In the Pale : stories and legends of the Russian Jews

Front matter

ijAm-

FOR HEBREW AND COGNATE LEARNING

STORIES AND LEGENDS OF THE RUSSIAN JEWS

Contents

PAGK

Ezra and Huldah n

The Baai,-Shem and His G01.EM 136

II A Domestic Tragedy

Far away from the benignant clime of northwestern Africa, in the heart of the land of the knout and of Siberian horrors, lies Tchernigoff, the capital of the province of the same name. The macadamized highway from Moscow to Kieff passes through the city, and the Desna flows about a mile away from its suburbs. Tchernigoff has nothing to distinguish it in the annals of the Czar's vast domains. Poorly built, unpaved, badly lighted, unclean, with no favors to thank nature for, except a small park, and no comforts to mark the progress of the century, the unlovely metropolis is inhabited by a drowsy population of over twenty thousand souls. One-third are Jews, the rest are of the Greek Catholic Church. There are two old cathedrals, a number of churches and chapels, four synagogues, a dilapidated fortress, and a large insane asylum. Numerous ruins in and around the city remind one of the Mongolian invasion.

Tchernigoff had been bitterly fought for by Lithuania, Poland, and the Ukraine, before the Cossack entrusted it to the paternal guardianship of the Czar, whose icy grip reduced its pulsations to a tempo ranging between intermittent fever and dreamless somnolence. The sluggish drowsiness of life's monotonous drudgery continues therein year in, year out, except when Muscovite strategy puts battalions in motion. Then, being an administrative centre, Tchernigoff teems with brilliant uniforms, and rings with martial music and military salutes.

Tchernigoff was Reuben Pekarow's native place. His father, a watchmaker, having formed a lofty idea of medicine and jurisprudence, cherished the ambition of seeing his son among professional men. His motive was not love for the sciences. The watchmaker was heard to express his conviction that " lawyers and doctors need no capital, are highly honored, do little, and coin money." Of ^sculapius old Pekarow knew nothing, but he remembered well the big bill he had had to pay the doctor after his wife's death. That inclined his mind in favor of medicine. But had not Moses been the greatest lawyer on earth ? And had not God Himself presented the son of Amram with the chips from the tables of the testimony, the most precious jewels in the universe? Moreover, to dissect bodies was hardly a fit office for an Aaronite, and Pekarow traced his lineage to the first High Priest. These considerations led Pekarow to the final conclusion that his Reuben was destined to practise law.

Reuben justified the most sanguine anticipations of his father. The boy showed great thirst for knowledge, and was a favorite with his teachers. But he early betrayed a tendency towards skepticism and a strong inclination to stay away from the synagogue. At the age of thirteen, however, Reuben, according to time-honored custom, was called up to the Law on a Sabbath in the presence of the congregation, and, after pronouncing the benediction, was declared a member of the community of Israel. The ceremony made no impression on the boy. He had by this time been promoted to the higher grade in the gymnasium. He spent his days with non-Jewish comrades, and, though resenting the gibes freely lavished on his race, felt his Jewish descent to be a burden and a barrier. At the same time his talents met with due recognition, and his graduation at the highschool opened the door of the university in Kieff for him. After three years of close study he left that institution with high honors, and was then admitted to the bar. Pekarow was not a rich man, but he economized for the benefit of his only son, so that when he died, shortly after Reuben's return to Tchernigoff, he left the young attorney a modest competence to begin with. The only wish he uttered on his death-bed was : '' My son, do not marry too early, and choose a wife from a God-fearing family, or you will never be happy." Reuben promised to honor his father's wish.

Legal talent being scant in the provincial metropolis, Reuben soon acquired local renown. At the age of twenty-six he stood at the head of the bar in his birthplace. His faith alone was an obstacle to governmental promotion, but it did not seriously impede his progress toward reputation and wealth.

