1462; St. Ludwig of Ravensburg, in 1429, again another. Six boys
were said to have been murdered by Jews at Ratisborn, in 1486; and
several cases come to us out of Spanish history. In Poland, in 1598,
in the village of Swinarzew, near Lositz, lived a peasant, Matthias
Petrenioff, with his wife, Anna. They had several children, among
them a boy named Adalbert. One day in Holy Week the boy was in
the fields ploughing with his father. In the evening he was sent
home, but instead of going home directly, he turned aside to visit
the village of Woznik, in which lived a Jew, Mark, who owned a
pawnshop, and had some mills. The son of Mark, named Aaron, and the
son-in-law, Isaac, overtook the boy as they were returning to Wosnik
in their cart and took him up into it.
As the child did not return home, his father went in search of him,
and hearing that he had been seen in the cart between the two Jews,
he went to the house of Mark and inquired for him. Mark's wife
said she had not seen him. The peasant now became frightened. He
remembered the stories that floated about concerning the murder of
Christian children by Jews, and concluded that his boy had been put
to death by Mark and his co-religionists. At length the body of the
child was discovered in a pond, probably gnawed by rats--but the
marks on the body were at once supposed to be due to the weapons of
the Jews. Immense excitement reigned in the district, and finally
two servants of the Jews, both Christians, one Athanasia, belonging
to the Greek Church, and another, Christina, a Latin, confessed
that their masters had murdered the boy. He had been concealed in
a cellar till the eve of the Passover, when the chief Jews of the
district had been assembled, and the boy had been bled to death
in their presence. The blood was put into small phials and each
Jew provided with one at least. This led to a general arrest of
the Jews, when the rack produced the requisite confession. Isaac,
son-in-law of Mark, in whose house the butchery was said to have
taken place, declared under torture that the Jews partook of the
blood of Christians in bread, and also in wine, but he professed to
be unable to account for the custom. Filled, however, with remorse
for having thus falsely accused his people and his relatives, he
hung himself in prison. Mark and Aaron were condemned to be torn
to pieces alive; and, of course, the usual spoliation ensued. We
have the account of this atrocious judicial murder from the pen of
a Jesuit, Szembeck, who extracted the particulars from the acts of
the court of Lublin, in which the case was tried, and from those
drawn up by order of the bishop of the diocese of Luz, in which the
murder occurred, and who obtained or sanctioned a canonization of
the boy-martyr.
Another still more famous case is that of S. Simeon, of Trent, in
1475, very full details of which are given in the Acta Sanctorum
of the Bollandists, as the victim was formally canonized by Pope
Benedict XIV., and the Roman Martyrology asserts the murder by the
Jews in these terms:--
"At Trent (on March 24th) the martyrdom of S. Simeon, a little
child, cruelly slain by the Jews, who was glorified afterwards by
several miracles."
The story as told and approved at the canonization was as follows:
On Tuesday, in Holy Week, 1475, the Jews met to prepare for
the approaching Passover, in the house of one of their number,
named Samuel; and it was agreed between three of them, Samuel,
Tobias, and Angelus, that a child should be crucified, as an act
of revenge against the Christians who cruelly maltreated them.
Their difficulty, however, was how to get one. Samuel sounded his
servant Lazarus, and attempted to bribe him into procuring one,
but the suggestion so scared the fellow that he ran away. On the
Thursday, Tobias undertook to get the boy, and going out in the
evening, whilst the people were in church, he prowled about till
he found a child sitting on the threshold of his father's door,
aged twenty-nine months, and named Simeon. The Jew began to coax
the little fellow to follow him, and the boy, after being lured
away, was led to the house of Samuel, whence during the night he was
conveyed to the synagogue, where he was bled to death, and his body
pierced with awls.
