lumber from Italian ships, intentionally dismantled for the purpose. Godfrey was one of the first to enter the city. They had left home three years earlier, but they had set foot in Jerusalem (after conquering other towns along the way), and could claim success.

The next step was to determine how to rule the new Christian kingdom of Jerusalem. Godfrey was chosen to rule (after Raymond of Toulouse, the oldest and most experienced warrior of the Crusade had turned it down), and chose to be Calle Defender of the Holy Sepulchre rather than king. Among other acts, Godfrey endowed the Jerusalem hospital.

What we know of the Crusades comes to us from various chronicles. They do not always agree, and their general reliability must always be examined very carefully. Tomorrow we'll look at a couple accounts of the First Crusade.

Benjamin of Tudela

I wrote a post about Benjamin of Tudela (1130-1173) back in 2012, but there is a lot more to him. His Masa'ot Binyamin (Travels of Benjamin) details eight years of traveling, and gives western scholar greater insight than we otherwise would have into Jewish (and other) inhabitants east of the Mediterranean. He frequently notes the mutual respect found in mixed communities of Jews and Muslims.

Here is a sample from early in his book (parasang is a Persian unit of distance of about 4 miles):

From Montpellier it is four parasangs to Lunel, in which there is a congregation of Israelites, who study the Law day and night. Here lived Rabbenu Meshullam the great rabbi, since deceased, and his five sons, who are wise, great and wealthy, namely: R. Joseph, R. Isaac, R. Jacob, R. Aaron, and R. Asher, the recluse, who dwells apart from the world; he pores over his books day and night, fasts periodically and abstains from all meat. He is a great scholar of the Talmud. At Lunel live also their brother-in-law R. Moses, the chief rabbi, R. Samuel the elder, R. Ulsarnu, R. Solomon Hacohen, and R. Judah the Physician, the son of Tibbon, the Sephardi. The students that come from distant lands to learn the Law are taught, boarded, lodged and clothed by the congregation, so long as they attend the house of study. The community has wise, understanding and saintly men of great benevolence, who lend a helping hand to all their brethren both far and near. The congregation consists of about 300 Jews—may the Lord preserve them.

All in all, he visited about 300 cities and many Jewish communities. His book contains one of the earliest descriptions of the ancient site of Nineveh. He also writes about the Al-Hashishin, the order of assassins who lived in the mountains of Persia and Syria. Maybe it would be interesting to look into them a little more tomorrow.

You can read his book at Project Gutenberg.

Jerusalem Hospital

The Hospitallers were nicknamed thus because they were founded by members of the First Crusade who joined together to protect a hospital built at the Benedictine monastery of Saint John the Baptist. That hospital and monastery were in Jerusalem, in a section of the Christian Quarter called Muristan. In fact, "Muristan" comes from the Islamic Bimārestān, meaning "hospital." The hospital in question, however, built in 1023, was not the hospital for which Muristan is named.

The name Muristan appears much earlier, due to a hospital built by Abbot Probus about 600CE at the orders of Pope Gregory I. This was built to treat ill pilgrims who made the trek to the Holy Land. We should note that this is long before any Crusades to "liberate"—actually, "conquer" would be more accurate—the Holy Land. Muslims, Jews, and Christians all managed to coexist through many periods of time—though not always, as you'll see. About 614CE, a Persian army invaded, killing Christians and destroying their structures, including the hospital.

Jump ahead 200 years, and Charlemagne in 800 (after being crowned Holy Roman Emperor) revived Probus' hospital and expanded it, adding a library (Charlemagne was a great supporter of learning, as you can read about in a 2013 post.) Unfortunately, in 1009, Caliph al-Hakim bi-Amr Allah (sometimes called "the mad caliph" or the "Nero of Islam") destroyed the hospital as well as thousands of other buildings.

Which brings us up to 1023, when merchants from Amalfi and Salerno requested of Caliph Ali az-Zahir the opportunity to rebuild the hospital. It was granted, which brings us back to the Hospitallers several decades later, and the incarnations of the hospital are complete.