Stenko Yablow was the name of the lawyer who defended a case against one of Reuben's clients. The litigation involved millions, and the contest between the attorneys was unusually bitter, the matter having come to be looked upon by the legal men of the city as a test of professional superiority. Defeat in this case implied material loss, and, what is much worse, public humiliation for the beaten man. Reuben secured the verdict for his client, and Yablow considered himself a greatly humiliated man — humiliated, too, by a Jew. Hereafter Yablow's entire being was absorbed by one intense passion — vengeance on the Jew. Yablow was wealthy and influential, which made him a dangerous adversary. Reuben was aware of the desperate nature of his enemy, but all his attempts at dignified reconciliation failed.

The first manifestation of Yablow's acrimony was an advertisement in the local paper, that he would hereafter not degrade his orthodox soul by entering into a contest with a descendant of deicides. This was fqllowed up by a number of anonymous articles, wherein the Jews were attacked ferociously, and charged with an assortment of crimes, including the use of Christian blood for ritual purposes. Fortunately, the bulk of the people could not read, so that no immediate harm resulted from the poisoned shafts aimed at the helpless Jews.

Meanwhile Reuben was very happy in his choice of a consort, and was blessed by the birth of a boy as beautiful as the youthful mother. In his profession Reuben stood head and shoulders above his competitors, and his legal advice was sought by clients from outside of the city. Yablow's hatred of the Hebrew jurist appeared to have died, for years passed, and nothing occurred to warn Reuben that an act of hostility was contemplated by his enemy. Yablow was rarely seen at court, and was often out of town for months. The Hebrew, on the other hand, pursued his vocation with marked success, spending every spare hour with his wife and child. The boy flourished, reached the age of four, a flower of beauty and intelligence, and there was no happier couple in the world than Reuben Pekarow and his wife, whose charms were idolized with such religious ardor as transformed the home of the skeptic into a temple and his table into an altar. Reuben learnt to respect prayer, and this was much.

One day Nachom, the child of the house, did not return from his daily walk with his Christian nurse, who had had charge of him since his tender infancy. It was nightfall; it became night; the darkness of ominous apprehension settled on the alarmed parents ; the child and the nurse were gone. The evening advanced, the police were notified, the night passed, the sun rose on a home of desolation and despair. Nurse and child had disappeared. Rewards were offered, city and suburbs were searched ; in vain, not a trace was found, as though the earth had swallowed woman and child. Day followed day, the parents lived in an agony of suspense. Weeks ran into months ; the autumn was followed by winter, the springtide was near, but no clue was found to account for the disappearance of the woman and her charge. What had become of them ? This was a question nobody could answer. In his heart Reuben felt that Yablow had had something to do with his great loss, but he dared not give utterance to his suspicion, and his anguish had to be suppressed in face of the delicate state of the health of his wife, who was yearning for her first-born son. Passover arrived, bringing new joy to the house of Pekarow. Had little Nachom been found ? No ! But a new life, a daughter, came, a cherub to soothe the aching hearts of the disconsolate family. It was a great joy tempered by great sorrow.

At this time a rumor spread in the city that, when the tide had cleared the Desna of ice, a woman had been found entangled in the wood-work of the long bridge that spans the river about two miles from Tchernigoff, in the direction of Kieff. Reuben was one of the first to hurry to the scene. The drowned woman was identified as poor Barbara, the nurse who had disappeared with little Nachom. Who had drowned the Christian woman ? Who but the Jews ? Do they not use Christian blood to prepare their unleavened cakes? This cry was raised by Yablow, and echoed by a priest, who took up the matter before the police had had time to look into it. An infuriated mob descended on the house of Reuben, howling, and raving, and clamoring : '' The Jews have killed her — they have drunk her blood — tear down the house of the Jew — kill the Jew!"

A shower of stones shattered every window. Reuben happened to be out, unaware of the peril that hovered over his wife and babe. Friends came in time to save the infant, which was found alive in the arms of its dead mother. A stone had struck the head of Reuben's wife, who had shielded the child with her body. Reuben Pekarow appeared on the scene to receive his share of the mob's fury. The police rescued him broken and bleeding, all but dead. Many other Jewish houses were wrecked and despoiled.

