Entering the gateway we turned right, into a gloomy corridor lit by small lamps. Instead of merely requesting, I now literally pleaded with the guard that he should allow me to put on
tefillin, and added that it was difficult for me to walk so fast. He replied that if I continued to insist he would take me straight to the dungeon.
I continued to plead: "Just five minutes; three minutes!" -- and explained that I was an observant Jew who merely wanted to wear his tefillin for a few minutes.
In between puffs of his pipe he told me that he knew very well what tefillin were. He once lived in a small town near the local synagogue and knew what prayers were, too -- but he would still not grant me my request.
I therefore put on my hand-tefillin as I continued to walk behind him, but before I managed to put on my head-tefillin he turned around and struck me. In doing so he pushed me down the whole of the iron staircase to my left, but I broke neither hand nor foot, thank G-d.
Laboriously and painfully I managed to climb up a few steps. Evidently the metal component of the belt that I had been wearing for some years broke as I fell; it now tore at my skin. My heart froze with pain; I felt about to faint.
"Just wait and see what a delicious dish the chief of the sixth division is going to serve you!" shouted the guard. "Then you'll forget about your requests and your prayers! After you spend three or four nights lying among the mice in the dark muck and mire, then you'll understand that Spalerno is no place to turn into a Jewish house of prayer!"
Having arrived at a wide corridor, I still had to cope with three more staircases before reaching the third floor, where the chief of the sixth division would punish me for my transgression.
I was forced to sit down to rest on one of the steps. In addition to the pain, I felt that my abdomen was bleeding from the injury. Walking was extremely difficult.
Swallowing my pain, I held on to the iron balustrade and raised myself with difficulty from step to step. The guard had already reached the third flight, while I made my cumbersome way upstairs like a broken old man.
The chief of the sixth division stood up there on the landing, waiting to receive his important visitor. He had apparently received an order of some sort from Head Office; whether it was for lenience or lashing, his stony face did not disclose.
"Yarlik no. 26818!" announced my guard, and handed him the documents.
"Fine, fine," replied the chief. "Give us your merchandise. It's boring just sitting around here with arms folded."
He peered down at me as I was still at the foot of the third flight of stairs and called out: "Old man! What's delaying you down there? My time's precious!"
I climbed up to the landing, the tefillin in my hand.
"Go and get searched," commanded the chief loudly. And, as he walked away whistling, he gave an order to someone else: "Petia! Take the merchandise from the guard, bring him to my office, and get to work!"
The man or beast called Petia emerged from one of the cells or holes at the end of the landing and approached me, looked me up and down, and muttered to himself: "Just look what rags they've started to send here! No doubt about it -- a real parasite, a bearded Jew!"
Then he said to me: "Old man, go along and get searched. Don't you worry: here we'll clean you up good and proper! These guys'll dismantle your bones one by one!"
This creature Petia was one of those responsible for the storerooms which housed the belongings of the yarliks who were brought to this fortress. Though unarmed by any lethal trappings, he had the look of a destructive demon -- of middle height, but with a fiery face and the voice of a lion. He always looked sideways, because he could not look directly at people as others do. This was the man who now walked ahead to show me the way to the office of the chief of the sixth division.
"Why are you limping?" he asked. "Is the air of Spalerno affecting you?! The air here is fine, isn't it! Here people are given first-class perfumes to smell. For parasites like you we have perfumes that make them fall flat on their faces on their first day here, as if they had suddenly fallen ill. They lie about for two or three days until the doctor arrives. Sometimes he comes too late, and then all he has to do is to write down the cause of death."
I was wounded and walking with difficulty; I had to stop to rest after every step; I was losing blood; my heart was stressed with pain.
"Why are you so pale?" asked Petia. "Are you sick, too? After you've been searched you can die. It's quiet over here; no one will disturb you, and at home they won't know anything either. The doctor will write up a certificate for the office; the clerk will sign it; they'll make a note of it in the office journal; they'll cancel your file; and the body will be thrown into some hole in the ground down there."
I cannot say that his words made no impression on me. I thought to myself, "What lesson can be learned from them?"
We all know the Baal Shem Tov's teaching -- that every word or syllable, every sight or image, that a man hears or sees, is a directive in some area of his divine service. A man of even limited understanding can grasp that words like Petia's can very likely arouse feelings of penitence, of the awe of heaven, an awareness of Divine Providence, an experience of faith and trust. But there is also an Evil Inclination; there, too, Satan frolics; there, too, there is someone who prevents a man from being what he should be.
The pain was now so intense that I could not take one more step forward. I stood still.
"What's this act all about?" raged Petia. "Will we have to carry you on a stretcher to the official who does the search?! Enough of your pretensions, Jewface!"
"Petia!" the chief of the sixth division called out. "Where have you got lost? Where is yarlik 26818? Hurry up and get here! I'm sick and tired of waiting!"
"I'll be there in a minute," Petia reassured him. And to me he added: "Do you see? He's reached the end of his patience. Devilish dog-carcass!"
With G-d's help I made my way to the chief's office -- three yards square, with an iron door and no window, lit by a candle.
"Here you are," said Petia to the chief. "The rag is all yours. Does this, too, count as merchandise?! Anyway, in an hour's time he won't be alive."
Petia's eloquence made the chief smile with glee.
"It can't be helped, brother," he commiserated. "If there's no one else, then this will do. Our comrades can't be left unemployed!"
He turned to me: "Okay, so let's get on with our search. Tell me, what have you got in your pocket?"
Having searched and found nothing, he opened my bag. There he found the tefillin of Rabbeinu Tam and Shimusha Rabba, a gartl, and my books. These he took, but I held the tefillin of Rashi in my hand.
"Go back to where you belong," he ordered Petia. "When the search is over I'll call you."
As he checked through my belongings with his back to me I sat down on a broken chair, the only one in the room. I pleaded with him to allow me to say my prayers, but he answered with a furious No. Without losing an instant I quickly put on the hand-
tefillin then the head-
tefillin and recited
Kerias Shema. However, at the very moment that I began to say the first blessing of
Shemoneh-Esreh, he completed his work, turned around, and discovered me wearing my
tefillin.
His eyes opened wide in astonishment and horror. His face filled with angry blood and he turned into a wild beast.
"Jewface!" he shrieked, as he seized my head-tefillin with both hands. "I'll hurl you into the dungeon! Devil that you are, I'll smash your face!"
"Reign over us," I prayed, "You alone, O G-d, with kindness and compassion!" I had barely managed to complete this passage in Shemoneh-Esreh, when I was forced to remove my tefillin for fear that he would tear their straps.
"Petia!" he roared. And to me he said, "I feel sorry for you, old man. Even without my help you're going to die pretty soon. Your white face and black lips tell me that we won't have to deal with you for long. Tell me, what disease have you got?"
I gave no answer. It was clear that the main task of these officials was to intimidate their prisoners and alarm them. They played with their yarliks like a little boy plays with picture-cards.
Petia appeared at the door, scowled at the floor, and asked, "What's up?"
"What kind of a question is that?" said the chief. "Don't you know what you're supposed to do?"
"Do you mean to remove this junk?" asked Petia. "Has he been registered?"
"Not yet," replied the chief. "In a moment I'll register him in the big journal of the incoming prisoners, then I'll give him a number, and we'll attach a file. Everything will be done properly, just as the law requires."
"Why waste so much time on this filth?" said Petia. "Hand him over for the exit list, and that's that. Whatever happens he won't last; he'll be a gonner in a day or two."
The chief held otherwise: "No, brother, that will never do! We've got to stick to the law. We've got to fill out the file properly and give him the right number. If he's sick we'll write it down in the journal and send a report to the doctor. What's today -- Wednesday? If I manage to forward it today, then on about Saturday, or on Monday at the latest, he'll be examined. Or maybe even before that they'll free him of all his ailments...."
Petia grinned: "One little pill will do the trick!"