All Friday the parents sought their son, but found him not. The
Jews, alarmed at the proceedings of the magistrates, who had taken
the matter up, consulted together what was to be done. It was
resolved to put the body back into its clothes and throw it into the
stream that ran under Samuel's window, but which was there crossed
by a grating. Tobias was to go to the bishop and magistrates and
inform them that a child's body was entangled in the grate. This was
done. Thereupon John de Salis, the bishop, and James de Sporo, the
governor, went to see the spot, had the body removed, and conveyed
to the cathedral. As, according to popular superstition, blood was
supposed to flow from the wound when a murderer drew near, the
officers of justice were cautioned to observe the crowds as they
passed.
It was declared that blood exuded as Tobias approached. On the
strength of this, the house of Samuel and the synagogue were
examined, and it is asserted that blood and other traces of the
butchery were found. The most eminent physicians were called to
investigate the condition of the corpse, and they pronounced that
the child had been strangled, and that the wounds were due to stabs.
The popular voice now accusing the Jews, the magistrates seized on
them and threw them into prison, and on the accusation of a renegade
more than five of the Jews were sentenced to death. They were broken
on the wheel and then burnt. The body of the child is enshrined
at Trent, and a basin of the blood preserved as a relic in the
cathedral.
This must suffice for instances of accusations of murder for
religious purposes brought against the Jews, in every case false.
Another charge brought against them was Sacrilege. Fleury in his
Ecclesiastical History gives one instance. "In the little town of
Pulca, in Passau, a layman found a bloody Host before the house of
a Jew, lying in the street upon some straw. The people thought that
this Host was consecrated, and washed it and took it to the priest,
that it might be taken to the church, where a crowd of devotees
assembled, concluding that the blood had flowed miraculously from
wounds dealt it by the Jews. On this supposition, and without any
other examination, or any other judicial procedure, the Christians
fell on the Jews, and killed several of them; but wiser heads
judged that this was rather for the sake of pillage than to avenge
a sacrilege. This conjecture was justified by a similar event, that
took place a little while before at Neuburg, in the same diocese,
where a certain clerk placed an unconsecrated Host steeped in blood
in a church, but confessed afterwards before the bishop that he
had dipped this Host in blood for the purpose of raising hostility
against the Jews."[5]
[5] Fleury, Hist. Eccl., vi. p. 110.
In 1290, a Jew named Jonathan was accused in Paris of having thrown
a Host into the Seine. It floated. Then he stabbed it with his
knife, and blood flowed. The Jew was burnt alive, and the people
clamored for a general persecution of the Hebrews.
In Bavaria, in 1337, at Dechendorf, some Hosts were discovered which
the Jews had stabbed. The unhappy Hebrews were burnt alive.
In 1326, a Jew convert, a favourite of Count William the Good, of
Flanders, was accused of having struck an image of the Madonna,
which thereupon bled. The Jew was tortured, but denied the
accusation. Then he was challenged to a duel by a fanatic. He,
wholly unaccustomed to the use of weapons, succumbed. That sufficed
to prove his guilt. He was burnt.
In 1351, a Jew convert was accused, at Brussels, of having
pretended, on three occasions, to communicate, in order that he
might send the Hosts to his brethren at Cologne, who stabbed them,
and blood flowed.
The traveller who has been in Brussels must certainly have noticed
the painted windows all down the nave of S. Gudule, in the side
aisles, to left and right. They represent, in glowing colours, the
story of the miraculous Hosts preserved in the chancel to the north
of the choir, where seven red lamps burn perpetually before them.
The story is as follows: In 1370, a rich Jew of Enghien bribed a
converted Hebrew, named John of Louvain, for 60 pieces of gold, to
steal for him some Hosts from the Chapel of S. Catherine. Hardly,
however, had the Jew, Jonathan, received the wafers, before he was
attacked by robbers and murdered. His wife, alarmed, and thinking
that his death was due to the sacrilege, resolved to get rid of
the wafers. It may have been remarked in the stories of murders
by Jews, that they were represented as finding great difficulty
in getting rid of the dead bodies. In these stories of sacrilege,
no less difficulty was encountered in causing the disappearance
of the Hosts. Moreover, the Jews invariably proceeded in the most
roundabout and clumsy way, inviting discovery. The widow of the
murdered Jonathan conveyed the Hosts to the synagogue at Brussels.