For months Reuben was thought to be beyond recovery. When, after long suffering, it was possible for him to leave his bed, he stood there a wreck of his former self, a caricature in body, a cynic in mind, a misanthrope in heart. Was not humanity a prodigious herd of wild beasts ? That carnivorous biped, man, how he hated him ! And what had he to live for? His wife's grave, alas, his wife's grave ! Ay, and the baby. Between the graveyard and the cradle that held his motherless infant Reuben's time and heart were divided. He neither wept nor smiled. The tears seemed to have congealed in his eyes, hanging therein unshed. Not until angelic Huldah blessed him with her first smile did his agony find articulate speech. Yes, the babe was alive. She needed his care. Love asserted its sway, and life claimed its own.

Time, the healer of wounds, the soother of pains, restored Reuben to a degree of self-composure, though never to happiness, his memories being too dark to be brightened or effaced. Yet Huldah's inexpressible loveliness, her tremulous voice heard in the articulation of prayer, the mystic glow in her eyes, which harbored a heaven of sweetness for him whom she was destined to love, poured healing into Reuben's heart. Whatever charm art and culture could add to her native beauty, the prodigal father secured for his child, regardless of cost. Hers was the house, and she the inspiring soul thereof. Her laugh, her song, her touch of the piano's keyboard, her kiss, made summer in the breast of an idolizing parent. Her professors of music and foreign languages assured Reuben that there was enough of the princess in his daughter to grace a royal palace, as though he had had any doubt of it.

When the girl completed her sixteenth year, she stood in the exuberance of feminine grace, every inch a Hebe. Perfectly unaffected, unconscious of her bewitching loveliness, she looked into the beholder's eye with a dreamy gaze as mysterious as the azure, as deep and as calm. Her look distracted her admirers, who nicknamed her " the angelic Lilith." Her speech was a succession of sweet notes. Whoever heard her sing stood as if petrified by her voice, flowing, swelling, and melting, seizing heart and soul, sounding the unfathomed deeps of human woe, a power superhuman, sweeter than the song of nightingale and holier than prayer. Gentle as she appeared, her external appearance gave no idea of her intensity of temperament, her dynamic energy slumbering like a dormant volcano. Of stately build, tastefully dressed, of a complexion such as painters are wont to give to the graces, Huldah impressed romantic minds as the fairy of an enchanted castle. She had inherited the reverence and piety of a noble mother, and she combined in her nature the two rare extremes of masculine fearlessness and feminine delicacy.

Before Huldah had reached her nineteenth year, she was forced to make a determined stand against the intrusive ShadcJian, whom she treated with scorn. Nor did overtures, made by families of standing anxious to capture the maiden's heart for a cherished youth, meet with more encouragement. The girl had a mind of her own, and her will was the Supreme Court in Reuben's household. The only reason for wishing to see his daughter married were the pestering attentions paid her by certain distinguished officers of the army, who had the impudence to bow to her whenever they chanced to meet her in the street. One of these was General Greboff, whose residence faced that of Reuben. There was nothing to be done but to treat the intruders with contempt, and this nobody understood better than Huldah, who knew how to avoid unpleasant meetings, and not to notice those she could not avoid. Her father felt uneasy, however, and at her request he furnished her with a pocket revolver.

A noteworthy incident in the life of the Jews in Tchernigoff at the date we are speaking of was the arrival of a famous young Chazan, who was destined to play an important part in the domestic concerns of Reuben Pekarow. Ezra Amitin had barely passed his twenty-third year when fame declared him the greatest man of his calling in Russian Jewry. The singing and chanting in the synagogue he raised to the dignity of art, and he performed his sacred functions with a power of soul thitherto unknown. His influence over those whom he led in worship could not be excelled by magic. As a rule the Russian Chazan has a chorus to accompany him. Amitin was himself a chorus, yea, an orchestra, all centred in a throat that gave forth every note of the gamut to perfection. Simple-minded people maintained that Ezra

Amitin's larynx was lined with golden chords. He put a new meaning into every Hebrew syllable. With him recitation meant pouring out the spirit of the Hebraic poet or prophet on the enchanted audience. Whether he read or sang, it was felt that he told the great tale of Israel's triumph and martyrdom. The congregation followed him in tears or in ecstasy, according to the purport of the recital. Youth, good humor, a certain degree of culture and refinement, personal magnetism, and fertility of imagination, which insured for him the reputation of a consummate story-teller, combined to make the youthful CJiazan a welcome guest in every distinguished family, so that even Reuben Pekarow was attracted by his personality.

