Rosh Hashanah Under Siege: The Jews of Prague’s Remarkable Story

In the year 5500 (1740), Charles VI, ruler of the Holy Roman Empire, which included Austria, Bohemia, Hungary, and other territories, died. In accordance with his wishes and a special legal provision he had introduced, his only daughter, 23-year-old Maria Theresa, inherited his Habsburg lands. Her succession was challenged almost immediately. Frederick the Great, king of Prussia, went to war against her, and Bavaria and France soon joined the conflict. Thus began the War of the Austrian Succession.

A contemporary Jewish writer from Prague’s distinguished Brandeis family described the succession this way:

“The pious emperor mentioned above saw that he had no male offspring, and so that the kingdom and inherited lands should not pass into the hands of strangers, he prepared his eldest daughter in wisdom, beauty, and deeds, Maria Theresa, and they bore, upheld, and accepted her as heir in all the lands of his kingdom, with the agreement of many kings and ministers and with honor, and indeed she was anointed as archduchess in the city of Vienna and in all the lands of Austria, and the people of Hungary nearby crowned her, and there was joy and gladness in that city and in all the lands of her kingdom” (R. Betzalel Brandeis, Iggeret Machalat).

Many Jews attended her coronation ceremony. R. Abraham Trebitsch of Nikolsburg describes the magnificent event in his book Korot Ha’itim:

“The 11th of Tammuz, which is June 25, 1741, in the city of Pressburg they prepared a royal crown to establish... and they crowned her at the head of columns of gold made for her, and not for him [her husband was not given royal honors], rather he would be a helpmate opposite her, while she wore royalty and the garment of the land’s custom, and the coronation was with kinds of song and dances, and all the people saw and heard the sounds, with might and splendor and precious garments, with many thousands of princesses and ministers and many riders in armor and beating drums, the horses and wagons overlaid with silver and gold and inlaid with gold and precious stones, wealth and greatness from nobles and noblewomen, and she sat in the carriage with a royal crown on her head adorned with precious stones, onyx stones and gleaming stones, in her right hand the golden apple, the world-globe before her, yellow, and in her left hand the golden scepter...

“When she reached near the slaughterhouses, by the River Danube, close to the water, there was a small mound of refuse prepared and proper for the coronation, from the customs of royalty so that she should not grow haughty. There she descended from the carriage and mounted the horse prepared for her, and two honored ministers walked beside the horse on her right and left, and the ascent of the hill could be seen from afar on the slope though it was small, and she rode without fear, with a sharp sword in her hand, and nevertheless did not falter or sway, and proclaimed in a loud voice: I will be a mother to you, and you will be a people to me.”

The Jews of Prague Welcome the New Queen

As this vivid description suggests, the Jews of Bohemia had reason to hope for good things from their new ruler. In 1741, Maria Theresa gave birth to a son, and Prague’s Jews marked the occasion with an impressive procession through the city streets. On April 24, 1741, the procession was led by the chief communal leader Shimon Frenkel, together with the community’s rabbis and dignitaries. It was a public demonstration of loyalty to the government and the royal dynasty.

That infant would grow up to become Joseph II, an emperor remembered for reforms that improved conditions for Jews. His mother, however, would ultimately prove far less favorable toward them. Before that became clear, however, war descended upon her lands.

The conflict brought military conscription for Jews throughout the kingdom. R. Menachem Amelander describes the situation in She’erit Yisrael:

“All the Jews were taken into the army, among them many who had never been accustomed to any labor in all their lives, and the holy community of Glogau was greatly alarmed and a great fear fell upon them.”

Prague soon came under siege, and hunger spread throughout the city:

“And because of the siege they were forced to eat coarse bread or barley bread, and some people mixed earth into the flour and kneaded it all together and ate it that way because of the hunger. Many hunted mice and cats and dogs, and ate their flesh because of the hunger.”

At midnight on March 8, 1741, an army broke into the city. The Jews initially rejoiced that the siege was finally over.

“They praised the blessed Hashem that the siege had ceased and that the city had not been harmed except that the walls were destroyed, and that not even a single Jew had been killed, for this was a great miracle.”

But within hours, everything changed.

“Joy turned to mourning, for they began to plunder the city.”

Once again, the Jews were blamed, and they paid the price of war.