But there is a postscript. During excavations for a restaurant, he original structure was discovered and explored between 2000 and 2013 by the Israel Antiquities Authority. At its heyday, between 1099 and 1291, it was 150,000 square feet and could accommodate up to 2000 patients. Evidence exists that it served kosher food to Jewish patients, and that it also housed orphans, many of whom joined the Hospitallers. Bones from horses and camels found suggest it was also used as a stable. Part of a vaulted roof will be incorporated into the restaurant, and so the first home of the Hospitallers lives on in some small fashion.

But what about the "mad caliph" who destroyed a hospital and the kind caliph who let one be built? Would you believe they were father and son? Sometimes the apple does fall far from the tree, which we'll go into tomorrow.

Sharia Law in the Middle Ages

Christians and Jews living in Muslim-controlled lands in the Iberian Peninsula were subject to Sharia Law...to a point. Sharia (sharī'ah) in Arabic refers to God's immutable divine law, as opposed to fikh, secular interpretation of the law. The word appears exactly once in the Koran, defined as "way" or "path." It is used as the Arabic translation of the word torah in a 10th-century translation of the Torah.

The teaching of the law was not dissimilar to what we saw in medieval England. Arabic Madrasahs were similar to the English Inns of Court. The Latin qualification licentia docendi ("license to teach") was identical to the meaning of the Islamic ijazat al-tadris wa-l-ifta. (Note: the Latin phrase could be abbreviated "ld" but this is not the origin of LLD, Doctor of Laws.)

Islamic law studies had different statuses: faqih was a Master of Law, mufti was a professor of legal opinions, and mudarris was a teacher. These parallel the Medieval Latin terms magister, professor, and doctor. The mufti and the professor could express their opinion on what the law meant—even if they were wrong.

Sharia drew distinctions between men and women, Muslims and non-Muslims, free people and slaves. In many situations a woman's worth was considered half that of a man. A husband's financial obligations, however, gave wives some protection against divorce and following poverty. Women could be plaintiffs or defendants in Sharia courts, without having to rely on a male representative. A Muslim man could marry a Christian or Jewish woman, and she was allowed to worship at her own church/synagogue.

Non-Muslims were considered dhimmi, which literally means "protected person." This status was given to Jews and Christians, who were "People of the Book" (the book being the shared Old Testament). They had certain privileges—although in many cases "permissions" might be more accurate—and certain obligations. Dhimmi paid the jizya, a tax on non-Muslims residing in Muslim-controlled countries. If you were not a dhimmi but were, say, a pagan, you were not required to pay the jizya; you were required to convert to Islam or face death. (Later, dhimmi status was applied to pagans and many more types, such as Zoroastrians, Sikhs, Hindus, Jains, and Buddhists.

This is obviously the briefest of looks at Sharia law and how it might affect folk in the Middle Ages. I think it's time to head north. Tomorrow I'll talk about the above-mentioned Inns of Court.

James I of Aragon

James I of Aragon (2 February 1208 - 27 July 1276) reigned longer than any Iberian monarch. The Iberian Peninsula contained several different political entities; besides being King of Aragon, Count of Barcelona, and Lord of Montpellier, James was eventually also King of Majorca, and even later King of Valencia.

He agreed with Louis of France to not try to reclaim the Cataln lands to the north that France had taken from James' father, Peter II of Aragon; in return, he prevented France from trying to push south into the County of Barcelona.

A great patron of the arts and learning, he wrote (actually, dictated) the first autobiography of a Christian king, Llibre dels fets (Catalan: "Book of Deeds").

In 1263, he presided over the Disputation of Barcelona, a debate on the identity of the Christian Messiah between a converted Jew, Pablo Christiani, and a Jewish rabbi, Nachmanides. On the question "Is the Messiah a divine or human being?" Nachmanides said:

"[... it seems most strange that... ] the Creator of Heaven and Earth resorted to the womb of a certain Jewish lady, grew there for nine months and was born as an infant, and afterwards grew up and was betrayed into the hands of his enemies who sentenced him to death and executed him, and that afterwards... he came to life and returned to his original place. The mind of a Jew, or any other person, simply cannot tolerate these assertions. If you have listened all your life to the priests who have filled your brain and the marrow of your bones with this doctrine, and it has settled into you because of that accustomed habit. [I would argue that if you were hearing these ideas for the first time, now, as a grown adult], you would never have accepted them." [The Disputation at Barcelona. p. 19. ISBN 0-88328-025-6]

Even though Christiani and the Dominicans claimed the victory, James was so impressed with Nachmanides' answers that he gave him 300 gold coins, telling him he had never heard "an unjust cause so nobly defended." James even attended the synagogue in Barcelona on the Sabbath after the Disputation, addressing the congregants, an event likely unique in Medieval Europe.