"That's a question for the big bosses," said the chief. "If I get an order to send the merchandise on its way, I'll do just that. Come on, Petia, you know the procedure. You're an old hand at the job!"
"Am I ever!" responded Petia with relish. "I love watching them suffer for two or three hours. Sometimes, mind you, when you're taking them out there, they walk as if they were dead. But the minute you begin to rip off their clothes and they just about die of fright, that's the best part. Blood's fun, too, but then you sometimes have to wait five or six hours till it's all over."
"Okay," said the chief to Petia, "I've finished and everything's ready. Take yarlik 26818 to Room 160, no. 4."
"Your name, old man," he now said to me, "is now 'no. 160, the fourth.'"
"Petia," he ordered, "take no. 160, the fourth, and sign here that you've received him. That's that."
He smiled proudly as he watched Petia signing: "Fine! Everything's just nice!"
"Now you're mine," Petia informed me. "Off you go to your rest.... Here, take your things!"
I reached out to take the tefillin which all lay on the table in confusion, and thanked G-d that the chief had not opened up the cubes containing the little scrolls. I began to take them in order, with a distant hope that he might perhaps allow me to take them with me to my cell.
When I entreated him to let me have them, and reminded him of what I had been promised, he laughed out aloud: "Old man, forget all that! Just get it clear that you are a prisoner and forget all your nonsense. I'm not going to give you more than I have given you already -- your clothes, your handkerchiefs, and that's all. If you want to ask for more, then you can address a request to the top officials. If I get an order from them, I'll do whatever I'm told to do."
"Here," I said, "you are my official; I don't need anyone higher than you. I'm asking you personally to be so kind as to give me the tefillin and the books. The clothes and the handkerchiefs and the food, I can do without."
A soft answer is so powerful that it can soften even a heart of stone. The chief changed in an instant from cruelty to humanity, and scratched his head.
"It's forbidden!" said Petia. "Get up and get out!"
"It's forbidden," echoed the chief. "Without permission I can't do it. If you want to, write a request. Here, take a sheet of paper."
Among the prison regulations that I had read on a bulletin board while waiting in this room, I had seen the following: Any prisoner who has money deposited in the office may write his requests or other information even by telegram, provided he writes that the expenses are to be deducted from his account.
Accordingly, I now told the chief that I wanted to write my demand in a telegram. Before there was any response, Petia spoke up. He argued that I could write the telegram in his room, for in a few minutes, he said, he had to go and wake up the sleepers who were stuck to their beds. With the chief's permission, however, I wrote out three identical telegrams: "I hereby request that the chief of the sixth division be ordered immediately to hand me my tefillin. Rabbi Y. Schneersohn, sixth division, room 160."
The telegrams were addressed to the Chief Prosecutor, the official in command of Spalerno, and the investigator Nachmanson.
When he had read them through, the chief commented: "He sure thinks big! Just look how he writes to the Chief Prosecutor, the official in command of Spalerno, and the investigator!" And he broke out in raucous laughter.
I knew that I had to demand a note from the chief confirming that he had received three telegrams and that I had to demand that he would send them as soon as possible.
"Finished?" asked Petia. "Now that you've calmed down, off we go."
"But where's the note confirming receipt of the telegrams?" I asked the chief.
"What note?" he retorted.
"The law," I stated calmly, "requires the official in charge to sign a note confirming that permission has been granted for the transmission of telegrams."
Subdued by my mention of the law, the chief wrote out a receipt as required and stamped it, did the same to each of the telegrams, and placed everything in the big envelope in which he evidently kept all the documents intended for Head Office.
With this I completed my stay in Tractate Gehinnom, Stage Three. As I proceeded I was accompanied by Petia, who vigorously cursed me and everyone else on the face of the earth and tried to terrorize me with the fear of death.
Instead of listening to him I marveled as to how the architect who planned Spalerno had taken into account whatever might be needed for its future prisoners -- i.e., facilities suited to every kind of torment, torture and cruelty.
The fortress was built as one edifice within another, one square surrounding wall of stone being enclosed by a larger one of a hundred yards square. The outer facade of the inner wall was studded on all four sides with the iron doors of cells. Facing them across a passage about six yards wide, the inner facade of the outer wall had windows eight yards high, extending over the height of three floors. From the passage below one could climb up an iron ladder to the continuous four-foot-wide balcony which projected on all sides from the outer facade of the inner wall, giving access to its cells. From that balcony one could climb up another iron ladder to the balcony which surrounded the top floor.
Along this balcony I now walked from the chief's office in the direction of Room 160. I did not yet know where it was because I was following Petia, who did his best to horrify me with stories of how he enjoyed gazing at the blood of rich men and clerics.
"One of them," he remarked, "looked pale and heavy-set, just like you."
[Wallowing in sadism, he went on to describe in gross detail how he liked to drink tea while waiting till they finally expired, how he disposed of their remains and cleaned up the cells, and how he and his comrades were rewarded for their labors by money and vodka.]
Though his narratives did not alarm me, they sent a violent shudder through my whole body.
"They should have stuck you in solitary confinement," he explained, "because you're on the execution list. Whoever's on that list always goes to a condemned cell. But it looks like they're all full up, and that's why they sent you to 160."
Finally, taking out one heavy key for the outer iron door and another for the inner door, he announced, "Here's your lock-up. Get in there and lie down on the floor." But before I managed to enter he seized hold of me angrily for no particular reason and pushed me in violently. Having thus added pain to my pain, he locked the door and left.
The cell was about six feet by twelve and six feet high; the stone walls were two feet thick; the door was of iron. Facing the courtyard there was one window in the wall near the ceiling, two feet high and one foot wide, with vertical iron bars crossed by a horizontal bar. The window's iron frame, held in place by iron pins, left a glass pane of about four inches square. When the window was tilted open it was secured to the inside wall by one chain on either side and another above. It was obscured from the outside by an iron partition which prevented prisoners from seeing what was going on outside and precluded any contact with prisoners on the opposite side of the courtyard.
Inside the cell an iron bed and a table three feet square were fixed to the wall. There was a tap; a vessel in the corner to serve as a W.C.; an electric globe; and a hot water pipe that passed through the cell to provide heating.
Such a cell was originally designed for solitary confinement, but as the number of prisoners increased, the authorities began to fit in two or three or even four people.
The door was about four inches thick, though I could not tell whether it was solid metal or surfaced with metal on both sides. It was six feet high and three feet wide, with an inch-wide peephole covered by an iron latch in the middle for the constant use of the prison guards. A couple of feet below it there was a tiny square window, with its own iron lock, through which the prisoners were given their provisions.
The prison regulations run as follows: (1) Officials are forbidden to converse with prisoners; (2) all cells are to be doubly locked; (3) prisoners must go to sleep and rise at the times prescribed; (4) prisoners must not sleep by day; (5) prisoners must not cover the peephole; (6) prisoners must not look through the window (which is utterly impossible in any case); (7) prisoners must not throw anything out of the window; (8) prisoners must not smoke at night; (9) prisoners must not light any candle in the cell; (10) prisoners must not converse at night; (11) prisoners must not ask for anything from bedtime at eleven until rising time at seven; (12) prisoners must not break any of the items in the cell (?!); (13) every prisoner must wash the floor of his own cell; (14) prisoners must obey orders given by the guards; (15) disobedience in this or in any of the above regulations will be punished at the discretion of the guard on duty by the withholding of food or hot water for one or two days, or by the submission of the guard's report to the divisional chief who will lock him in the dungeon for one or two days or even for a week.
The prison has its own daily routine:
- As soon as the yarliks hear a loud voice announcing that "It's time to get up" they have to get out of bed immediately, and pity help the prisoner whom a guard at the peephole catches lying in bed or on the floor at that moment.