There, on Good Friday, the Jews took advantage of the Hosts to stab
them with their knives, in mockery of Christ and the Christian
religion. But blood squirted from the transfixed wafers. In terror,
they also resolved to get rid of the miraculous Hosts, and found
no better means of so doing than bribing a renegade Jewess, named
Catharine, to carry them to Cologne. They promised her twenty
pieces of gold for her pains. She took the Hosts, but, troubled in
conscience, revealed what she had undertaken to her confessor. The
ecclesiastical authorities were informed, Catherine was arrested,
imprisoned, and confessed. All the Jews dwelling in Brussels were
taken up and tortured; but in spite of all torture refused to
acknowledge their guilt. However, a chaplain of the prince, a man
named Jean Morelli, pretended to have overheard a converted Jew say,
"Why do not these dogs make a clean breast? They know that they
are guilty." This man was that John of Louvain who had procured
the theft of the wafers. He was seized. He at once confessed his
participation in the crime. That sufficed. All the accused, he
himself included, were condemned to death. They were executed with
hideous cruelty; after having had their flesh torn off by red-hot
pinchers, they were attached to stakes and burnt alive, on the Vigil
of the Ascension, 1370. Every year a solemn procession of the Saint
Sacrement de Miracle commemorates this atrocity, or the miracle
which led to it.
Unfortunately, there exists no doubt whatever as to the horrible
execution of the Jews on the false charge of having stolen the
Hosts, but there is very good reason for disbelieving altogether the
story of the miracle of the bleeding Hosts.
Now, it is somewhat remarkable that not a word is said about this
miracle before 1435, that is to say, for 65 years, by any writer of
the period and of the country. The very first mention of it is found
in a Papal bull of that date, addressed to the Dean and Chapter
of S. Gudule, relative to a petition made by them that, as they
wanted money for the erection of a chapel to contain these Hosts,
indulgences might be granted to those who would contribute thereto.
The Pope granted their request.
Now, it so happens that the official archives at Brussels contains
two documents of the date, 1370, relative to this trial. The first
of these is the register of the accounts of the receiver-general
of the Duke of Brabant. In that are the items of expenditure for
the burning of these Jews, a receipt, and the text is as follows:
"Item, recepta de bonis dictorum judeorum, postquam combusti fuerant
circa ascensionem Domini lxx, quæ defamata fuerant de sacramentis
punicè et furtivè acceptis." That is to say, that a certain sum
flowed into the Duke's exchequer from the goods of the Jews, burnt
for having "guiltily and furtively obtained the Hosts." "Punice" is
an odd word, but its signification is clear enough. Now, in 1581,
on May 1st, the magistrates of Brussels forbade the exercise of
the Catholic religion, in a proclamation in which, when mentioning
certain frauds committed by the Roman Church, they speak of "The
Sacrament of the Miracle, which," say they, "by documentary evidence
can be proved never to have bled nor to have been stabbed." No
question--they had seen this entry in which no mention is made of
the stabbing--no allusion made to the bleeding. Moreover, in the
same archives is the contemporary episcopal letter addressed to the
Dean of S. Gudule on the subject of these Hosts. In this document
there is no mention made by the bishop of the stabbing or of the
miracle. It is stated that the Hosts were obtained by the Jews in
order that they might insult and outrage them. It is curious that
the letter should not specify their having done this, and done it
effectually, with their knives and daggers. Most assuredly, also,
had there been any suspicion of a miracle, the bishop would have
referred to it in the letter relative to the custody of these very
Hosts.
