CHAPTER XXXI.

A.D. 1500-1600.

THE JEWS IN GERMANY AND CENTRAL EUROPE.

The condition of the Jews during the sixteenth century in those

parts of Germany and Central Europe where their presence was still

tolerated, does not materially differ from what it had been for many

previous generations. We hear of fewer outbreaks of lawless violence,

and the atrocities committed on them seem a shade less barbarous.

But the history is in the main such as the Christian chronicler must

record, and the Christian reader peruse, with feelings of shame and

sorrow. At Mecklenberg, just at the end of the previous century,

the oft-repeated, though never proved, accusation had been revived

of bribing a Christian priest to sell the consecrated Host; which

the Jews who purchased it immediately proceeded to stab, drawing

forth (it was alleged) the very blood of the Lord Jesus, whose body

it was. A grave and minute inquiry was set on foot. Thirty Jews,

together with the priest, were condemned to be burned at the stake

for the offence. Some Jewish women and children were implicated in

the charge. One of the former is related to have put two of her

daughters to death, in order to save them from the horrors that

awaited them, and to have been on the point of killing a third,

when she was snatched from her. Two years afterwards, another

charge was brought against some Hungarian Jews, or rather another

form of the same charge: this time the offence being murdering a

Christian in order to drink his blood.[172] The accused were put

to the torture—not so much, we learn, to elicit the fact whether

_they_ were guilty, as whether the whole Jewish people of Hungary

were not implicated in the crime. Monstrous as this may seem, it

was not the first time, by any means, that such a belief had been

entertained.[173] Possibly, indeed, it was hoped that under the

pressure of their agony the sufferers would confess that, or anything

else that they were required to admit, and so give a pretext for a

general massacre. If so, the attempt failed, for we find that only

those who had been accused of the crime suffered for it.

A few years afterwards, at Nuremberg, and again at Cologne,

expulsions of the Jews took place. In both cities, though a number

of charges were alleged against them, the real offence seems to have

been their commercial success, and the heavy load of debt contracted

to them by the citizens of the two towns. The shortest mode of paying

off the liabilities, it was found, lay in finding their creditors

guilty of some offence for which they were punishable by the

confiscation of their property, including, of course, all debts owing

to them. But these expulsions, however unjust, do not appear to have

been stained by the additional guilt of bloodshed.

In 1509, a Jew who had been converted to Christianity, Pfeffercorn

by name, filled with the zeal for which proselytes are always

remarkable, suggested to the Emperor Maximilian that all books

which upheld or set forth Jewish doctrine, and especially the

Talmud, the great repository of Jewish fable, should be everywhere

destroyed. He had already written more than one book, in which he

charged his countrymen not only with denying the truth of the New

Testament, but with departing from the commandments of the Old. He

accused them also of using imprecations against Christians, both in

public and private. These had so much effect upon Maximilian, that

he is reported to have been half inclined to grant his request.

He resolved, however, to appoint a commission of learned men to

examine and report on the matter. At the head of this was placed

Reuchlin[174] (otherwise Capnio), the most famous Hebrew scholar of

his day, and a man of large and liberal views. He advised the Emperor

that such of the Jewish books as contained blasphemies against our

Lord (as undoubtedly some of them did) had better be destroyed; but

those which simply treated of the tenets and ritual of the Jews ought

to be retained. He pointed out how impossible it was to suppress

books which a certain number of readers were resolved to preserve.

This would have been at any time difficult, but since the invention

of printing it had become morally impossible, as the Jews had now

begun to make free use of the printing-press.[175] We cannot wonder

much that a man of Pfeffercorn’s temper would not acquiesce in

a decision like this. He attacked Reuchlin in an angry pamphlet,

to which Reuchlin replied. The dispute was referred to the Pope,

and Hochstraten, a Dutch Inquisitor who had espoused Pfeffercorn’s

quarrel, repaired to Rome to advocate it; but the papal decision was

in favour of Reuchlin. The Jewish books were spared. Nevertheless, it

may be doubted whether the affair was favourable to them. The result

was to attract the attention of Christian scholars to these Jewish

attacks on Christianity, and replies were in consequence written,

which were probably more damaging to Judaism than any burning of

their books could have been.