- The second announcement is, "Get ready for bread!" One of the guards unlocks the little hatches in the doors, while the prisoners on the other side wait for the second lock on each hatch to be opened by a second guard, who is followed by a third guard who distributes the portions of bread.
- Every prisoner is given a kilo of dark bread; this lasts him for a whole day and there are usually leftovers. The opening of the hatch is a really happy moment for him: he can see a human face, no matter whose it is; he can see the outer wall opposite; and he can enjoy a breath of cool air that blows in from the balcony just for a moment, for the hatch is immediately closed by one lock.
- Some time later comes the next announcement: "Get ready for hot water!" On arrival, every prisoner is given a wooden spoon, a bowl, and a large aluminum jug. He now stands prepared to receive his sweet gift of hot water.
- The next announcement: "Get ready for lunch!" As the prisoners in multiple cells clean their utensils and wait, they exchange forecasts as to the expected menu.
- "Get ready for porridge!" As suppertime approaches, one prisoner tells another that he will take porridge but not eat it, another says he will take it and eat it, and another says he will not take any at all. When the hatch is opened, the waiter fills the bowls with dark porridge.
- "Get ready for hot water!" Twice a day every inmate is given a jugful and no more. Sometimes the guards choose to torture inmates by ordering them to hold the hot jug itself instead of its handle.
Moreover, the regulations prescribe that every prisoner must receive his own portion personally. Since I did not want to get up and receive my allocation of hot water (because I had been fasting from [my arrival on] Wednesday until the second distribution of water on Friday, 17 Sivan), I was left without water. Only later, as will duly be explained, was water brought especially for me.
- "Room such-and-such, get ready for the daily walk!" This welcome sound, eagerly awaited for twenty-four hours, heralds the fifteen-minute walk under heavy guard which the law requires.
First of all, this is an opportunity to get out of the cell, even briefly -- to breathe fresh air, to look at the sky, to walk a few hundred yards, to climb down the iron ladders. Furthermore, one hopes to see familiar faces among the varied thousands of respectable inmates -- medical specialists and engineers, lawyers and advocates, businessmen, priests of various faiths, old and young, craftsmen of all kinds, and so on and on. This daily exercise is thus an important component of prison life, and inmates calculate in advance how they can best utilize it. Occasionally they are even fortunate enough to be able, despite the vigilant supervision, to communicate somewhat by sign language.
Whether the sight of familiar faces sends a man back to his cell downcast, or whether it raises his spirits, the daily walk acts on the heart of every prisoner. It can take place during any of the twelve daytime hours, and every room's anticipation imagines each of its pleasurable minutes as lasting an entire hour.
It follows a whole ritual. After the preparatory announcement a special guard checks at every peephole to ensure that all inmates are ready. When the door is opened soon after, a different guard receives the sleepyheads, as they are called, together with a unit of armed guards who escort them outside.
The officer in command of this unit is a burly black giant dressed in red and black and bedecked with weaponry. He looks like a destructive demon whose mere glance can swallow a hundred prisoners alive. He roars like a lion and constantly grits his teeth, as if desperate to persecute the creatures before him, to squash one of those insects.
When the door opens, this officer looks around the room, stands outside the door, and announces: "Get outside for exercise!" The prisoners all follow each other stooping, like sheep. He closes the door, and (as he phrases it) "takes the fleas out to swarm over the face of the earth." There the prisoners delight in the pure air (?!) afforded by the courtyard of this house of death, the courtyard which is bounded on all sides by the buildings which constitute the fortress of Spalerno.
From what I was told (for not even once did I participate in this daily walk), the area in which it took place was about 60 yards long. In the middle stood a wooden platform higher than a man, from which a supervisor was able to check whether the prisoners were all obeying the positive and negative precepts relating to their daily outing.
The positive precepts are as follows: (a) Prisoners must walk only in a circle around the platform; (b) cellmates must all walk together as a group; (c) prisoners must walk, and neither stand nor sit.
And these are the negative precepts: (a) It is forbidden to run, only to walk slowly; (b) it is forbidden to talk, unless quietly; (c) it is forbidden to walk upright, so that one will not be able to see the faces of the other prisoners; (d) it is forbidden to look at any of the windows; (e) it is forbidden to pick up anything from the ground; (f) it is forbidden to throw anything on the ground; (g) it is forbidden to wink or exchange glances; (h) it is forbidden to make any gesture with hand or foot; (i) it is forbidden to speak to any of the escorting guards; (j) it is forbidden to give or receive a cigarette.
Suddenly a voice is heard: "The walk is over! Form ranks!" The inmates of each room stand shoulder to shoulder. "Quick march!" They are marched to their rooms in single file and handed over to the guards who open the doors. There, their heads drooping like wandering goats, they are returned to their enclosures.
"Lie down! It's time to sleep!"
This command at the end of the day casts terror on all sides, for if a guard at the peephole discovers that it has not yet been obeyed he is authorized to punish. This risk is severer at night, when a simple guard can administer a moderate penalty without having recourse to any superior official. The moderate penalty is usually a night spent in the noxious air of a dark and murky cellar in the company of worms and rats.
Here this is considered a mere hint that one should behave oneself, just as an adult might correct a small child by wagging a warning finger.
It is instructive to consider how a prisoner called S. describes his first day here. He speaks with plain objectivity: he is too simple-minded to lie or embellish or exaggerate or comment.
In his words: "I didn't know the prison regulations yet, so when I was told to sleep -- I was the only one in the cell at the time and didn't feel like sleeping -- I sat down and smoked a pipe. The guard looked in through this peephole over here and ordered me to lie down to sleep. He said it so angrily that I swore at him with a juicy three-letter Russian word. I did not even manage to finish my pipe when he stormed in and ordered me to follow him. I followed him downstairs, one ladder after another, until we reached the corridor leading to the cellar. He opened one of the doors and told me to walk in. I walked inside thinking that he was going to follow me, but then the door slammed behind me.
"After taking only one step I was already standing in mud. The air was suffocating. I struck a match and discovered that I was in a room five yards square, with long white and black worms crawling over the damp walls. I spent the night standing in this mire up to my ankles, trying to ward off the huge rats which sprang on me and terrified me with the sounds they made. I was sure that I'd already spent a whole day there. And food? In there you have no desire to eat. In there you don't even have any desire to smoke.
"After a long time I heard the door being opened. 'So they're taking me away to be shot!' I thought.
"Someone screamed: 'Come here!'
"'I can't see anything,' I said. 'Where shall I go?'
"The guard held up a lamp and I saw an iron bed, just like here -- but, man alive, what an awful place!
"'Get out of here!' he ordered. So I did, quickly.
"'Go upstairs!' he said.
"'Thank G-d,' I thought, 'at least I'm not going to be shot!'
"'Now, at least,' he said, 'you'll know how to speak to an official. You're not allowed to swear at officials. You are the prisoner here, and I'm the official in charge of you. Okay, now I'm going to take you to sleep. Will you go to sleep this time?'
"'Yes, your highness,' I said, 'I'll sleep; sure I'll sleep!'
"He suddenly slapped me twice across the cheek. I was so confused: I didn't know what I had done wrong.
"'What kind of a your highness am I to you?' he roared. 'You're a rotter, a slave to the white enemies of the red Bolshevik cause! You're a spy! I'll put you in the cellar for three days, not for three hours like now!'
"I wept and pleaded: 'Mr. Official, you are my precious father! My lord, I'll obey!'
"He slapped me three times more. It hurt a lot. My teeth chattered and my nose bled. Still, I did my best to stand as respectfully as one should when facing an official.
"You see, I still remember the old-time army discipline. For four years I served my czar like a man. I served in the war against Japan. I saw generals. I know that order is order and that discipline is no child's play. You're a faithful soldier until your very last breath -- not like today's youngsters who just sing and wag their tongues this way and that, all confused.
"'What kind of my lord am I to you?' he shouted. 'You must call me comrade. Nowadays there are no more lords; nowadays we are all comrades!'