Amitin's first performance in the most aristocratic synagogue of Tchernigoff struck the congregation with astonishment. No mocking-bird could have imitated every variety of note produced by nature or art with greater accuracy than the wonderful Chazan. It was noticed that he possessed the ventriloquist's faculty of singing with lips closed, a feat the immortal Weintraub could not have performed. Furthermore, Weintraub, of blessed memory, used to swim in perspiration while officiating, and had to change his clothing after the service, every article of his wear being as greasy as though it had been stewed in a saucepan. Amitin, on the contrary, caused others to perspire, keeping himself as cool and dry as a windy autumn day. Something within him did the work, and that something was the puzzle of the wisest heads. It was the next thing to a miracle, and the youth was the cynosure of the community.

As Amitin happened to arrive in the city shortly before the great Holy Days, he was offered inducements to stay and officiate on the New Year and the Day of Atonement. Reuben was strongly impressed by the endowments of the youth, and, being a power in the synagogue, he craved the honor of harboring the CJiazan under his roof. His secret motive was Huldah's pleasure, for she was both religious and musical.

In earlier years Reuben had adorned himself with the colorless feathers of morbid skepticism. Misfortune had opened his eyes to the vanity of things transitory. He had moments of serious meditation, while Huldah's ardor in matters sacred was contagious enough to turn a heathen into an observing Jew.

Therefore, a formal invitation was extended to the CJiazan to take up his quarters in Reuben Pekarow's commodious home, and the proffered hospitality met with due appreciation. The fact is that somebody had whispered into Amitin's ear that he was going to be near a peerless maiden, but she was described as very haughty and inaccessible, all of which tended to raise his curiosity.

Reuben bade a cordial welcome to his guest, installed him in one of the best rooms of his house, and urged him to make himself perfectly at home. From his windows Amitin could look out upon the trees and the green of a spacious yard guarded by high walls, and adorned by a few irregular beds of flowers, somewhat withered by the cool nights of approaching autumn. To one of the branches a parrot was chained. The bird shook its head drowsily, when aroused by a whistle from a lower window, followed by a laugh, which electrified the Chasan. ''Sing: do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do!" To this call of the sweetest feminine voice the bird responded instantly, repeating the notes parrot-like to the great delight of the prompter. The laugh and the voice vibrated in Amitin's ear. He looked at his watch to see if the hour fixed for his first meal in Reuben's house had come; it was time for him to go down, and the next moment he found himself before the ideal of his dreams.

Amitin's first meeting with Huldah meant to him either nameless f elicit}^ or selfdestruction. It was the old story of Adam and Eve, with no Milton to immortalize the divine madness without which Eden is a desert. The CJiazans peace of soul was gone. If, up to this time, he had swayed the heart of everyone within reach of his voice, love infused into his breast tenderness so eloquent and appealing- that it proved as resistless as the song- of the Sirens. His worship of God was intensified by his worship of Huldah. It was a fusion of fiery love with ardent devotion.

On New Year and on the Day of Atonement the Jewish liturgy recites the world's grandest epic, enacted by Israel during a career of four thousand years. The service is priestly, poetic, and prophetic, and its transcendental elements overtop all philosophy. Divine grandeur is contrasted with human insignificance ; the immutable is held up in the face of earthly change and mortality. Providence is traced in the world's annals. The Jew's mission is emphasized. Mankind is prayed for. Great historic events, happy and sad, are rehearsed with joy, or referred to with pious resignation. What an opportunity for a melodious voice to touch every chord on the responsive harp of the Jewish heart! Yea, centuries of agony and anguish, of tears and triumph, are treasured in the traditional songs unknown beyond the walls of the hoary Synagogue.