Rosh Hashanah Under Threat

Half a year later, on the eve of Rosh Hashanah, another foreign army approached Prague, this time the French.

Jewish men were ordered by the authorities to help fortify the city walls, prepare barrels of water to extinguish fires, dig defensive positions, and guard the ramparts and the cannons stationed there.

Inside the synagogues, Selichot and chapters of Tehillim were recited. Prague’s revered rabbi, Rabbi Yehonatan Eybeschutz, organized a rotation of fasts, with 18 men fasting each day.

By the afternoon of November 1, tension had reached a breaking point. Word spread that “the forces of France and Saxony and Bavaria were near the city,” and already “there was a sound of commotion as if the army were coming upon the city of Prague.”

On Motza’ei Shabbat, November 25, the situation became even more frightening:

“Many men of war came into our streets and, by order of General Titul Agilvei [the Austrian garrison commander], demanded several hundred Jews for labor on the ramparts, and if not, he would send hussars to plunder the Jewish street, and there was great turmoil and weeping.”

Rabbi Yehonatan Eybeschutz was awakened in the middle of the night and asked to instruct the members of the community to comply, despite the grave danger.

“My brothers and my children,” he told them, “go with them in peace for the sake of our community, and be prepared and ready for the World to Come.”

Going onto the ramparts meant entering the front line. That very night, enemy troops began attempting to scale the walls with ladders and break into the city under heavy gunfire and shelling.

Within hours, by Sunday morning, November 26, French soldiers were moving through the streets of Prague. The city had fallen.

To everyone’s surprise, several French-speaking Jews accompanied the soldiers and reassured the frightened residents:

“Do not fear and do not be afraid, for the king has ordered them not to touch lives, whether uncircumcised or circumcised, and they have not laid hands on the spoil.”

The Jews quickly gathered for prayers of thanksgiving that no one in the community had lost his life. Yet on the very first day of the occupation, an army commander entered the synagogue, placed a clock on the table, and demanded that the community pay a cash ransom within two hours so that “they should not plunder the Jewish streets.”

Hunger, Bombardment, and Fear

For more than a year, Prague’s residents, and its Jews in particular, lived under crushing pressure.

“They had to give them, day and night, food and drink, fattened chickens and birds called pheasants and pork and sugar wine and coffee... the men of war began eating horse meat, which they slaughtered every day.”

This time, French commanders demanded a daily quota of 100 Jewish men to work on the city’s defensive ramparts.

By August, Austrian pressure on the city intensified. The shelling grew heavier, and panic spread.

“On Tisha B’Av, when we were in the synagogue near the end of the lamentations,” Betzalel Brandeis recounted, “we heard the sound of shooting and firing, with arrows and guns and other weapons and many swords, exceedingly great, and that firing was heard throughout the city and the earth shook and even the heavens poured down, and we were always in panic and dread, blood-curdling because of the great crashing sound of the guns.”

People were killed when houses collapsed and fires broke out.

“For every night they threw several bombs into the city and caused many fires outside the city in the buildings and within the vineyards.”

The French imposed a nighttime curfew, forcing Jews to hold evening prayers in their homes rather than in the synagogues. Hunger continued to worsen.

Only as winter approached did the outcome become clear. The French began their retreat, the Austrian forces returned, and Prague once again came under the rule of Maria Theresa.

“Long Live Our Lady Queen Maria Theresa”

On Wednesday, December 13, 1742, a delegation representing Prague’s Jews received a promise from the Austrian duke Lobkowitz that the community would be granted shelter and protection.

The return of the Austrian army was greeted with tremendous enthusiasm. R. Betzalel Brandeis captured the extraordinary scene:

“Even if all the seas were ink, it would be impossible to write of the great joy among the city’s inhabitants, and from many houses one could hear musical instruments and trumpets, and many thousands of souls stood upon the ground and cried out together, Long live our lady Queen Maria Theresa, and the French went in great shame to their land and handed over hundreds of large firearms and other weapons and military supplies in enormous quantity to the Austrian commanders.”

In Prague’s Maisel and Altneuschul synagogues, the cantors recited Mi Sheberach prayers and publicly declared the community’s loyalty:

“For our gracious lady Queen Maria Theresa, may her honor be exalted, the blessed Hashem shall grant her from now on blessing and success in all the work of her hands, and may all her enemies fall beneath her feet.”

And all the members of the community answered together:

“Amen.”