Rather than have the Talmud destroyed, James ordered the removal of passages that seemed offensive to Christians, creating a commission of the bishop of Barcelona and some Dominicans to oversee the censorship. One of the Dominicans, Ramón Martí (Raymond Martini), did not want the Talmud destroyed, because he claimed many passages in it confirmed the truth of Christianity. But don't think Martini was sympathetic to Judaism: he wrote two anti-Jewish books.

After the Disputation, Nachmanides wrote an account (see the passage above), but this account got him in further trouble. I'll finish talk of disputes and the Talmud with a brief bio of Nachmanides tomorrow.

Book Burning

The rounding up and burning of the Talmud and other important Jewish works, and the Disputation of Paris, in France in the early 1240s were not the only events of their kind. Western civilization had a tradition of harassing Jews by denying them their sacred and important texts.

Emperor Justinian in 553 forbade Jews to use the Secunda Editio (Latin: "Second Edition"), apparently referring to the Midrashic commentaries on Scripture. Centuries later, Crusaders marching through Germany decided to defend Christianity long before reaching the Holy Land by confiscating Jewish works as they passed through cities, leaving behind them piles of ash.

A decade before the Disputation of Paris, a public burning of Maimonidean writings took place in Montpellier France. Like the Disputation, this was started by an "internal" dispute. Solomon ben Abraham of Montpellier was extremely orthodox and was opposed to Moses ben Maimon's philosophy, so he invited Dominican and Franciscan inquisitors to look at the writings of one whom Solomon considered a heretic. The burning took place in December 1233. The inquisitors did not stop there. About a month after the Montpellier event, the Talmud became a target; copies of it and others—an estimated 12,000 volumes—were burning publicly in Paris.

The burning of the Talmud became a common event. Louis IX ordered more confiscations in 1247 and 1248; he produced an ordinance about this in 1254, which was upheld by Philip III in 1284 and Philip IV in 1290 and 1299.

In July 1263, the Disputation of Barcelona took place at the court of King James I of Aragon between another convert from Judaism to Christianity, the Dominican Friar Pablo Christiani, and the leading Jewish scholar Moshe ben Nachman, called Nachmanides. The debate was chiefly on the question "Was Jesus the Messiah?" The Disputation is a play by Hyam Maccoby, based on the Disputation; it was made into a film in 1986 starring Christopher Lee. You can watch it on YouTube.

The Christians claimed victory, but King James gave Nachmanides 300 gold coins, and to explain that, I should next tell you about James of Aragon.

The Disputation of Paris, Part One

This blog made a reference to the Disputation of Paris years ago, but never got around to any details. The Disputation was a debate between rabbis in France and a Franciscan friar, Nicholas Donin. How did it come about?

Donin had not always been a Franciscan, or even a Christian. He was a Jew who was excommunicated by Rabbi Yechiel of Paris. Why was he excommunicated? Donin followed Karaite Judaism, which taught that the only true commandments from God were the Torah, and that any additional oral law codified in the Talmud or Midrash was not authoritative. Rabbi Yechiel was a follower of Rabbinic Judaism, who studied and taught and enforced the Talmud.

After living ten years as an excommunicate, Nicholas Donin converted to Christianity and joined the Franciscan Order. Possibly to ingratiate himself to his new community, possibly to strike back at Rabbinic Judaism, he went through the Talmud and found 35 instances that were damaging to the reputations of Jesus and Mary and Christianity. Donin presented these to Pope Gregory IX in 1238. Gregory ordered that all copies of the Talmud were to be seized and examined by the authorities of the Church; if the allegations were found to be true, the Talmuds were to be burned.

Only France cared about the order. Louis IX ordered the four most prominent rabbis in France to dispute Donin's charges in public: Moses of Coucy, Judah of Melon, Samuel ben Solomon of Chateau-Thierry, ... and Rabbi Yechiel of Paris.