Amitin's interpretation of text and melody showed him to be a master in the Chazans calling. The portion of the service wherein the giving of the Law is reviewed on New Year, he rendered with dramatic vividness, so intense that the worshippers thought that they saw Horeb in flames and all the incidents of the Sinaitic revelation. Similar was the impression he produced by reciting the Temple Service on the Day of Atonement. No wonder that the people raved over the youthful CJiazan. Only a few enjoyed the privilege of meeting him at Reuben's house. The hospitable jurist thought it his duty to entertain his guest, but he himself and his friends were entertained instead. The great feature of the social gathering were the thrilling duets sung by the Cliazan and the daughter of the house, varied by talk about the newest local sensation, the recent return of Dinka Edelberg and her son from Moscow and her remarkable adventure. The heroine was present, and her presence was of dimensions not to be overlooked.

Dinka Edelberg was a widow in the fifties, a woman of great courage and self-sacrifice, and of a circumference which made it hard for another person to pass by her side through an ordinary door. She believed in miracles, and protected herself against evil spirits by a number of amulets, which she knew how to associate with a stirring story, bearing on what she considered the triumph of her life. Pointing to the tooth of a wolf set in silver, and used as a breast-pin, she caused the blood of the company to run cold through their veins by telling them how she had come into possession of the lupine ornament.

It should be stated that Dinka Edelberg was entitled to special consideration mainly on account of her truly heroic effort to rescue her idiotic son from his sad lot in the army, into which, under the iron rule of Nicholas the Cruel, he had been drafted at the age of fourteen. The boy's idiocy made his military master despair of ever teaching him how to tell his right arm from his left. In vain poor Isaac received his full share of the birch rod. The creature was a perfect simpleton, and finally became an object of pity even to his hard-hearted batchuska. That made it possible for Dinka to attempt her child's liberation, but it could not be effected without a vast deal of petitioning, praying, hoping, and waiting, not to mention the bribes handed in the shape of presents to those in authority. " Yes," she said to one of the gathering, as she glanced at her cheap little silver watch, "the one set with diamonds, which my poor husband bought for me shortly before he died, I begged Colonel Tukatchoff to accept as a remembrance, you know, or I should never have seen my Isaac in our synagogue."

Jacob Edelberg, Dinka's late husband, was remembered as a wealthy dealer in grain and an enthusiastic Kabbalist. With his last breath he promised his wife to be with her in spirit, whenever she invoked his help. Dinka was successful in all her undertakings, and she ascribed her success to the constant guardianship of her lamented husband, in accordance with the notions current in Slavonic Israel and far beyond its bounds. The woman was sure that her departed consort was with her, and on this occasion she justified her conviction by telling- a thrilling experience she had had on her way from Moscow to Tchernigoff.

*' Speak of wonders ! " she began. '' We left Moscow as soon as my child was delivered to me, that was two days after my interview with the Governor, who shook my hand, and said: ' Dinka, you are a brave woman.' I trembled from head to foot, my heart palpitated, and I was not at all sorry when the police ordered me to leave the city before sunset, no Jewess being allowed to stay there longer than her permit specifies.

" It was a December evening, bitter cold, and a snow-storm set in as the open sleigh which I had hired passed through the suburbs of Moscow. The driver, a powerful Russian, had a double-barrelled gun with him. He loaded it carefully, and filled a small leather bag with shot. I did not like to have the gun near me in the sleigh, but he reassured me, adding that we might be glad to have the weapon with us. Two spirited horses had carried us easily along the highway for about twenty versts beyond the city, when I noticed a number of lights, as of a hundred lanterns, flitting about in the darkness of a snowy night. The horses pricked up their ears and shuddered. I did not realize our danger until I heard the driver invoke the assistance of his saints, and saw him repeatedly make the sign of the cross. ' At least fifty of the savage beasts,' murmured he, drawing forth his gun, and preparing to fire.

" ' Fifty wolves ! ' exclaimed I in terror.

" ' Fully fifty. I can kill off a score of them. If their flesh gluts the others, we shall reach the next hostelry alive ; if not, the Lord be gracious unto us. Here, hold the reins, the horses will not bolt,' said the Russian quietly.

