A Hebrew Debate Poem from Medieval England

Abstract

Very few Hebrew poems are known to have survived from medieval England. A newly discovered poem found in Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, MS Ebr. 402 and attributed to a Jew from Saltwharf, a London street on the north shore of the Thames, is published and discussed here. The verses belong to the genre of debate poem. They describe an argument between the components of a candle, the wick and the tallow, each claiming the prestige of the candle's flame. Linguistic hints and the historical and ritual uses of tallow in medieval Europe suggest that this poem is a metaphorical critique of Jewish religious authenticity.

VERY FEW HEBREW poems are known from the Jewish settlement in medieval England, which began in the wake of the Norman Conquest and came to an end with the expulsion of 1290. The best known, and most prolific, Anglo-Jewish poet from the Middle Ages known today was Meir ben Elijah of Norwich, who was probably active some time during the thirteenth century.¹ Cecil Roth noted poetic passages included within Hebrew books on other topics—Moses ben ha-Nesiah's grammatical work Sefer ha-Shoham, which contains introductory poems, and three or four liturgical poems found in Jacob Hazan of London's legal compendium Etz Hayyim.² Berechiah ha-Nakdan, who probably spent a portion of his career in England during the twelfth century, wrote a cycle of short philosophical poems, but it cannot be determined where he was living when he composed it.³ The discovery of a poem (and possibly more) by a previously unknown poet from medieval London, within the folios of Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana MS Ebr. 402, is therefore an exciting revelation and a significant addition to the literary corpus of medieval English Jewry.

The significance of MS Ebr. 402 for Anglo-Jewish history was first recognized in the nineteenth century, when the poems of Meir ben Elijah of Norwich were discovered within its folios.⁴ On the basis of this discovery, it was suggested that the manuscript as a whole was produced in England—a suggestion that was later rejected by experts in Hebrew paleography, since its quires do not contain the double pricking in the inner and outer margins of every sheet (to guide the ruling of lines) that they identified as a defining feature of pre-1264 English manuscripts.⁵ Malachi Beit-Arie, the dean of Hebrew manuscript studies, initially claimed that the poems contained in the Vatican manuscript had been copied as an independent codicological unit that was attached to the rest of the codex at a later date.⁶ However, when he examined the manuscript in situ some twenty years later, Beit-Arie concluded that the manuscript formed a single codicological unit that was produced by four scribes in the early to mid-thirteenth century.⁷ Meir of Norwich's poems appear on fols. 114v-117r, in a section copied by the second and fourth scribes and therefore were apparently included in the original composition of the codex. An additional section of MS Ebr. 402 with a likely English element is found on fols. 1r-23r, a section copied jointly by the first and second scribe.⁸ This section, which opens the codex, contains the only surviving exemplar of Sefer ha-Galuy, a work of biblical lexicography by Joseph Kimhi.⁹ Kimhi's work was preserved in Ebr. 402 accompanied by critical comments by a scholar named Benjamin.¹⁰ Emanuel Bluth suggested that the glossator should be identified as Benjamin of Cambridge, whose name appears in the Northampton Donum of 1194 as the wealthiest Jew in Cambridge.¹¹ These two works by English authors do not necessarily lead to the conclusion that the entire codex was produced in England, but they certainly reinforce its English connection.

The Vatican manuscript contains another, hitherto unnoticed, English composi-tion.¹² The very last folio of the codex contains a number of short poems that were probably added in the vacant space left after the original manuscript was complet-ed.¹³ One of these poems identifies its author as "Menahem, son of Rabbi R. Jacob Solomon, of melah rppa."¹⁴ Melah is a Hebrew word meaning salt, while "rppa" is probably a Hebrew transcription of the Latin ripa, meaning "bank of a river, or a wharf."¹⁵ Combined, they form a translation of "Saltwharf," a section or street in the medieval London neighbourhood of Queenhithe, on the north bank of the Thames.¹⁶

The Jewish community of medieval London was concentrated in the vicinity of Cheapside, a few streets to the north of Queenhithe, but some Jews lived outside that area.¹⁷ Queenhithe was an important commercial hub that also included residential buildings from the twelfth century onwards.¹⁸ As its name implied, Saltwharf was associated with the import and commerce in salt.¹⁹ Menahem of Saltwharf may have lived in the area, away from other Jews. Alternatively, he (or his father) may have been a merchant, with business interests on the wharf, who did not actually reside there.²⁰ I have not located Menahem's name, nor his father's, in published documents from the period. Based on its location at the end of the Vatican codex, and on the assumption that it was Menahem himself who inscribed his lines into the manuscript, it seems reasonable to assume that he lived sometime between the middle of the thirteenth century and the termination of the Jewish community of England in 1290. If so, this would confirm the manuscript's presence in England after its completion, while leaving open the question of where it was originally produced.