Out of this controversy a number of sects seem to have arisen—at

least, they are first noticed by writers about this time, and they

disappear from history soon afterwards. Among these Seidelius

of Silesia, George de Novara, and Francis David are the most

remarkable.[176] They held opinions culled, some from Judaism, some

from Christianity, and differed widely from one another. They had the

usual fate of eclectics, being rejected and despised by both parties.

In 1516 the Jews had a narrow escape of being expelled from

Frankfort. An assembly, consisting of deputies from various

sovereigns and free towns, was held in that city, for the purpose of

organizing measures for their banishment. Fortunately for them, the

deputies could not agree among themselves. The Jews were, however,

driven out of Brandenburg. Lippold, physician to the elector of that

country, was charged with having poisoned his employer. He made a

confession under torture, and was executed; after which all his

countrymen were driven into exile.

Towards the middle of this century the Jews were for the first time

expelled from Prague. They had dwelt unmolested in that city from

time immemorial. No one knew when they had first settled there; but

tradition said it was in times when Bohemia was yet heathen; and

inscriptions on some of the older graves in their moss-grown cemetery

are quoted in proof of the fact. The very latest date assigned for

their arrival is the tenth century of Christianity. They had built

a noble synagogue, and had opened an academy, over which a renowned

Jewish doctor presided. But in the troubled times which followed the

burning of Huss and Jerome of Prague they continually fell under

the suspicion of one, or, it might be said, both parties, the Jews

being too cautious to ally themselves with either. This feeling grew

stronger when the Reformation itself had fairly engaged men’s minds.

Among the mutual jealousies and suspicions which had taken possession

of men’s minds, that of the secret plottings of the Jews in favour of

their antagonists, was one of constant occurrence. It chanced that

terrible conflagrations broke out in some of the larger cities, and

among others, in Prague. The Jews were instantly suspected of having

caused it. Being suspected was in those times very nearly the same

thing as being convicted of it. All those that escaped the flames

were banished from the city, with the exception of ten families, who

obtained permission to remain. The Emperor was not convinced of their

guilt, but the feeling that had been provoked was too strong for

him to cope with. He saw plainly that nothing but the death or the

banishment of Jews would satisfy the people, and he chose the more

merciful of the alternatives offered him. Towards the latter end of

the year the real incendiaries were discovered, and the Jews were

then permitted to return.

About eight years afterwards another outcry was raised, this time it

being affirmed that the Jews had been praying that disaster and ruin

might befall the Christians. Their books were seized as a punishment,

and carried off to Vienna, so that the Rabbins had to officiate in

the synagogues as well as they were able, reciting everything from

memory. We must suppose that this charge was disproved, as the other

had been, for the books were soon afterwards restored. Even this was

not the end of their troubles. Before the year was out, there came

another peremptory order for all the Jews, except the ten privileged

families, once more to leave the city and settle elsewhere in

Bohemia; and this time it does not appear that they were allowed to

return.

Merseburg again—the capital now of one of the regencies of the

Prussian States, which consists almost entirely of cessions made by

Saxony in 1815—was another of the cities in which the Jews claimed

to have resided without interruption for nearly fourteen centuries.

Yet, so widespread had the feeling against them become, that they

were forced, in 1559, to quit this city also, notwithstanding that

the Emperor Ferdinand was willing to help them to the utmost of his

ability. He not only protected them, indeed, but granted them a

privilege which had been accorded to their ancestors in the East,

many centuries before—that of having their own special ruler, who was

known by the same title as that borne in the earliest Christian times

by the Patriarch of the East, viz., the ‘Prince of the Captivity.’

In Moravia, in 1574, a similar flame of persecution broke out. We

are not informed what were the precise charges, but no doubt they

were much the same that were alleged against almost all Jewish

congregations in Central Europe about this time. Many Jews, we

learn, were burnt at the stake, and many more put to death in other

ways. They appealed to the Emperor Ferdinand, who appears always to

have been willing to assist his Jewish subjects to the best of his

ability. He did interfere, and stopped the executions, but not before

many victims had been sacrificed.