This is where Blanche of Castile (from yesterday's post) comes in. She guaranteed the safety of the rabbis, although there were limitations put on what they were allowed to say. The outcome was probably a foregone conclusion, with the copies of the Talmud at stake. I'll tell you what happened tomorrow.

Jews and the Fourth Lateran

The Roman Catholic Church of the Middle Ages did not invent persecution of the Jews, but it worked hard to perfect it. The final four of the 70 Canons of the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215 dealt specifically with Jews (and Saracens; pagans also get an honorable mention).

Canon 67 intended to protect "Christians against cruel oppression by the Jews," by which they meant being charged interest. The charging of "immoderate interest" would result in being denied the custom of Christians. Christians would likewise be compelled by "ecclesiastical censure" from doing business with Jews.

Canon 68 insisted that Jews and Saracens wear clothing that distinguishes them, so that there could be no mistake of a Christian, say wooing a non-Christian. The Synod of Narbonne in 1227 ruled:

That Jews may be distinguished from others, we decree and emphatically command that in the center of the breast (of their garments) they shall wear an oval badge, the measure of one finger in width and one half a palm in height. [link]

This was also justified by quoting Numbers 15:37-41, the rule to wear tassels with blue cords on the corners of garments as a constant reminder of the Lord's commandments.

Canon 69 forbade a Jew from holding any office that would give him authority over Christians.

The final Canon addresses Jews who have converted, declaring that they must not be allowed to return to their former lives. It "cleverly" quoted the Old Testament in junction against wearing clothing made from two different fibers [Deuteronomy 22:2], comparing it to the converted trying to live two lives by not completely abandoning the old one.

And that wrapped up the Fourth Lateran, except for an "Epilogue"—a series of decrees about the Holy Land—which was of particular importance to Pope Innocent because of what happened a decade earlier; but that's for tomorrow.

Magnus Maximus, Part 2

rom a 14th century Welsh Book of Hours,
this is thought to depict Maximus [link]

Yesterday we introduced Magnus Maximus, a general who briefly became ruler of much of the Western Roman Empire. Leaving the young Emperor Valentinian II in Rome, Maximus ruled over Britain, Gaul, Spain, and Africa.

He did things that did not sit well with his constituents, however. He is believed to be the first person to order execution for heresy when he executed Priscillian and six followers.* We are so used to thinking of the Middle Ages killing heretics that we would be surprised to know that this wasn't always common. In this case, St. Martin of Tours (mentioned here) tried to prevent it. On the other hand, when Maximus tried to censure Christians for burning down a synagogue, Bishop Ambrose of Milan condemned Maximus' decision.

Maximus also pushed his luck by driving out Valentinian II, who later, with the help of Eastern Emperor Theodosius I, returned and attacked Maximus, defeating him in 388 at the Battle of the Save (near modern Croatia). Maximus surrendered to his enemies at Aquileia; despite pleading for mercy, he was executed.

Maximus had family, and although we are not certain what became of all of them, we have some ideas, and legend offers another. His son, Flavius Victor, was strangled. His wife sought counsel from St. Martin, but we know nothing of her after that; we don't even know her name, although a popular Welsh legend calls her Elen. Maximus had a mother and daughters who were spared. One of his daughters, Sevira, is named on the Pillar of Eliseg as a wife of Vortigern. (The pillar was erected centuries after Vortigern, so we cannot be certain of the accuracy of the data.)

Later historians did not forget the story of a warrior starting in Britain and conquering Rome. They embraced him, and wove him into England's greatest legend. Accordingly, one of his grandsons was Flavius Ambrosius Aurelius, who had a son, Ambrosius Aurelianus. Depending on which ancient historian or modern author you pick, Ambrosius is either the uncle of King Arthur or is the figure on whom King Arthur is based.



*"Priscillianism" will be covered in the near future.

Protecting the Jews

The Plague, also called the Black Death, spread across Sicily shortly after the arrival of a fleet of a dozen Genoese galleys bringing goods from the far eastern end of the Mediterranean. This was in October of 1346. A few months later, in January 1348, galleys from Kaffa (in Crimea) reached Genoa and Venice, where outbreaks also began.