"'Okay, comrade,' I said; 'I won't do it any more.'
"This time he punched me twice on the shoulder. 'What kind of comrade am I to you?' he shouted. 'That isn't how you address an official! It's time you realized that you're a prisoner, and I'm the official in charge of you. You've got to say my comrade, the official.'
"I walked on, all beaten up. I wanted to sleep, I wanted to smoke. My teeth hurt and my body was sore, but as I walked I repeated to myself over and over, my comrade, the official. I was afraid I'd forget those words and I knew exactly what would happen if I did. Wouldn't it be great, I thought, if I could now just lie down on the bed in my cell!"
And with this, prisoner S. concluded his description of his first day at Spalerno.
Though writing in general is prohibited, prisoners are given a pencil and paper for an hour or two every day so that they can write requests to the highest official, the interrogator, the advocate, or the doctor.
Every Wednesday each prisoner can send clothes home to be washed and can return utensils in which food was brought. To the compulsory list of items sent he is allowed to add a word or two about his health, and overleaf he is also allowed to list the food or clothes that he needs.
These are brought to the prisoners every Friday and handed to him at the storeroom of his division after he has revisited Head Office which he remembers from the day of his admission. No sweets or treats are allowed, and no item may be sealed or whole. Even bread is cut into small pieces in case a note is hidden inside, and the seams of all clothes are checked for the same reason.
When Friday arrives, all the prisoners who have relatives wait to be called to collect their packages from the chief of their division. Going to his storeroom and bringing back their packages is good for the morale. Even though the list of items brought remains in the divisional office, every prisoner is heartened by having caught a glimpse of the handwriting of his dear ones. Some families cleverly write the list on a piece of material which they sew on to the bag or sack, so that the sender's handwriting remains in the hands of the prisoner.
Returning to his cell with his bundle, the prisoner clears the worthiest place of honor for it -- his bed, of course, which he uses for almost 24 hours a day. There he sleeps at night, there he lies, there he sits, weeps, laughs, relaxes, and sleeps again even when he is not allowed to. There he now places his bundle lovingly and carefully, closely examining every stitch of the sack which contains it, and looking at it from all sides.
Slowly and deliberately he reads what is written on the piece of material which is sewn on to the sack. He takes careful note of every letter and searches for clues possibly hidden between the lines, perhaps by a missing or superfluous letter, or by differences in the sizes of the letters. As sole interrogator, he makes every letter undergo seven kinds of cross-examination. Why, he ponders, does this letter tzaddik end sharply while this otherwise identical letter does not? Why is this letter gimmel fatter than its brother? It cannot be that they were written by different hands, because he knows the handwriting. There must be a hint hidden here -- but what is its message?
From there he proceeds to examine the sack. Last week, he recalls clearly, they sent his things in a sack that had been used for honeycomb; this week's sack is of flour. Does this mean that his family has found out that he is to be accused, among other things, of trading in flour?
In this manner he masterminds a million investigations and endless cross-examinations concerning every item that was sent to him. For the next few hours silence reigns, for everyone is now sitting alone and mentally constructing edifices, marshaling all the accusations and libels that could possibly await him, and all the answers and explanations that he will have to provide -- in response, for example, to the interrogator's queries about his supposed dealings in flour, a commodity with which neither he nor his forebears have ever had any connection.
To resume the list of prison routines: Once in two weeks all prisoners are allowed to write a postcard to their families. Since everything is obviously censored they restrict themselves to a few words about their health.
Once in two weeks they are also allowed to receive a letter from home -- unless parts of it are held to be superfluous or otherwise displeasing to the censor.
Every two weeks any prisoner who has money in his account in Head Office can buy whatever he may desire (?) in Spalerno's cooperative store. He must first specify exactly what he wants to buy on account of this money, and this request is forwarded for approval to the investigator and chief clerk at Head Office. If they grant their permission, he will receive his goods within two weeks.
These requests may be made only on the printed forms which are distributed on the first and the fifteenth of every month and collected by a special guard later in the day. The decision as to the permit is made known two weeks later.
Every two weeks prisoners are given two or three books to read, though not books of their choice. Most of the material is communist literature.
Once every three weeks a prisoner may shave or take a haircut, provided he gives a week's written notice.
Every prisoner must bathe once a month, though he may do so every two weeks if he so desires.
There is a compulsory monthly visit to the medical clinic. In addition, a prisoner may ask for a doctor's visit if this is called for, by means of a request addressed to the chief of his division. He forwards it to Head Office, and when the permit is received, the patient is escorted to the doctor or the doctor is dispatched to the patient. Experience teaches that this procedure takes no less than three days.
Once a prisoner is familiar with all these regulations and routines, and with the work habits and individual style of the various officials, he may be reckoned a seasoned inmate.
Since the cells, as mentioned above, have no clocks, it is only the routine announcements that give a rough notion of the time. In summer prisoners are wakened between 6:30 and 7:00 a.m., bread is distributed at 7:30, hot water from 8:30 on, lunch from 1:00 p.m., porridge from 5:00, hot water again between 6:00 and 7:00, and lights go off at 10:30 p.m.
The
Midrash teaches: "From where did Moshe Rabbeinu know when it was day and when it was night? -- When he heard the ministering angels saying
Kadosh... -- 'Holy [...is the G-d of Hosts],' he knew that it was day, and when he heard them saying
Baruch... -- 'Blessed [be the glory of G-d...],' he knew that it was night."
Before leaving the little office of the chief of the sixth division I asked him for the time. He was generous enough to allow me to read from the watch on his left hand that it was five to six.
[The author's description of his imprisonment ends here.]
Time is both long and short; it depends only on us. Sometimes many hours can pass like a few moments, and sometimes a mere three hours can appear to stretch over an extremely long period.
At that time I recalled an episode that had taken place when I was a child of just twelve, in Elul 5652 (1892), when my aunt* married R. Moshe HaKohen Horenstein. The chuppah had taken place on erev Shabbos, 12 Elul, and at about nine o'clock after havdalah the bridegroom's parents and many other chassidim came to drink tea, as is customary on Motzaei Shabbos, in the company of my father, the Rebbe [Rashab].
The atmosphere of celebration warmed the hot tea into a cup of joy as all those present sat down to a festive melaveh malkah. By eleven my father's reception room and the adjoining entrance room, each of which was 35 by 30 feet, were filled with people and with palpable joy.
At 11:30 my father began to deliver the maamar beginning Kol HaNeheneh. His listeners who had come [to Lubavitch] for the wedding included chassidim who were deeply involved both in the understanding and in the avodah of Chassidus. The regular householders too were an authentically chassidic blend of intellection and action.
There is a classic question that is often debated among chassidim who sit down together at a
farbrengen: Is
Chassidus an intellectual exercise, or is it guidance for one's practical
avodah?
This question arose only in the last thirty years; before that such questions were never asked. Everyone knew that Chassidus is a remedy for the glimmer of the soul which is garbed in the body, that it revives the soul from its state of faint languor, arouses it from its slumbers, and cleanses and purifies the body of its uncleanliness.
Chassidim in the days of the Alter Rebbe belonged to either of two fundamentally different categories.
There were those whose knowledge of the Torah was broad and profound. Most of them (in the earlier period) were proficient in the actual texts of the entire Babylonian and Jerusalem Talmud, as well as in Sifra, Sifri, Rambam, all four parts of the Shulchan Aruch, and the classic works of the Kabbalah and of the medieval thinkers.
The other category comprised chassidim whose scholarship was moderate or less -- but in all their mitzvos and in all their conduct they sought to be motivated for the sake of heaven according to the appropriate kavanos which were known to their more scholarly colleagues. In so doing they aroused within themselves the attribute of truth and the pure nucleus of their soul.
The well-known reason for this division is that the Alter Rebbe was appointed by his master, the Maggid [of Mezritch], to be the guide and mentor of the Jewish communities throughout the provinces of White Russia and Lithuania.