In Franconia, six years afterwards, there was something of a similar

outbreak. In this instance the Jews were accused, as they were in

many other places, of having set on fire the town of Bamberg. But

here they escaped without undergoing any further severity than having

to make good the loss which those had suffered whose property had

been destroyed.

In Poland and the Ukraine a more merciful state of things prevailed.

In both these the Jews enjoyed entire freedom alike from pillage and

persecution. In the first-named country they were chiefly engaged

in trade, which they almost monopolized; in the latter, almost

exclusively in agriculture.

But in Russia proper the race of Israel continued to be, as tradition

declares it always to have been, harshly treated—such Israelites,

that is to say, as were still permitted to dwell in the country,

the Jews generally having been expelled from it, as the reader has

learned (A.D. 1113). Late, however, in the previous, and early in

the present century, during the last years of the long reign of Ivan

III., a most singular apostasy to Judaism is recorded to have taken

place, the truth of which we should certainly be inclined to doubt,

if it had not been so respectably attested. A Jew named Zacharias,

about A.D. 1490, began to attempt the conversion of certain Russian

priests to Judaism, and succeeded to an extraordinary extent in

the design. The converts adopted all the Jewish rites, except that

of circumcision; which they dispensed with, because, in event of

discovery, it would be a certain proof against them. The apostasy

spread rapidly and widely. Ecclesiastics occupying the highest

positions in the Church, even the Patriarch Zosimus himself, became

perverts. The conspiracy, if it may be so called, was at last

discovered, and a great number of these ‘secret Jews’ summoned before

the council and convicted. They were punished after a more merciful

manner than that adopted towards their brethren in Spain. They were

set on horseback, with their faces towards the tails of their steeds,

dressed after a bizarre fashion to resemble devils, and paraded

through the streets amid the jeers of the rabble. Zosimus was sent

back to the monastery of which he had been archimandrite. But, though

the evil was detected, it is doubtful whether it was extirpated. It

is said to have lingered in the Russian Church long afterwards.

Rabbi Joseph ben Meir is the great Jewish historian of this period.

He was born at Avignon in 1496, and wrote a _Universal History_, and

a _History of his own Times_. The latter, though its statements must

be taken with reserve, is regarded generally as a valuable book.

David Gans also, born 1541, was a renowned scholar and author. He

died in Prague, A.D. 1613.

FOOTNOTES:

[172] See Appendix V.

[173] In the reign of Henry III. in England, at the inquest held on

Hugh of Lincoln, A.D. 1255, it was declared that the whole of the

Jews in England were privy to, and guilty of, the crime.

[174] Johann Reuchlin was born at Pforzheim, December 28, 1455, of

poor parents. The sweetness of his voice attracted attention to

him, and he was sent to be educated at Paris. He began his career

as a teacher of classics at Basle, but soon abandoned this for the

profession of the law. In 1482 he had become known as a Hebrew

scholar, and he was noticed by the Emperor Frederick III. In 1498

he returned to Stuttgard, where his fame continued to increase; in

consequence of which Pfeffercorn’s proposals were submitted to him

by Maximilian. The most celebrated satire of the day, the _Epistola

Obscurorum Virorum_, was written to uphold his views, and had the

effect of completely crushing his adversaries. Reuchlin died at

Stuttgard, December, 1521.

[175] Some of the Jewish books were no doubt extremely offensive

to Christians, as, for example, the _Chisuk Emunah_ of Isaac ben

Abraham, a Polish Jew. The Portuguese Jews translated it into their

own language, and diffused it widely. The _Nitzachon_ again, ascribed

to Rabbi Lipman, of Mulhouse, was equally, if not more virulent. It

could hardly be expected that even the wisest and most far-seeing men

of the sixteenth century would tolerate these.

[176] Seidelius taught that Messiah, when He came, would come to the

Jews only, the Gentiles having neither part nor lot in Him. Francis

David acknowledged Jesus Christ, but held that it was sinful to pray

to Him. George de Novara claimed to believe Christian doctrine, but

denied that Messiah had come. He was burnt at the stake.

The history of the Jews: From the war with Rome to the present time · 第 31 / 44 章