The rest of Europe might have been spared—crossing the Alps would be difficult for the Plague carriers—but one of the galleys was driven away from Italy and found shelter in the port of Marseilles on the southern coast of France. That was the real introduction to continental Europe, after which there was no stopping it.

There is plenty of information about the Black Death to be found online—including in the blog—so there is no need to go into details here. There is, however, a specific event related to the Plague that took place on today's date.

Many populations throughout history, unhappy with their lot, either due to general difficulties or tragedy, have looked for a scapegoat. That scapegoat often takes the form of other people who can be labeled as "outsiders" who are not us and whose presence or actions are hurting us. In the case of the Plague, that scapegoat in many locations was the Jews, who were persecuted and killed, accused of poisoning wells (despite the fact that they drank from the very same sources of water), or of general wickedness that had brought down the wrath of God.

Pope Clement VI was moved to produce a papal bull, Quamvis perfidiam, defending the Jews against the accusations, and urging his fellow Christian prelates to defend them in their territories. It was released on 6 July, 1348. Unfortunately, persecution persisted, and so he re-issued it on 26 September.

The Talmud Compromise

Although Pope Gregory IX felt it his duty to protect the Jews, he had issues with their Talmud, the collection of Jewish laws and practices. Was it harmful and heretical, or simply a way of life that was different?

A converted Jew had presented to Gregory 35 places in the Talmud that he considered blasphemous to Christianity. This led to the Disputation of Paris (about which I really should write a post soon). After the Disputation, a tribunal was assembled to decide whether the Talmud was dangerous to Christianity. One of the men involved, Odo of Châteauroux (c.1190 - 25 January 1273), was chancellor of the University of Paris. The decision of Odo and the tribunal was that the Talmud was heretical and should be burned.

Burning the Talmud

In 1242, 24 cartloads of copies of the Talmud and other Hebrew books were burned at a ceremony in Paris. Skip forward to 1243, however, and Pope Innocent IV was on the throne of Peter. At first, he continued the policy of Gregory, and Talmuds were gathered to be destroyed. He began to question, however, whether this policy was not in opposition to the Church's traditional stance of tolerance for Jews.

In 1247, the pope listened to complaints brought to him by some Jews, and he asked Odo to take a second look, but this time to try to see it through the eyes of the Jewish rabbis. Was the Talmud truly heretical and a danger to Christianity, or merely misguided and could be treated simply as an error-prone text and studied as such, the way philosophy would be treated. He thought that the Talmud might prove harmless, and that the confiscated copies might be returned.

Odo was having none of it, and he condemned the Talmud again, in May 1248. Innocent listened carefully, and also listened to the rabbis who claimed that they could not understand the Bible if they did not have their Talmud, which was so intertwined with the Old Testament. Against the objections of Odo and others, Pope Innocent decreed that the Talmud should not be burned, merely censured as erroneous insofar as Christianity is concerned. He decreed that the Talmuds in possession should be returned to their owners.

The popes after Innocent continued this policy.

Popes and the Talmud

The Talmud [late Hebrew talmūd, "instruction"] is the body of Jewish civil and ceremonial law. It includes the Mishnah (exegetical material embodying the oral tradition of Jewish law) and the Gemara (rabbinical commentaries on the Mishnah). The Talmud had a rocky existence in Christian Europe, even at the hands of one of the popes who was most supportive of the Jews, Gregory IX.

Talmud from 13th-14th centuries

Pope Gregory IX (c.1145 - 1241) was responsible for the Decretals (a codification of canon law that some say was designed to establish his authority over the Church) and the Papal Inquisition (and let us not forget his part in the demonization of cats). This centralization of power of the papacy seemed to inspire him to be the guardian of all God's children, however. He was steadfast in his protection of persecuted Jews, so long as they were not guilty of what he considered to be sins.

In 1233, for instance, Jews in France complained to Gregory that they were being mistreated. He declare that any imprisoned Jews were to be set free and not injured in their person or their property, so long as they agreed to forsake usury (the practice of charging high rates of interest, considered to be sinful due to the Bible).