The* most intense opposition to the teaching and inculcation of the Baal Shem Tov's path stemmed from Lithuania in general, and in particular from its capital, Vilna. It already appeared in 5515 (1755) or earlier, during the approximately six last years of the Baal Shem Tov's lifetime.
When the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov first became widespread under the influence of his erudite and G-d-fearing disciples, the offensive against them was heightened by the foremost Torah scholars from the sect of the misnagdim whose intentions were directed for the sake of heaven.
The fears of the misnagdim sprang from a variety of causes: the new-fledged philosophy of Spinoza; the circulation of miracles by exponents of practical Kabbalah; the detestable deeds of Shabbetai Zvi; and the Frankist sect. In addition, the leading Torah scholars of Lithuania were remotely isolated from the life around them, and hence believed those who spread lies about the Baal Shem Tov and his disciples. All these causes together sowed seeds of destruction within the House of Israel.
The legacy of the Baal Shem Tov and his passing united his disciples and fortified their spirits -- to link arms and proceed together in the orderly guidance of their fellow Jews according to the teachings of their holy mentor.
The Maggid [of Mezritch] was appointed as his successor. His profound and encyclopedic scholarship and his innovative teachings in the revealed realm of the Torah; his novel insights, extensive for that era, in the course of revealing the mystical secrets of the Torah; his intense and prolonged devotion in prayer; -- all these ignited the hearts of his colleagues, the disciples of the Baal Shem Tov. New saplings began to sprout in the vineyard of Israel.
As the newly-added disciples of those five or six years began to flourish, they yielded fruit whose sweet fragrance could already be savored by the Jewish communities of all those provinces.
There is another major school of thought in divine service. Man's main goal is not Torah study exclusively, but Torah study when joined with deeds and with the service of the heart through prayer -- for whoever says "I have nothing but Torah study alone," does not have even true Torah study.
Torah study is true when the learner knows that it is the wisdom and will of G-d, Whose supernal wisdom decreed that if Reuven should claim thus and Shimon thus, then such and such should be the verdict of the Halachah. The true student of the Torah cleaves to the sanctity of the Halachah and to the sanctity of the Torah's letters. When with his mind he encompasses the Word of G-d which he is presently studying, his mind is in turn encompassed by it, and in this way he becomes one with the infinite Ein Sof-light which is imbued in the Torah.
If a man with his physical brain is to approach the innermost reaches of sanctity, this may be achieved by "the service of the heart, which is prayer." And this in turn springs from an awareness of G-d's sublime exaltedness, and from meditating and "gazing upon the glory of the King."
In every aspect and event and circumstance in the multifaceted life of man and of all other creatures, the Baal Shem Tov finds G-d. For there is nothing in all the levels of creation (inanimate, vegetative, animal or human) and in all the Four Elements (Fire, Air, Water, Earth) that does not point at the omnipresence of Divinity.
The Baal Shem Tov's school of thought is basically one teaching with two aspects: (a) Divinity is everything; (b) Everything is Divinity.
On this foundation are based all the teachings and expositions with which Chassidus explains Torah and mitzvos as they relate to the entire life of man on earth.
Mortal man who lives on the earth which was created and formed by the Master of All is formed in the image of the Supernal Man of Whom it is written, "the likeness of the appearance of a man upon it, above." It is because of this resemblance that this created being is called adam, as in the phrase, adameh l'elyon -- "I resemble the Most High."
Accordingly, in all his divine service mortal man can unite and bond with the infinite Ein Sof-light. What links them is the Torah and its mitzvos, as it is written, zos haTorah: adam -- "This is the Torah: man...." For the Torah [parallel to man] includes 248 positive commandments and 365 prohibitive commandments.
And "this is the whole [destiny] of man" -- that all his days should constitute a long chain of avodah and positive activity; that he should distance himself from that which is material and draw close to that which is spiritual by exerting himself in strenuous avodah; that in every entity he encounters he should spurn Matter and choose Form.
In those days it was already widely known that the disciples of the Maggid were gifted and studious men of stature who served their Maker with "the service of the heart"; they were men of refined character who chose paths of humble solitude.
At sixteen the Alter Rebbe was a towering sage who was also adept in the works of the Kabbalah and of the classical medieval thinkers. My greatgrandfather the Tzemach Tzedek said of him* (this I heard from my saintly grandmother, Rebbitzin Rivkah): "If my grandfather had lived in the time of the tannaim he would have been a great tanna; if he had lived in the time of the prophets he would have been a great prophet.** My grandfather was a tanna and a prophet, but because the generation was unworthy this was hidden except for those who were worthy."
The*** Alter Rebbe once told his son, the Mitteler Rebbe: "The teaching of the Sages -- 'Whoever says
I have nothing but Torah study does not have even Torah' -- caused me to take the path to Mezritch.
"I deeply yearned to enter the understanding of the Torah. Whatever I knew and understood appeared to me as nothing compared to my intense desire to know it. When I was thirteen I began to learn alone for most of my eighteen daily hours of study. For three years, on weekdays I studied Gemara and the early poskim for two-thirds of the time and spent a third of the time on Scripture, Aggadah, Zohar, Midrash, Kabbalah and chakirah; on Shabbos I spent a third of the time on Gemara and the poskim, a third on Scripture, Aggadah and chakirah, and a third on Midrash, Zohar and Kabbalah.
"One day I found myself vexed: Could I possibly remain without a mentor? What could this lead to? I decided that it was time to proceed to a place where Torah was taught, to a place where there was a mentor. I considered where I should go, for I had heard that there were two luminaries in the world.
"One was in Mezritch -- the disciple of the Baal Shem Tov; the other luminary was in Vilna -- a company of great Torah scholars. In Vilna they teach you how to study; in Mezritch they teach you how to pray.
"My intense desire to know the Torah impelled me to set out for Vilna, and for a few days I took that road. But as I walked I thought: I do know something about how to study, but I do not know how to serve G-d in prayer. Let me therefore first go to Mezritch to see what path they follow, and from there I will continue to Vilna."
Within ten years the Alter Rebbe was one of the pillars upholding the House of Israel: by the year 5534 (1774) he was one of the leading figures in the steering committee of the chassidic movement (though there was no such title at the time).
At the meeting of the Maggid's disciples in 5536 (1776), the Alter Rebbe's voice dominated in the allocation of countries and provinces in which they were to settle in order to disseminate the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov as expounded by their Rebbe, the Maggid.
The venerable lion of that august assemblage of disciples, R. Menachem Mendel of Horodok, demanded of the Alter Rebbe that he fulfill the Maggid's instruction -- to undertake the task of disseminating the Baal Shem Tov's teachings and directives.
One of the decisions of that gathering was that the disciples, despite their accustomed humility, should henceforth not hide their Torah scholarship. Instead, whenever they addressed [nonchassidic] congregations from the pulpit, they were first to publicly debate and clarify legal issues on the revealed plane of the Torah, and after every such pilpul or halachic lecture they were then to proceed to explain its meaning in terms of man's divine service of self-refinement.
When the Alter Rebbe returned to his home in Liozna he began to choose a number of young men of exceptional intellectual power and broad scholarship who had been drawn to him in the course of his journey, and taught them the paths of Chassidus. Further scholars of this caliber attached themselves to him in the course of the two journeys that he made to other towns that year, during which he lectured publicly and responded to all the queries with which his erudite listeners challenged him.
These scholars, the booty of his journeys, became the precious stones out of which the Alter Rebbe founded a study hall for the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov. With G-d's help, within eighteen years there was a flourishing group of people called chassidim; his banner was followed by some ten thousand men.
At about that time the Tanya was published, and it brought tens of thousands of hearts close to our heavenly Father. From this point the prevailing opposition to Chassidism was no longer motivated leshem Shamayim, for the sake of heaven, but by envy. The unholy Calf that it spawned was the notorious libel; this was distressing even to the prominent scholars among the misnagdim.