The poem itself is short, comprising two rhyming strophes—the first with four lines in Sephardic meter and the second with six lines and no recognizable meter. It is introduced by a short explanation, and each section carries a heading. As the introductory explanation makes explicit, this is a debate poem, pitting against each other the two components of a candle—the wick and the tallow.

The genre of debate poems is rich and ancient, appearing in a wide variety of cultures.²¹ Many poems frame debates between dichotomous ideas or concepts, such as body and soul or Judaism and Christianity.²² Over centuries, though, poets utilized the debate framework to explore the rival virtues of innumerable pairs of cities, people male and female, animals and inanimate objects.²³ The genre was very popular in medieval England, and it is tempting to locate Menahem's poem within a Middle English context.²⁴ However, a fair number of Hebrew debate poems were composed throughout the Jewish world during the Middle Ages.²⁵ Abraham ibn Ezra, who visited England himself during the twelfth century and whose compositions would have been familiar to northern European Jews of the thirteenth century, wrote a number of poems in this genre pitting summer against winter, the Sabbath against festival days, and more.²⁶ It is therefore difficult to point to a specific vector of cultural influence in Menahem's choice of poetic genre.

The material aspects of the poem are more specific to the region of England. The use of tallow for lighting was typical in northern Europe, while in the south oil lamps were the norm.²⁷ In medieval Christian society, expensive wax candles were often reserved for liturgical use while the cheaper tallow—rendered from animal fat—was used for secular contexts.²⁸ A similar distinction existed among Jews, where wax candles were preferred for use in the synagogue.²⁹ Jewish sensitivity to the profane connotation of tallow was heightened by the concern that drops of non-kosher fat might drip onto food or eating utensils, causing serious religious problems.³⁰

The religious and aesthetic connotations of tallow may provide some insight into the literary meaning of this poem. Debate poems between inanimate objects are generally understood as metaphors for other, usually philosophical, questions. In this case, the issue at root seems to be religious authenticity and the problem of external perception of piety as opposed to internal truth.³¹ The flame presents itself as all-powerful, encompassing opposites (warm and cold, dark and light) and—like God (Deuteronomy 4:24 and elsewhere)—a consuming fire. The tallow responds that, unlike the everlasting deity, the wick will be eventually be reduced to ash. Conceding that it would also be debased by the burning candle, the tallow presents its deterioration as an act of pious expiation. This echoes a prayer that, according to the Babylonian Talmud, was recited by Rav Sheshet on fastdays:³²

Lord of the world, it is clear to You that in the time that the Temple was standing, [if] a person would sin [then] he would bring a sacrifice and [although] all that was offered was its fat (helev) and blood, it would atone for him. Now I have kept a fast, and my own fat (helev) and blood have been diminished. May it be Your will to consider my diminished fat and blood as if they were offered before You on the [Temple] altar, and regard me favourably.

Like Rav Sheshet in the Talmud whose fat was consumed by his asceticism, the tallow points to its reduction as testimony to its piety. Less brilliant and ethereal than the light of the wick, offensive to the senses of smell and touch, undervalued by society, the tallow lays claim to a more authentic and internal religiosity.

The discovery of a poem by a London Jew, with its pithy blend of humour and piety, constitutes a small but significant contribution to the history of Jewish culture in medieval England.

Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana MS Ebr. 402, fol. 125r

(I composed this about the wick holding a debate with the tallow,Menahem ben Rabbi R. Jacob Solomon of Melah Rippa.

This is the response of the wick to the tallow:I am hot, I am cold,I am dark, I am light.Fire and conflagration around meLike fire devouring the forest.

The response of the tallow to the wick:Why do you exalt and praise yourself?Once consumed, you will cover yourself with dust!You will smell foul and smoky when you are dead and dark!Behold, with my fat and my flesh, I will atone for my sin as I turn foul.)