In the 1234 Decretals, Gregory declared the doctrine of perpetua servitus iudaeorum. That is, the Jews were in perpetual political servitude until Judgment Day, making them officially second-class citizens in the Empire. As abhorrent as this was, it also made Gregory treat them as a group that needed his protection, so that in 1235 he re-affirmed an earlier papal bull, Sicut Judeis ["and thus, to the Jews"], which declared their right to enjoy lawful liberty.

1236 was a busy year for Gregory. He presented a list of charges against Emperor Frederick II concerning offenses against the Jews. In September he wrote to several bishops of France, requiring them to make sure that Crusaders who had killed and robbed Jews make full restitution. He also wrote to King Louis IX of France concerning the same.

Gregory had a serious problem, however, with the Talmud. He had to determine if it fell into the category of "heresy." His conclusion was harsh, but fortunately not universally accepted. We will look at that tomorrow.

Statute of Kalisz

Artwork depicting the Statute of Kalisz

Bolesław V the Pious (1224 - 1279) was (at different and overlapping times)  Duke of Greater Poland, Duke of Kalisz, Duke of Gniezno, and duke or regent or leader of other regions, all starting in 1239 when his father died.

Not sure how he got the nickname "Pious" (Pobożny in Polish), but in 1264 he did something truly pious: he enacted the Statute of Kalisz. Kalisz, one of the oldest cities in Poland, was then on the border with Germany. It had a Jewish population, probably driven there from the Rhineland by the Crusades (which were not always about freeing the Holy Land).

In 1264, Bolesław enacted the Statute that gave rights to the Jews of Kalisz and western Poland.

One of the rights it granted was the Jews' ability to have complete legal jurisdiction over matters that were solely involving Jews, and it set up a special court to deal with Jewish-Christian disputes. Among other statutes:

• Jeering at a synagogue required paying a fine.
• Throwing stones at a synagogue was punishable by a payment of two pounds of pepper to the local court.
• Christians were not allowed to accuse Jews of blood libel.*
• Jews were not to be harassed when traveling, or be forced to pay additional road tolls.
• Christian neighbors who failed to help a Jew who calls for help in the night would be fined 30 szelags.

The Statute (with 46 chapters of new rights) was so accommodating in the legal status given to Jews that it helped create a "nation within a nation." King Casimir III would extend it to all of Poland 70 years later.

*The kidnapping and murder of children to use their blood in rituals—this was a common accusation for centuries.

Gilbert de Clare

Gilbert de Clare, Tewksbury Abbey
Unknown if this is "our" Gilbert,
his son, or his grandfather

Gilbert de Clare, 7th Earl of Gloucester (1243 - 1295), was mentioned in the post on the Battle of Evesham, switching support from the treasonous Simon de Montfort to King Henry III. Though very young, he had already managed some significant accomplishments.

His father died in 1262, when Gilbert was still in his teens, and so Gilbert was made a ward of Humphrey de Bohun, the 2nd Earl of Hereford (whose son would also have experience with a traitor), but came into his own a year later. So it was that, in spring of 1264 (as part of the uprising against King Henry), he captured Canterbury and attacked the Jews.

He went on to sack the Jewry perhaps with the main intention of destroying all the evidence of debts [...]. The result was that the Jewry was dispersed. It is unclear if there were fatalities. What is known is that two years later, in 1266, the community had returned to Oxford and 18 leading local Jews signed a treaty of self-defence, in which they sought to protect themselves against, 'liars, improper persons, or slanders'. [link]

He may have been emulating Simon de Montfort, who had expelled Jews from Leicester in 1231 (one year before Henry established the Domus Conversorum to give English Jews an option for co-existence). The older Montfort's parents had been extremely hostile to Jews in the past. Clare might have been operating simply because he could, and wanted to impress Montfort, who was the focal point of the barons' uprising against Henry and looked like he would be the next king.

Eventually, however, Clare's sympathies shifted back to Prince Edward in 1265, after Edward escaped his guardians and began to rally supporters against the rebellious barons. Years later, when Henry died, Clare swiftly and openly declared loyalty to the new King Edward I. Clare was named Guardian of England whenever Edward was out of the country.