Throughout the next 13 years the teachings of Chassidus became more widespread; the masses, too, now basked in its radiance. Though in the area of book learning their needs were limited, in the area of avodah and self-refinement they demanded a great deal of themselves. At the same time their more learned brethren were nourished by the wellsprings of wisdom -- the maamarim and derushim of [the Alter Rebbe's] Torah Or, Likkutei Torah, the Siddur, and Biurei HaZohar.
At that time the war with France threatened to topple the [Russian] eagle from its nest. On erev Shabbos mevarchim Elul, 5572 (1812), the Alter Rebbe left Liadi together with his family and some of his chassidim, sixty wagons in all, and went into exile with the protective escort of a Russian military unit.
The Alter Rebbe opposed Napoleon. He perceived him as denying G-d, boasting that it was the strength of his own hand that secured him all his victories. For this reason he did not want to be under Napoleon's jurisdiction even for a moment.
In the summer of 5574 (1814), the Mitteler Rebbe arrived at Lubavitch with his entire family, including my greatgrandfather the Tzemach Tzedek and all those who had set out with them or who had joined them during their stay in Kremenchug and its environs.
Rosh HaShanah 5575 (1814) was thus the first Rosh HaShanah which a member of the family of the Rebbeim observed in Lubavitch, the capital city of Chabad Chassidus.
For about 12 years Chassidus flared and flourished in the days of the Mitteler Rebbe. Most of his chassidim devoted themselves wholeheartedly to the study of Chassidus and to "the service of the heart," praying at measured and meditative length day after day.
In the 50 years during which the two great luminaries, the Alter Rebbe and his son the Mitteler Rebbe, blazed the trail for the dissemination of the teachings and spiritual directives of Chabad Chassidus, the Fifty Gates of Understanding were flung open.
During that period the teachings of Chassidus became the rightful possession of "the people of the G-d of Avraham." A rich and profound understanding of Chassidus now enabled many tens of thousands to gaze upon the glory of the Supernal King. It enabled many tens of thousands to speak articulately about the pristine purity of the incorporeal worlds that exist on high within the space of the Infinite One.
In the days of my greatgrandfather, the
Tzemach Tzedek, the teachings of
Chassidus crystallized in an orderly manner. By that time all its emendations and regulations -- such as in the wording of the prayers and in the meticulous honing of
shechitah-knives -- had been widely accepted and the rulings of the Alter Rebbe's
Shulchan Aruch came to be regarded as authoritative.
The chassidic world was infused with a spirit of life by the founding of the great yeshivah in 5591 (1831)* and by the widespread appointment of its graduates as rabbis, judges in rabbinical courts, teachers, and functionaries in synagogues and communal houses of study. The incoming letters from the Torah giants of all countries which addressed halachic queries to the Tzemach Tzedek, and his learned responsa, intensified the loving devotion of the yeshivah students, and especially of the advanced longterm students, to Talmudic and halachic study.
So many hundreds of advanced scholars found their way to the metropolis of Lubavitch year after year that eventually word spread even among the misnagdim that the chassidim were masters of the revealed plane of the Torah. Thus, for example, when the Tzemach Tzedek visited Petersburg for the Rabbinical Commission in 5603 (1843), the Torah leaders of the sect of the misnagdim whom he met there spoke in glowing terms of the impressive scholarship of many chassidim whom they had encountered in their hometowns.
The Tzemach Tzedek's public activities and vigorous spirit in defense of anything that affected the spiritual life of the Jewish people, and likewise his concern for their economic welfare, generated positive attitudes between misnagdim and chassidim. This in turn profoundly affected all the chassidic communities which flourished and expanded throughout the country.
By this time Chassidus was already a clearly-defined school of thought. In scores and hundreds of townships throughout the length and breadth of the land, chassidim found themselves belonging to a widely-recognized movement that now played a leading role in communal life.
This third generation in the history of Chabad chassidim and Chassidus is exceedingly rich both in body and in spirit. In addition to its harvest of spiritual fields that had been sown and planted in earlier generations by the world's patriarchs, the Alter Rebbe and the Mitteler Rebbe, the current endeavors of the Tzemach Tzedek also began to yield their own rich produce. It is interesting that the agricultural colonies which the Mitteler Rebbe had founded in his early years as Rebbe, in 5573-74 (1813-14), and also during his later journey to the steppes in the provinces of Kherson and Yekaterinoslav, developed and prospered during the time of the Tzemach Tzedek.
In 5600-01 (1840-41) the Tzemach Tzedek publicly encouraged his chassidim to seek employment as farmers and craftsmen. He bought* a tract of land in the Minsk province where he built the agricultural village of Tchedrin, and helped support budding craftsmen.
In those days taleisim used to be imported from afar, from Volhynia or Galicia. The Tzemach Tzedek therefore convinced prospering lambswool merchants from the Kherson colonies to bring their goods to this area as well, and located a new tallis-weaving factory in Dubrovna, the home of his relative and study partner, the saintly R. Nehemiah HaLevi.
The establishment of facilities of this kind encouraged many chassidim to seek employment further afield. Many settled in villages, or in the estates that sprang up around wayside inns which some of their wealthier brethren bought and developed into self-contained little rural communities blessed with shuls, mikvaos, and teachers for the local children.
The period of the Tzemach Tzedek thus added not only a rich spiritual chapter to the chronicles of Chassidus and chassidim, but also set up a guidepost for their economic life. In this work he was aided by the elder chassidim who had earlier been disciples of the Alter Rebbe and the Mitteler Rebbe and who now devoted themselves earnestly to the fulfillment of every directive uttered by his holy mouth.
At* the time of the passing of his maternal grandfather, the Alter Rebbe, the
Tzemach Tzedek was 23 years old. At the age of three he had been taken to his home, because before he lost his mother [Devorah Leah] the Alter Rebbe had promised her that he would bring him up. At that time he told her: "Your son is called Menachem [lit., 'consoler']. He will be a consolation for me, a consolation for you, a consolation for all of Israel."
An eye-witness account of an episode from that period has been handed down to us from the celebrated R. Aizik of Homil, in these words [till the end of Section 26]:
In my youth I was one of the younger chassidim of the Alter Rebbe. One day he delivered a maamar beginning with the words, Al Sheloshah Devarim HaOlam Omed, but because it was so profound we were unable to recall it fully. Thanks to the intervention of a few elder chassidim a promise was secured that after the morning prayers on Sunday about ten chassidim would be allowed to enter the Alter Rebbe's study in order to reconstruct it from memory [with his assistance where necessary]. We young married students did not even hope to be counted among those who would be fortunate enough to be admitted to the Higher Gan Eden.
(These were the terms used by the longterm scholars at Liozna in those early years, 5538-5559 (1778-1799). Their study hall was known as the heichal; the room in which waiting chassidim prepared themselves to be admitted to yechidus was known as the Lower Gan Eden; and the Alter Rebbe's study was known as the Higher Gan Eden.)
[R. Aizik resumes his account:] The Tzemach Tzedek, a little boy at that time, spent all day in the study of the Alter Rebbe, who taught him to recite the daily blessings. He spoke clearly, knew the Morning Blessings and Kerias Shema and the blessings over food by heart, read cursive and printed texts with the speed of a six-year-old, and was familiar with many narratives appearing in the Chumash and the Early and Later Prophets.
We all knew how fond the Alter Rebbe was of this grandchild. His mother had been a woman of profound understanding and awe of G-d whose chassidic devotion to the Alter Rebbe equalled that of the loftiest chassidim. She was held in particularly high esteem because we all knew that the Alter Rebbe lived on from the year 5553 (1792) thanks to her actual self-sacrifice on his behalf. Thanks to her, we new chassidim and our children and grandchildren were able to enjoy his ongoing radiance.