After the whole fable of the stabbing and bleeding had grown up, no
doubt applied to these Hosts from a preceding case of accusation
against Jews, that of 1351, less than thirty years before, it was
thought advisable, if not necessary, to produce some evidence in
favour of the story; but as no such evidence was obtainable, it was
manufactured in a very ingenious manner. The entry in the register
of accounts was published by the Père Ydens, after a notary had
been required to collate the text. This notary--his name was Van
Asbroek--gave his testimony that he had made an exact and literal
transcript of the entry. What he and the Père Ydens gave as their
exact, literal transcript was "recepta de bonis dictorum Judoeorum
... quæ defamata fuerant de sacramen_to puncto_ et furtive
accep_to_." Ingenious, but disingenuous. In the first place they
altered "sacramentis" from plural into singular, and then, the
adverb _punicè_, "guiltily," into _puncto_, stabbed.
Subsequently, Father Ydens and his notary have been quoted and
requoted as authoritative witnesses. However, the document is
now in the Archives at Brussels, and has been lithographed from
a photograph for the examination of such as have not the means
of obtaining access to the original.[6] The last jubilee of this
apocryphal miracle was celebrated at Brussels in July, 1870.
[6] Le Jubilé d'un faux Miracle (extrait de la Revue de
Belgique), Bruxelles 1870.
The Coburg Mausoleum.
At the east end of the garden of the Ducal residence of Coburg is a
small, tastefully constructed mausoleum, adorned with allegorical
subjects, in which are laid the remains of the deceased dukes. Near
the mausoleum rise a stately oak, a clump of rhododendron, a cluster
of acacias, and a group of yews and weeping-willows.
The mausoleum is hidden from the palace by a plantation of young
pines.
The Castle of Coburg is one of the most interesting and best
preserved in Germany. It stands on a height, above the little town,
and contains much rich wood-carving of the 15th and 16th centuries.
Below the height, but a little above the town, is the more modern
residence of the Dukes Ehrenburg, erected in 1626 by the Italian
architect Bonallisso, and finished in 1693. It has that character
of perverse revolt against picturesqueness that marked all the
edifices of the period. It has been restored, not in the best style,
at the worst possible epoch, 1816. The south front remains least
altered; it is adorned with a handsome gateway, over which is the
inscription, "Fried ernährt, Unfried verzehrt"--not easily rendered
in English:--
"Peace doth cherish--
Strife makes perish."
The princes of Coburg by their worth and kindly behaviour have for
a century drawn to them the hearts of their subjects, and hardly a
princely house in Germany is, and has been, more respected and loved.
Duke Franz died shortly after the battle of Jena. During his reign,
by his thrift, geniality, and love of justice he had won to his
person the affections of his people, though they resented the
despotic character of his government under his Minister Kretschmann.
He was twice married, but left issue only by the second wife,
Augusta, a princess of Reuss, who inherited the piety and virtues
which seem to be inrooted in that worthy house.
Only a few weeks after her return from Brussels, where she had seen
her son, recently crowned King of the Belgians, did the Duchess
Augusta of Sachsen-Coburg die in her seventy-sixth year, November
16th, 1831. The admiration and love this admirable princess had
inspired drew crowds to visit the body, as it lay in state in the
residence at Coburg, prior to the funeral, which took place on the
19th, before day-break, by the light of torches. The funeral was
attended by men and women of all classes eager to express their
attachment to the deceased, and respect for the family. A great
deal was said, and fabled, concerning this funeral. It was told
and believed that the Dowager Duchess had been laid in the family
vault adorned with her diamond rings and richest necklaces. She was
the mother of kings, and the vulgar believed that every royal and
princely house with which she was allied had contributed some jewel
towards the decoration of her body.
Her eldest son, Ernst I., succeeded his father in 1806 as
Duke of Sachsen-Coburg-Saalfeld, and in 1826 became Duke of
Sachsen-Coburg-Gotha. The second son, Ferdinand, married in 1816
the wealthiest heiress of Hungary, the Princess Rohary, and his
son, Ferdinand, became in 1836 King of Portugal, and his grandson,
Ferdinand, by his second son, is the present reigning Prince of
Bulgaria.
The third son, Leopold, married Charlotte, only daughter of George
IV. of England, and in 1831 became King of the Belgians. Of the five
daughters, the eldest was married to the Grand-Duke Constantine of
Russia, the second married the Duke of Kent, in 1818, and was the
mother of our Queen, Victoria. The third married Duke Alexander of
Würtemberg.
