King For Three Days

Godfrey de Bouillon was a famous warrior, a daring general and bold leader of men, who gained victories in several countries. And so, in the year 1095, when the first Crusade was being organized, he was given command of one of the armies and led it across Europe in the historic march to the Holy Land.

Like many great soldiers of his time, Godfrey was a cruel man, and above all, he hated the Jews.

"In this, our Holy War," he said to his men, "we shall slay all the children of Israel wherever we find them. I will not rest until I have exterminated the Jews."

True to his monstrous oath, Godfrey and his soldiers massacred large numbers of Jews. They did this without pity or mercy, saying, "We are performing a sacred duty, for we have the blessing of the priests on our enterprise."

Godfrey felt sure he would be victorious, but he also wanted to obtain the blessing of a rabbi. It was a curious desire, but in those days such things were not considered strange, and so Godfrey de Bouillon sent for the learned Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac, better known by his world-famous name of Rashi.

Rashi, one of the wisest sages of the Jews, came to Godfrey, and the two men stood facing each other.

"You have heard of my undertaking to capture Jerusalem," said Godfrey haughtily.

"I demand your blessing on my venture."

"Blessings are not in the gift of man; they are bestowed by Heaven on worthy objects," answered Rashi.

"Do not trifle with words," retorted the warrior, "or they may cost you dear. A holy man can invoke a blessing."

But Rashi was not afraid. He was becoming an old man then, but he was as brave as the swaggering soldier, and he faced Godfrey unflinchingly.

"I cannot claim the God of Israel on behalf of one who has sworn to destroy all the descendants of His chosen people," he said.

"So, ho!" exclaimed Godfrey. "You defy me."

But he stopped his angry words abruptly. He had no wish to quarrel with any holy man, for that might make him nervous. And nervousness, then, was misunderstood as superstition. Besides, the rabbi might curse him.

"If you will not bless," he said, "perhaps you will deign to lift the veil of the future for me. You wise men of the Jews are seers and can foretell events—so they say. A hundred thousand chariots filled with brave, determined, and strong soldiers are at my command. Tell me, shall I succeed or fail?"

"You will do both," Rashi replied.

"What do you mean?" demanded Godfrey angrily.

"Jerusalem will fall to you. So it is ordained, and you will become its king."

"Ha! So you deem it wisest to pronounce a blessing after all," interrupted Godfrey. "I am satisfied."

"I have not spoken all," said the rabbi gravely. "Three days you will rule and no more."

Godfrey turned pale.

"Shall I return?" he asked slowly.

"Not with your multitude of chariots. Your vast army will have dwindled to three horses and three men when you reach this city."

"Enough," cried Godfrey. "If you think to frighten me with these ominous words, you fail. And listen, Rabbi of the Jews, your words will be remembered. Should they prove incorrect in the smallest detail—if I am king of Jerusalem for four days, or return with four horsemen—you shall pay the penalty of a false prophet and be burned to death. Do you understand? You shall be put to death."

"I understand well," returned Rashi, quite unmoved. "It is a sentence which you and your kind love to pronounce with or without the sanction of those whom you call your holy men. It is not I who fear, Godfrey de Bouillon. I do not seek to peer into the future to assure my own safety."

With these words they parted, the rabbi returning to his prayers and to his studies which have enriched the learning of the Jews, while Godfrey proceeded to lay a trail of innocent Jewish blood along the banks of the Rhine in his march to Palestine.

History has recorded the events of the Crusade. Godfrey, after many battles, besieged the Holy City, captured it, and drove the Jews into one of the synagogues and burned them alive. Eight days afterward, his soldiers raised him on their shields and proclaimed him king.

Godfrey was delighted, but two days later he thought the matter over carefully and decided he could not live in Jerusalem always. So the next day he called his captains together and said:

"You have done me great honor. But I must return to Europe, and it would be more fitting that I should be called Duke of Jerusalem and Guardian of the Holy City rather than its sovereign."

That night, however, he suddenly remembered the prophecy of Rashi.

"For three days I have been king of Jerusalem," he muttered. "The rabbi of the Jews spoke truth."

He could not help wondering whether the rest of the prophecy would be fulfilled, and he became moody. He was joyful when he gained a victory, but there came also disasters, and he was plunged into despair. The reverses affected the spirit of his troops, disease decimated their ranks, and desertions further reduced their numbers. Slowly but surely his mighty army dwindled to a mere handful of dissatisfied men and decrepit horses.

It was a ragged and wretched procession that he led back across Europe, and daily his company grew smaller. Men and horses dropped from sheer fatigue helpless by the wayside, and were left there to die, with hungry vultures perched on trees, patiently waiting for the last flicker of life to depart before they set to work to pick the bones.

Godfrey de Bouillon had gained his victory, but at what cost? Thousands of men, women, and children had been murdered, thousands of his soldiers had fallen in battle, and now hundreds of others had dropped out of the ranks to end their last hours on the ghastly road that led from Jerusalem back to western Europe. Do you wonder that Godfrey was unhappy, and that he thought every moment of the words of Rashi?

At length he reached the city of Worms where Rashi lived. With him were four men, mounted on horses.

"It is well," he said, with as much cheerfulness as he could muster, as he surveyed the remnants of his once proud army. "The rabbi has failed."

Godfrey ordered his men to fall into line behind him and he proudly rode through the gate of the city. As he did so, he heard a cry of alarm. He turned hastily and saw a huge stone falling from the city gate. It dropped on the soldier riding just behind him, killing both man and horse.

Godfrey saw that now only three men accompanied him.

He sent for Rashi, and when the rabbi stood before him, he said: "Wise Rashi, you have spoken truth. Your prophecy has been fulfilled to the letter. For three days I was king of Jerusalem, and I return with three horses and three men. I should have heeded your words."

And he added, humbly, "You will assuredly achieve great fame in Israel."

And so it has come to pass. Should you, by chance, ever visit the city of Brussels, the capital of Belgium, do not fail to look upon the statue of Godfrey de Bouillon, with his sword proudly raised. It stands in the Place Royale but a few minutes' walk from the synagogue. Should you ever be in the ancient city of Worms on the Rhine, do as other visitors, Jews and Gentiles—enter the synagogue that was built many centuries ago, and you will see the room where Rashi studied and the stone seat on which he sat. And not far from the synagogue you will see the ancient gate of the city, named in honor of Rabbi Solomon ben Isaac, the Rashi Gate. Perhaps it is the very one under which Godfrey de Bouillon passed into the city with his three mounted companions, as the legend tells.