Rashi's Daughters, Book II: Miriam (2 page)

Ben Zoma said: Who is wise? One who learns from everyone. As it is written (Psalms 119:99), “From all my teachers I have gained understanding.” Who is strong? One who conquers his
yetzer
. As it is written (Proverbs 16:32), “One who is slow to anger is better than the mighty and one who controls his spirit than one who captures a city.” Who is rich? One who is content with his portion. As it is written (Psalms 128:2), “You shall eat from the labor of your hands; you shall be happy.”

 

—Mishnah Tractate Avot, chapter 4

FOR THE JEWS OF NORTHERN FRANCE, times had never been better than in the second half of the eleventh century. Relations with their Christian neighbors were tolerant, even amiable on occasion, since the Church was too busy rooting out heretical sects and implementing Pope Gregory’s controversial reforms to concern itself with the Jews. European society was entering 150 years of advances in political organization, economics, scientific pursuit, and education, in what is now called the Twelfth-Century Renaissance.

Under the feudal system, the Jews’ social status was high, equal to that of knights. The Jewish trader was a welcome visitor to French estates, bringing news of the outside world, buying their surfeit produce, and selling them imported goods. Jews were moneylenders much as department stores and gasoline companies are today; if their customers received the bulk of their income at harvest time, for example, merchants extended them credit until then.

As Christian Europe’s resources grew, Jews bought wheat, wool, wine, and steel, and then transported it to the Muslim East, where they sold it for a profit. In return they acquired silk, cotton, spices, and jewels, which they brought back to the West, sold for another profit, and began the cycle again. Everyone prospered.

The Jews of Troyes benefited greatly from this commercial success. Under the enlightened sovereignty of Count Thibault, the great fairs of Champagne attracted merchants from throughout the known world, many of them learned in Jewish Law. Credit was extended from one fair to the next, in this infancy of the modern banking system. Since local middlemen collected a percentage of every sale, the Jews of Troyes became so affluent that even the poorest families had servants.

In 1068, one of these families was that of twenty-eight-year-old Rabbi Salomon ben Isaac, who would be known and revered centuries later as Rashi, one of Judaism’s greatest scholars. After fifteen years studying in Germany’s finest Talmudic academies, he was forced to return home to manage the family vineyard, which had fallen into decline due to his mother’s senility. With no sons, and desperate from having to give up his yeshiva studies, Salomon broke with tradition and secretly began teaching Talmud to his daughters, Joheved and Miriam.

But Salomon did not lack male students for long. Isaac haParnas, the leader of the Jewish community, saw an opportunity to attract more Jewish merchants to the fairs in Troyes by establishing a Talmud academy there. He offered Salomon a generous salary to teach his grandsons, and other boys soon joined them, forming the nucleus of a new yeshiva. To ensure that Salomon had sufficient time to teach, Isaac haParnas partnered with him in the wine business, which finally lifted the vintner’s family out of poverty.

Salomon also had time to begin writing his twin commentaries on the Bible and the Talmud. His Bible commentary is so authoritative that today it is studied in every rabbinic school. Yet his extraordinarily clear and concise commentary on the Talmud is his true magnum opus. Since the Talmud was first printed in the fifteenth century, his words have filled the inside column of every page of every copy. Today more Jews read Rashi’s words than those of any other Jewish scholar.

Not surprisingly, Salomon’s daughters found their fiancés among his students. First Joheved was betrothed to Meir ben Samuel, a lord’s son from nearby Ramerupt. Miriam, however, enjoyed a love match with Benjamin ben Reuben, son of a vintner in Rheims. Her initial compassion for the homesick youth blossomed into a deeper feeling as they worked together in Salomon’s vineyard. Joheved, terrified that Meir would discover that she knew Talmud, tried to hide her learning from him. But Miriam suffered no such fears with Benjamin, and the two of them would often study Salomon’s lessons together.