" Bang, bang ! There were too many of the hungry brutes for one shot to miss them. One fell after the other, but the pack seemed to grow rather than to dwindle, and the carcasses were devoured by them in less time than it takes to tell. The man loaded again and again, no discharge ever missing its aim. The horses kept close to each other, snorting and tearing away at break-neck speed. The fiery eyes grew less and less. Suddenly, as we approached a bridge which we had to cross, we lighted on another pack of wolves, fully as numerous as the one which we hoped to have escaped, but which came up with us the next moment.

" ' We are lost; my bag is empty ! ' cried the Russian, seizing the reins and giving the horses free play. We swept over the bridge like the wind, the beasts close at our heels. I threw my arms around my terrified child, and fervidly invoked the spirit of my husband to help us in our distress. Our situation was desperate. The wolves outran the horses, trying to cut us off, and there was no refuge in sight. The good horses tore away like a storm, but the end appeared to be near, when I heard the Russian exclaim : ' Jesus and Mary ! ' A glance to our right revealed an apparition that filled me with amazement. Beside our sleigh, mounted on a magnificent black steed, noiselesslygalloped a majestic figure, brandishing a flashing blade of steel, which sent forth a shower of sparks like a rocket. Horse and rider skimmed over the soft snow, leaving no trace of a hoof on the surface. In a moment the wolves fell back and vanished. The glimmer of a bright window and the barking of a dog assured us of the shelter we had prayed for. Our ghostly escort slackened pace, allowing the horses to gain on it. On turning my head backward, I found that it was gone.

*' * St. Elia has saved our lives, Jewess,* said the driver, as we entered the friendly inn. Grateful tears filled my eyes. I said nothing in reply, but I knew that my poor husband had been with us. He has never failed me when I have invoked him — never in danger, as, for instance, in the second miracle of my life," closed the woman insinuatingly.

Had Dinka's assertions in this narrative been questioned, the company would have been doomed to listen to a phantasmagoric sketch of what she termed the " second miracle" of her life, her recent escape from the horns of a vicious animal. Dinka derived her sustenance from a dairy. In the pinched state of Russo-Judean life in the smaller places, a cow is a source of plenty and of some revenue. In those regions meat is not tasted from Sabbath to Sabbath, and milk, cheese, and butter are, next to ryebread, the staple articles of food. But not everyone enjoys the blessing of having even a goat, the next good thing to a cow, so that small dairies insure a sufficient income to account for their frequency. The trouble in their case is the SJiabbcs-Goyc, or non- Jewish assistant, called in to milk the animals on the Sabbath. As a rule, the Shabbes-Goye needs watching, not alone because she has a kosher article in trust, without being trusted, but more on account of the alarming tendency of valuable trinkets to disappear the moment she passes through a room. Nor has it been found expedient to charge her with larceny, and take her before the ispravnik, or chief of police. This would not pay at all.

Now, Dinka had a number of trinkets in her house, and she needed the services of the Shabbes-Goye. Dinka did like her neighbors ; she had an eye on the Goye, following her like her shadow. Unfortunately cows are not the most reasonable of creatures, as the pious woman learned to her chagrin. For, as she entered her stable on a Sabbath, close upon her Goyes heels, she incurred the displeasure of her finest cow, an animal of the Ukraine, and the brute lost no time in manifesting distaste for Dinka's gaudy attire in her own way. What the woman dimly remembered was a shock, flight through the air, and descent on a stack of hay. The hay was soft, so was Dinka, who came off with nothing worse than a great fright and the loss of half of her dress. Onehalf of her Sabbath garment remained in the undisputed possession of the animal, which seemed to be conscious of her trophy. The Goye was in a hurry to seek

6o IN THE PALE

shelter where all heroic bull-fighters find safety, that is, behind a wall. Thereafter Dinka, having- recovered from her shock, affirmed that she had seen the shadowy figure of her late husband interpose itself between her and the infuriated brute, and she embellished her account so extravagantly that even her most credulous friends hesitated to accept her statement without due allowance for an overheated fancy.