He died on 7 December 1295 and was buried in Tewksbury Abbey. A stained glass window in the abbey represents him...or his son Gilbert, the 8th Earl...or his grandfather Gilbert, the 5th Earl.

The Lisbon Massacre

A memorial in Lisbon*

We touched on the Lisbon Massacre, in which between 1000 and 2000 (and maybe more) Jews were slaughtered, in the post on Crypto-Jews. Here is a little more detail.

To be precise, no "Jews" were slaughtered in Lisbon; technically, they were all "New Christians," Jews who had grudgingly converted years earlier, rather than be expelled from their home. Portugal in 1506 was in dire straits for everyone, however, because drought had brought famine; also, a plague was sweeping through. The people gathered to pray for deliverance from these problems.

History tells us that one of the devout, while praying at the Saint Domingo of Lisbon Convent on 19 April 1506, said he saw the face of Christ appear on the altar. This miraculous manifestation was taken as a sign that better times were coming. One parishioner who was present, however, said it was probably just a trick of reflection. This second opinion came from a New Christian. The devout Christians around him objected to this mundane interpretation, and they dragged him outside and beat him to death.

Suddenly, blaming New Christians for their troubles seemed like a good idea. It was reinforced by Dominican friars—by now the Dominicans were thoroughly entwined with the papal inquisition—who preached forgiveness of all sins for the previous 100 days to whomever killed heretics. The result was about 500 deaths that day. New Christians hid in their homes, but by Monday the fervor of the crowd could not be stopped. They dragged New Christians from their homes and burned in public. By Tuesday the number of victims had approached 2000.

King Manuel had been out of Lisbon, avoiding the plague. When he learned of the slaughter, he sent emissaries to stop it. Major malefactors were tried and had their possessions confiscated; some were executed. The two Dominicans were defrocked and burned at the stake, meeting the same fate that they had just meted out to hundreds of others.


*The inscription reads: “In memory of the thousands of Jews victims of intolerance and religious fanaticism, murdered in the massacre started on this square on the 19th of April 1506.”

Isaac Abrabanel

The other day I mentioned that King Alfonso of Portugal in the 15th century had a Jewish treasurer. He was a statesman and scholar as well, not to mention wealthy and a victim of the ongoing anti-Semitism.

A stamp commemorating Isaac Abrabanel

Isaac Abrabanel was born in 1437 to a prestigious family in Lisbon, Portugal. He studied rabbinic literature while growing up, but also considered as a mentor Joseph ibn Shem-Tov (d.1480), who wrote a book on economics (which hasn't survived; it is suspected to have been a revision of Aristotle's Economics). It was his understanding of economics as well as his general knowledge that brought him to the attention of King Alfonso V of Portugal.

This position gave him some clout as well as being fairly wealthy in his own right. When the Portugese town of Arzila on the northern coast of Morocco was captured by Moors and the Jewish population sold as slaves, he was in a position to arrange collections of funds to gain their freedom as well as contribute heavily to the ransom himself.

Alfonso's successor was not so friendly to Jews, imprisoning many; Abrabanel left Portugal for Spain under Queen Isabella of Castile. Although in 1492 Isabella would create (with Ferdinand of Aragon) the Alhambra Decree and expel Jews from Spain, at this earlier time she was willing to accept the help of a sharp financial man who could make sure royal revenues for the military were handled properly and the military was provisioned well.

Unfortunately, the presence of Jews in Spain became a difficulty for the rulers, and the Alhambra Decree was produced in 1492. Abrabanel pleaded with Ferdinand, and offered him the sum of 30,000 ducats to reverse the decision—all in vain. His departure from Spain also meant forfeiting the chance to regain large sums of money that he had advanced to Ferdinand for the military.

He spent a lot of time after that writing commentaries on the Old Testament, but misfortune prevented him from living a quiet life. He first went to Naples, but when the French conquered it he left for Messina, then Corfu, then Monopoli in Bari, Italy; finally, he settled in Venice, where his talents as a statesman were put to use negotiating a treaty between Venice and Portugal. Up until his death, he offered large sums of money to Spain to reverse the Alhambra Decree, but to no avail. He died in 1508 and was buried in the Jewish cemetery in Padua. The Siege of Padua a year later destroyed the cemetery, and the locations of many graves and remains were lost.