At that time Israel's luminaries were dimmed by a number of circumstances: dissension, especially over issues involving the Holy Land; the correspondence between the chassidic masters there and the Alter Rebbe; and the scandalmongering that sought to cleave a rift between the Rebbeim of Volhynia and the Alter Rebbe. Satan's work was thriving. Indeed, the Alter Rebbe thought that his time had come, time for his sun to set.
One day the Alter Rebbe described this situation to his saintly daughter. He sensed that this was a weighty time; the voices of the Accusing Angels were insistent; he was deeply anxious over the state of the chassidic community and the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov.
She understood that the situation was awesome and that her father's life was in the balance. What she had heard threw her thoughts into turmoil for a number of days. Finally, she decided that she had an obligation to share her thoughts with a few select individuals and to consult with them, and resolved in her heart to surrender her life for his.
She therefore called for three distinguished elder chassidim -- R. Moshe Maizlish, R. Pinchas Reizes and R. Moshe Vilenker -- and demanded that they heed whatever she would direct them to do. Moreover, she demanded that they solemnly obligate themselves by a legally binding oath to maintain utter secrecy until the episode could be divulged.
Notwithstanding their accustomed composure of head and heart, these mighty lions were deeply agitated, and told her that they needed a day to decide together whether they could accept her conditions. At that period the Alter Rebbe had been closeted in his study more than usual; even the closest chassidim were not granted admittance. From this departure from custom they gathered that this was a time of grievous crisis; its nature and remedy remained a mystery.
The three elder chassidim met several times during the day and decided to consult through the night as to whether they could accept her conditions. Ultimately they concluded that they were obliged to do so because she was clearly more familiar with the situation than they were.
At the appointed hour she received them cordially and said: "We are all chassidim of our father, the Rebbe, and we are all obliged to literally sacrifice our lives -- for his sake and for the sake of his teachings, which are the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov."
Her words were drowned by gushing tears.
Standing up in alarm, R. Moshe Maizlish declared with passion: "Why are you crying? Tell us what is going on! I will be the first to go to my death -- in fire or in water for the sake of our Rebbe, for the sake of the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov! Tell us what to do! I shall go happily, with a joy and gladness of heart greater than that caused by an abundance of all good things -- just as our Rebbe has taught us!"
"First of all," responded Devorah Leah, "I demand that you swear by an irreversible oath that you will fulfill what I am about to tell you. The oath will apply to what I alone have in mind, for you do not know what I am about to say. Moreover, the stern Scriptural sanction that upholds your oath will apply even to matters involving human life."
With words like these, the emotions of even the temperate and cerebral R. Moshe Vilenker were excited. He would be afraid to proceed with such a proposal, he said, unless it had been weighed deliberately.
His two colleagues objected: "Have we not already decided to accede to all conditions? Why deliberate further?"
All three thereupon undertook an oath as prescribed in the Torah, and Rebbitzin Devorah Leah spoke up: "I hereby appoint you to act as a rabbinical court. You will undertake to do so and to pronounce a binding verdict as laid down by the laws of the Torah.
"The present state of affairs, in which unprincipled slanderers have incited crises between the Rebbeim of the Holy Land and of Volhynia and our father the Rebbe, is grievous indeed. From the words I have heard from my father it is clear that the consequences may be (G-d forbid) grave.
"My father told me: 'A good tree needs thirty years of hoeing and weeding until it yields its best fruit. The teachings of the Baal Shem Tov and of the Maggid of Mezritch, ever since they sprouted into a sapling, have grown into a Tree of Life. Now, however, this tree can be utterly uprooted by a harsh edict promulgated in the Heavenly Court by the malevolent Accuser. I want to live, for this is what the Torah obliges us to do. But even more than life I want to cultivate this tree, so that it will continue to yield its fruit until Mashiach comes. My mentor the Maggid warned me that dire times awaited me, and promised me that I would always be granted help. I saw my mentor and his mentor, but the gloom on their faces signifies that their teachings are in jeopardy. It also signifies that....'"
"Her sentence was interrupted by a torrent of tears," R. Moshe Vilenker later related. "We all wept in alarm, not knowing what to think."
"I have therefore resolved," the young Rebbitzin Devorah Leah continued, "to give my life in exchange for my father's. I want to serve as an atonement for him. I hereby give away the days of my lifetime to my father. I am going to die -- and my father will continue on to a good and long life, so that he can preserve and tend the tree that he planted. And in this way I, too, will have a share in the merit of his teachings."
A [few weeks] earlier the Alter Rebbe had sent a pidyon to R. Nachum of Chernobyl with a request that he intercede in heaven on his behalf. Whatever elapsed elapsed -- and his daughter passed away. Before she surrendered her life she asked the Alter Rebbe to personally bring up and educate her son, and from the age of three he was always in his study, Gan Eden HaElyon.
To this day chassidim mention her name in reverent awe, just as it was mentioned at the time by the three venerable chassidim who were involved in this episode, for everyone is aware that it was her self-sacrifice and noble spirit that saved the Tree of Life.
Little Reb Mendele passed his time playing with trifles, as toddlers do. While the Alter Rebbe was at his prayers he used shoelaces to tie toy
tefillin made of potatoes on his arm and head. When the Alter Rebbe removed his own
tefillin, his grandson would remove his too, and playfully drag them around the floor by their shoelaces as little boys might do.
On that day, while we chassidim were waiting in the Gan Eden HaTachton for the above-mentioned maamar (Al Sheloshah Devarim) to be soon reviewed from memory by a number of elder chassidim in the presence of the Alter Rebbe, we saw through a crack that one of the shoelaces of the potato-tefillin had got caught up aroung the leg of the table. The Alter Rebbe bent down and straightened it out, and little Reb Mendele ran and pranced around the room in delight.
When the Alter Rebbe had taken off his tefillin of Rabbeinu Tam, he opened the door and [the elder] chassidim entered his study. I remained standing in my place: I was afraid to walk inside.
At that moment, however, the Alter Rebbe asked: "Who is left outside?"
"A young man," one of the chassidim answered.
"So let him come in, too," said the Alter Rebbe. "After all, a young chassid can grow into an elder chassid."
I was so overwhelmed that for the first few moments I saw nothing and heard nothing -- except that those words of the Alter Rebbe shone before my eyes and filled my mind and heart. A little time passed before I fully regained my senses, stepped inside, and found a place in the back row.
At that moment I felt that the little boy was edging his way between us, perhaps in search of one of his toys. Anxious that he might disturb the proceedings, I looked down and saw that he was clutching his little potatoes and pressing his way forward so that he could hear. Is it possible, I thought, that he actually wants to listen?!
And I heard the voice of the Alter Rebbe: "He's listening, he's listening! You will yet know that he is listening!"
I was stunned. As soon as I calmed down, while I was still inside, I was vigilant about each thought I had, for I had patently seen that the Alter Rebbe saw every individual's thoughts.
When we later left his study and returned to the beis midrash to jointly review the updated version of the maamar, the chassidim who had been present debated and queried each other: Whom did the Alter Rebbe have in mind and whom was he addressing when he said, "He's listening, he's listening! You will yet know that he is listening!" The solution remained an utter secret for over 45 years.*
[R. Aizik of Homil's eye-witness account of this episode, beginning in Section 23 above, ends here.]
[The Rebbe Rayatz concludes:] When my greatgrandfather, the Tzemach Tzedek, was eight years old, he was already studying Gemara and the legal works of the poskim at intensive depth. His grandfather the Alter Rebbe once praised his talents and scholastic attainments to his son, the future Mitteler Rebbe, and suggested that he take him as a bridegroom for his daughter, Rebbitzin Chayah Mushka.