Over the next several years, Salomon’s yeshiva thrived as more and more foreign merchants studied with him during the semiannual fairs, and then sent their sons to him during the year. His family grew as well when his wife, Rivka, gave birth to another daughter, Rachel. Miriam was so helpful during the delivery that the midwife, her Aunt Sarah, began training her as an apprentice.

Miriam learned to grow her own midwife’s herbs and to find the others she needed in the local forest; she helped deliver Countess Adelaide’s baby during a complicated childbirth, thereby saving both the countess and the child; she prepared and administered an abortion potion for Catharina, an unmarried childhood friend; and she successfully delivered Joheved’s first child.

All this time, Miriam and Joheved continued to study Talmud with their father. When their grandmother died, they took over her position leading services for the women in synagogue, and though they didn’t seek it, they were on the way to assume leadership in the community of Jewish women. But Miriam gave no thought to the future of Troyes’ Jews or her possible role in it. At seventeen years old, she was focused on her own future as she and Benjamin eagerly prepared for their wedding.

M
iriam silently took her place on the bench she shared with Benjamin. As soon as her father finished blessing the bread, she casually let her hand drop below the table so her fiancé could take hold of it. They’d been betrothed five years, ever since she was twelve, and now their wedding was less than three months away. She blinked back tears of joy. Soon she and Benjamin could be alone together whenever they wanted, could kiss without worrying that someone would catch them. She gazed wistfully at her older sister, Joheved, sitting opposite her with baby Isaac on her lap, and gave Benjamin’s hand a gentle squeeze. Next year, Le Bon Dieu willing, she’d be holding a baby too.

Benjamin turned to Miriam and smiled. She reached up to smooth her hair into place and realized that she’d left her veil upstairs. Today, however, she was lucky; none of the scholars joining Papa for
disner
were strangers, so she did not need a head covering. Mama, of course, always covered her hair and neck, no matter how hot the weather, even when she was just eating breakfast with the family.

Miriam sighed with relief when Aunt Sarah walked in late from visiting Yvette, who had given birth two days ago. But her relief disappeared when her aunt whispered something to Mama, who immediately frowned in response.

Sarah turned to Miriam. “I don’t think I can go to Ramerupt today, dear. I’m afraid that Yvette may be developing a fever, and I want to look in on her every couple of hours.”

“She was fine when I checked her last night,” Miriam said, half rising from her seat.

“And she’s probably fine now. I expect that she’s only sweating this afternoon because of the heat, but you know we can’t be too careful where the demon Lillit is concerned.”

Miriam nodded. “I suppose I can collect the alkanet leaves by myself.”

Salomon ben Isaac interrupted the heated discussion he was having at the men’s end of the table. “Absolutely not,” he said, shaking a piece of bread at Miriam. “Until Count Thibault catches the highwaymen who’ve been accosting Troyes’ fairgoers, my daughter is not riding alone in the forest.”

“But Papa, those merchants were robbed at the beginning of the Hot Fair. Surely the thieves are far away with their loot by now.” She wasn’t a little girl who needed his protection anymore. “New mothers really need the alkanet salve, Papa, and it’s best picked now before the weather cools.” If she were going to be a midwife like Aunt Sarah, she had to be able to obtain such medicinal herbs when they were available.

“
Non, ma fille
. Not alone.” Salomon noted his normally dutiful daughter’s expression—part disappointed, part resentful. “If you need the stuff that badly, maybe your sister can go with you.”

Nine-year-old Rachel looked up eagerly, and he added, “Your older sister.”

Joheved stifled a yawn. “Not today, please. Little Isaac’s back teeth are coming in, and I spent most of the night trying to comfort him. Mama has generously offered to watch him this afternoon so I can take a nice long nap.” She handed the baby to her husband, Meir, sitting next to her, and cut them more bread.

Benjamin quickly swallowed his mouthful of chicken stew. In just a few days he’d be returning to Rheims to help his family with their wine harvest. Then the next time he’d see Miriam would be after the festival of Sukkot, on their wedding day. “If you can spare me from the vineyard today, Rabbenu, I’ll go with her.”