Among the most interesting passages of history are those in which we
contemplate an oppressed, yet sublime spirit, agitated by the conflict
of two terrific passions: implacable hatred attempting a resolute
vengeance, while that vengeance, though impotent, with dignified and
silent horror, sinks into the last expression of despair. In a
degenerate nation, we may, on such rare occasions, discover among them a
spirit superior to its companions and its fortune.
In the ancient and modern history of the Jews we may find two kindred
examples. I refer the reader for the more ancient narrative to the
second book of Maccabees, chap. xiv. v. 37. No feeble and unaffecting
painting is presented in the simplicity of the original. I proceed to
relate the narrative of the Jews of York.
When Richard I. ascended the throne, the Jews, to conciliate the royal
protection, brought their tributes. Many had hastened from remote parts
of England, and appearing at Westminster, the court and the mob imagined
that they had leagued to bewitch his majesty. An edict was issued to
forbid their presence at the coronation; but several, whose curiosity
was greater than their prudence, conceived that they might pass
unobserved among the crowd, and ventured to insinuate themselves into
the abbey. Probably their voice and their visage alike betrayed them,
for they were soon discovered; they flew diversely in great
consternation, while many were dragged out with little remains of life.
A rumour spread rapidly through the city, that in honour of the festival
the Jews were to be massacred. The populace, at once eager of royalty
and riot, pillaged and burnt their houses, and murdered the devoted
Jews. Benedict, a Jew of York, to save his life, received baptism; and
returning to that city, with his friend Jocenus, the most opulent of the
Jews, died of his wounds. Jocenus and his servants narrated the late
tragic circumstances to their neighbours, but where they hoped to move
sympathy they excited rage. The people at York soon gathered to imitate
the people at London; and their first assault was on the house of the
late Benedict, which having some strength and magnitude, contained his
family and friends, who found their graves in its ruins. The alarmed
Jews hastened to Jocenus, who conducted them to the governor of York
Castle, and prevailed on him to afford them an asylum for their persons
and effects. In the mean while their habitations were levelled, and the
owners murdered, except a few unresisting beings, who, unmanly in
sustaining honour, were adapted to receive baptism.
The castle had sufficient strength for their defence; but a suspicion
arising that the governor, who often went out, intended to betray them,
they one day refused him entrance. He complained to the sheriff of the
county, and the chiefs of the violent party, who stood deeply indebted
to the Jews, uniting with him, orders were issued to attack the castle.
The cruel multitude, united with the soldiery, felt such a desire of
slaughtering those they intended to despoil, that the sheriff, repenting
of the order, revoked it, but in vain; fanaticism and robbery once set
loose will satiate their appetency for blood and plunder. They solicited
the aid of the superior citizens, who, perhaps not owing quite so much
money to the Jews, humanely refused it; but having addressed the clergy
(the barbarous clergy of those days) were by them animated, conducted,
and blest.
The leader of this rabble was a canon regular, whose zeal was so fervent
that he stood by them in his surplice, which he considered as a coat of
mail, and reiteratedly exclaimed, "Destroy the enemies of Jesus!" This
spiritual laconism invigorated the arm of men who perhaps wanted no
other stimulative than the hope of obtaining the immense property of the
besieged. It is related of this canon, that every morning before he went
to assist in battering the walls he swallowed a consecrated wafer. One
day having approached too near, defended as he conceived by his
surplice, this church militant was crushed by a heavy fragment of the
wall, rolled from the battlement.
But the avidity of certain plunder prevailed over any reflection, which,
on another occasion, the loss of so pious a leader might have raised.
Their attacks continued; till at length the Jews perceived they could
hold out no longer, and a council was called, to consider what remained
to be done in the extremity of danger.