Among those who were present at the funeral of the Duchess Augusta
was a Bavarian, named Andreas Stubenrauch, an artisan then at
Coburg. He was the son of an armourer, followed his father's
profession, and had settled at Coburg as locksmith. He was a
peculiarly ugly man, with low but broad brow, dark-brown bristly
hair, heavy eyebrows and small cunning grey eyes. His nose was a
snub, very broad with huge nostrils, his complexion was pale; he had
a large mouth, and big drooping underlip. His short stature, his
lack of proportion in build, and his uncomely features, gave him
the appearance of a half-witted man. But though he was not clever
he was by no means a fool. His character was in accordance with his
appearance. He was a sullen, ill-conditioned, intemperate man.
Stubenrauch had been one of the crowd that had passed by the bed on
which the Duchess lay in state, and had cast covetous eyes at the
jewellery with which the body was adorned. He had also attended the
funeral, and had come to the conclusion that the Duchess was buried
with all the precious articles he had noticed about her, as exposed
to view before the burial, and with a great deal more, which popular
gossip asserted to have been laid in the coffin with her.
The thought of all this waste of wealth clung to his mind, and
Stubenrauch resolved to enter the mausoleum and rob the body. The
position of the vault suited his plans, far removed and concealed
from the palace, and he made little account of locks and bars, which
were likely to prove small hindrances to an accomplished locksmith.
To carry his plan into execution, he resolved on choosing the night
of August 18-19, 1832. On this evening he sat drinking in a low
tavern till 10 o'clock, when he left, returned to his lodgings,
where he collected the tools he believed he would require, a candle
and flint and steel, and then betook himself to the mausoleum.
In the first place, he found it necessary to climb over a wall of
boards that encircled the portion of the grounds where was the
mausoleum, and then, when he stood before the building, he found
that to effect an entrance would take him more time and give him
more work than he had anticipated.
The mausoleum was closed by an iron gate formed of strong bars eight
feet high, radiating from a centre in a sort of semicircle and armed
with sharp spikes. He found it impossible to open the lock, and he
was therefore obliged to climb over the gate, regardless of the
danger of tearing himself on the barbs. There was but a small space
between the spikes and the arch of the entrance, but through this
he managed to squeeze his way, and so reach the interior of the
building, without doing himself any injury.
Here he found a double stout oaken door in the floor that gave
access to the vault. The two valves were so closely dovetailed
into one another and fitted so exactly, that he found the utmost
difficulty in getting a tool between them. He tried his false keys
in vain on the lock, and for a long time his efforts to prise the
lock open with a lever were equally futile. At length by means of
a wedge he succeeded in breaking a way through the junction of the
doors, into which he could insert a bar, and then he heaved at one
valve with all his might, throwing his weight on the lever. It took
him fully an hour before he could break open the door. Midnight
struck as the valve, grating on its hinges, was thrown back. But
now a new and unexpected difficulty presented itself. There was no
flight of steps descending into the vault, as he had anticipated,
and he did not know the depth of the lower pavement from where he
stooped, and he was afraid to light a candle and let it down to
explore the distance.
But Stubenrauch was not a man to be dismayed by difficulties. He
climbed back over the iron-spiked gates into the open air, and
sought out a long and stout pole, with which to sound the depth, so
as to know what measures he was to take to descend. Going into the
Ducal orchard, he pulled up a pole to which a fruit tree was tied,
and dragged it to the mausoleum, and with considerable difficulty
got it through the gateway, which he again surmounted with caution
and without injury to himself.
Then, leaning over the opening, holding the pole in both hands, he
endeavoured to feel the depth of the vault. In so doing he lost his
balance, and the weight of the pole dragged him down, and he fell
between two coffins some twelve feet below the floor of the upper
chamber. There he lay for some little while unconscious, stunned by
his fall. When he came to himself, he sat up, felt about with his
hands to ascertain where he was, and considered what next should be
done.