According to an oral tradition handed down in the family, that was a remarkable conversation. The Mitteler Rebbe said that he was a man of distinguished lineage, because he had a father who was a Rebbe. The Alter Rebbe responded that he had more to be proud of, because he had a son who was a Rebbe. Moreover, he argued, it is written: "My Spirit which is upon you and My words which I have put in your mouth shall not depart from your mouth, nor from the mouth of your children, nor from the mouth of your children's children..., to eternity." The Alter Rebbe concluded: "So take him as a bridegroom for your daughter!"
And that is exactly what happened.
Part III: This Part was first published by the Rebbe in 5714 (1954), in anticipation of
Yud-Beis-Yud-Gimmel Tammuz, the anniversary of the liberation of the Rebbe Rayatz in 1927. On this occasion the Rebbe opened his Publisher's Foreword by proposing that in the course of those two days chassidim study the
hemshech beginning with the words,
R. Chanina ben Dosa Omer. (This series of
maamarim, first delivered by the Rebbe Rayatz, appears in the issue of
HaKeriah VehaKedushah dated Tammuz, 5704 [1944], and in subsequent issues, as well as in
Sefer HaMaamarim -- Yiddish, p. 165ff.) The continuation of the Rebbe's Publisher's Foreword to Part III of
Reshimas HaMaasar: The Imprisonment of 1927 is similar to that which introduced Part I above and which is likewise dated
Gimmel Tammuz.
From where did Moshe Rabbeinu know: Cf. Midrash Tehillim 19:7.
Holy... [is the G-d of Hosts]: Isa. 6:3; cf. Siddur, p. 44.
Blessed [be the glory of G-d...]: Ezek. 3:12; cf. Siddur, p. 44.
* See Sefer HaToldos: The Rebbe Maharash [compiled by the Rebbe], p. 22.
My aunt: Chayah Mushka, sister of the Rebbe Rashab, was the younger daughter of the Rebbe Maharash. He had passed away when she was a child almost ten years earlier.
The bridegroom's parents: In the original, "the mechutanim."
* On the forthcoming passage see also the series of essays entitled Avos HaChassidus ("Fathers of the Chassidic Movement") in HaTamim, Vol. IIff. [In English: Links in the Chassidic Legacy: Biographical Sketches that First Appeared in the Classic Columns of HaTamim, trans. Shimon Neubort; Sichos In English, N.Y., 1997.]
The classic works... of the medieval thinkers: In the original, sifrei mechkar (or chakirah).
Main goal... Torah study... with deeds: Cf. Tractate Avos 1:17.
Service of the heart through prayer: Cf. Tractate Taanis 2a.
I have nothing but Torah study: Cf. Tractate Yevamos 109b.
Wisdom and will... Reuven... Shimon...: Cf. Tanya, ch. 5.
He encompasses... in turn encompassed: Cf. ibid.
Gazing upon the glory of the King: Cf. Tanya -- Iggeres HaKodesh, Epistle 24.
Divinity is everything: In the original Yid., Der Eibershter iz altz.
Everything is Divinity: In the original Yid., Altz iz der Eibershter.
The likeness of the appearance: From Yechezkel's Vision of the Divine Chariot, Ezek. 1:26.
I resemble the Most High: Isa. 14:14.
This is the Torah: man: Num. 19:14, interpreted on the non-literal level of derush.
248 positive commandments: In the original, 248 mitzvos aseh, corresponding to man's 248 organs.
365 prohibitive commandments: In the original, 365 mitzvos lo taaseh, corresponding to man's 365 sinews.
This is the whole [destiny] of man: Eccles. 12:13.
Matter: In the original, Chomer.
Form: In the original, Tzurah.
* For a variant version of this oral tradition see Sefer HaSichos: Toras Shalom, p.170.
** R. Yehudah HeChassid [medieval pietist, author of Sefer Chassidim] was spoken of in similar terms; see Sefer Maasiyos.
*** On the forthcoming passage see Rabbeinu HaZakein, by R. Avraham Chanoch Glitzenstein.
My saintly grandmother, Rebbitzin Rivkah: Wife of the Rebbe Maharash, mother of the Rebbe Rashab.
First go to Mezritch: The Alter Rebbe first went to study at the feet of the Maggid in the year 5524 (1764), when he was 19 years old.
The meeting of the Maggid's disciples in... 1776: The occasion was the impending departure of R. Menachem Mendel of Horodok (also known as R. Menachem Mendel of Vitebsk) for the Holy Land. The Maggid had passed away in 1772.
A study hall: In the original, cheder horaah.
Tanya was published: On 20 Kislev, 5557 (1796).The notorious libel: As a direct result of false accusations of treason which his opponents, the misnagdim, made to Czar Paul IV, the Alter Rebbe was placed under arrest and capital sentence in 1798. (See: The Arrest and Liberation of Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi (Kehot, N.Y., 1964), a translation by R. Jacob Immanuel Schochet of the Heb. original by R. Avraham Chanoch Glitzenstein; R. Nissan Mindel, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (Kehot, N.Y., 1971), ch. 10.) To this day the anniversary of his release is celebrated every year on Yud-Tes and Chaf Kislev.
In the summer of 5574: I.e., after the passing of the Alter Rebbe (at the end of 1812).
* In the original manuscript of the Rebbe Rayatz the last letter [i.e., digit] of this date is unclear.
In the 50 years... the Alter Rebbe and... the Mitteler Rebbe: I.e., counting from after the above-mentioned meeting of the Maggid's disciples in 1776 until the passing of the Mitteler Rebbe in 1827.
The people of the G-d of Avraham: Ps. 47:10.
The advanced longterm students: In the original Yid., di sitzer (lit., "the sitters").
Talmudic and halachic study: In the original, nigleh.
The revealed plane of the Torah: In the original, Torah hanigleis (i.e., nigleh).
* See The Tzemach Tzedek and the Haskalah Movement [by the Rebbe Rayatz, trans. Rabbi Zalman I. Posner].
This area: I.e., the region of Lubavitch, in White Russia.
* See Sefer HaSichos, Kayitz 5700 [1940], pp. 39, 64ff.; cf. HaTamim, Vol. III, p. 22ff. for a variant version.
23 years old: The Tzemach Tzedek was born in 1789; the histalkus of the Alter Rebbe was in 1812.
He lost his mother [Devorah Leah]: For more details of the episode to be described below, see also above, Vol. I, Chapter 2b, Sections 11 and 14.
Study hall: In the original, beis midrash.
Heichal: Lit., "sanctuary."The Lower Gan Eden: In the original, Gan Eden HaTachton.
The Higher Gan Eden: In the original, Gan Eden HaElyon.
The voices of the Accusing Angels: In the original, "the kitrug."
A legally binding oath: In the original, shevuas uman; cf. Tractate Shevuos 46a.
A joy... greater than that caused by... all good things: For the Rebbe's interpretation of the Alter Rebbe's allusion (in Tanya, Chapter 26) to this teaching of the AriZal on Deut. 28:47, see Lessons In Tanya, Vol. I, pp. 345-6.
Until Mashiach comes: In the original, "until Shiloh comes"; see Rashi and Targum Onkelos on Gen. 49:10; cf. Tractate Sanhedrin 98b and Bereishis Rabbah 99:8.
My mentor and his mentor: I.e., the Maggid of Mezritch and the Baal Shem Tov.
His daughter passed away: On the Fast of Gedaliah, the day after Rosh HaShanah of the year 5552 (1791).
The above-mentioned maamar... to be soon reviewed: See Section 23 above.
* [See Sefer HaSichos -- Kayitz 5700 (1940), p. 103; reprinted in Sefer HaToldos -- Rabbeinu HaTzemach Tzedek, ed. R. Avraham Chanoch Glitzenstein, p. 75ff.]
Bridegroom for his daughter: Since the Mitteler Rebbe was Devorah Leah's brother, he was the uncle of his future son-in-law, the Tzemach Tzedek.
My Spirit... to eternity: Isa. 59:21.
The Imprisonment of 1927 Part II