Among the Jews, their elder Rabbin was most respected. It has been
customary with this people to invite for this place some foreigner,
renowned among them for the depth of his learning, and the sanctity of
his manners. At this time the _Haham_, or elder Rabbin, was a foreigner,
who had been sent over to instruct them in their laws, and was a person,
as we shall observe, of no ordinary qualifications. When the Jewish
council was assembled, the Haham rose, and addressed them in this
manner--"Men of Israel! the God of our ancestors is omniscient, and
there is no one who can say, Why doest thou this? This day He commands
us to die for His law; for that law which we have cherished from the
first hour it was given, which we have preserved pure throughout our
captivity in all nations, and which for the many consolations it has
given us, and the eternal hope it communicates, can we do less than die?
Posterity shall behold this book of truth, sealed with our blood; and
our death, while it displays our sincerity, shall impart confidence to
the wanderer of Israel. Death is before our eyes; and we have only to
choose an honourable and easy one. If we fall into the hands of our
enemies, which you know we cannot escape, our death will be ignominious
and cruel; for these Christians, who picture the Spirit of God in a
dove, and confide in the meek Jesus, are athirst for our blood, and
prowl around the castle like wolves. It is therefore my advice that we
elude their tortures; that we ourselves should be our own executioners;
and that we voluntarily surrender our lives to our Creator. We trace the
invisible Jehovah in his acts; God seems to call for us, but let us not
be unworthy of that call. Suicide, on occasions like the present, is
both rational and lawful; many examples are not wanting among our
forefathers: as I advise, men of Israel, they have acted on similar
occasions." Having said this, the old man sat down and wept.
The assembly was divided in their opinions. Men of fortitude applauded
its wisdom, but the pusillanimous murmured that it was a dreadful
counsel.
Again the Rabbin rose, and spoke these few words in a firm and decisive
tone:--"My children! since we are not unanimous in our opinions, let
those who do not approve of my advice depart from this assembly!"--Some
departed, but the greater number attached themselves to their venerable
priest. They now employed themselves in consuming their valuables by
fire; and every man, fearful of trusting to the timid and irresolute
hand of the women, first destroyed his wife and children, and then
himself. Jocenus and the Rabbin alone remained. Their lives were
protracted to the last, that they might see everything performed,
according to their orders. Jocenus being the chief Jew, was
distinguished by the last mark of human respect, in receiving his death
from the consecrated hand of the aged Rabbin, who immediately after
performed the melancholy duty on himself.
All this was transacted in the depth of the night. In the morning the
walls of the castle were seen wrapt in flames, and only a few miserable
and pusillanimous beings, unworthy of the sword, were viewed on the
battlements, pointing to their extinct brethren. When they opened the
gates of the castle, these men verified the prediction of their late
Rabbin; for the multitude, bursting through the solitary courts, found
themselves defrauded of their hopes, and in a moment avenged themselves
on the feeble wretches who knew not how to die with honour.
Such is the narrative of the Jews of York, of whom the historian can
only cursorily observe that five hundred destroyed themselves; but it is
the philosopher who inquires into the causes and the manner of these
glorious suicides. These are histories which meet only the eye of few,
yet they are of infinitely more advantage than those which are read by
every one. We instruct ourselves in meditating on these scenes of heroic
exertion; and if by such histories we make but a slow progress in
chronology, our heart however expands with sentiment.
I admire not the stoicism of Cato, more than the fortitude of the
Rabbin; or rather we should applaud that of the Rabbin much more; for
Cato was familiar with the animating visions of Plato, and was the
associate of Cicero and of Caesar. The Rabbin had probably read only the
Pentateuch, and mingled with companions of mean occupations, and meaner
minds. Cato was accustomed to the grandeur of the mistress of the
universe; and the Rabbin to the littleness of a provincial town. Men,
like pictures, may be placed in an obscure and unfavourable light; but
the finest picture, in the unilluminated corner, still retains the
design and colouring of the master. My Rabbin is a companion for Cato.
His history is a tale
Which Cato's self had not disdained to hear.--POPE.