The Mystifying Disappearance: Is the Marriage Annulled?

On a Shabbat morning in Elul 10, 1766, the newlywed Leah Gontchevsky from Bonn, Germany, awoke a bit late. Just last Friday evening, she had married Yitzik Neuberg. As she looked at the second bed next to her, she suddenly discovered: the bed was empty. Had her groom gone to pray without telling her? Soon it became clear that Yitzik was neither at the synagogue nor in Bonn at all. He had vanished. Along with him disappeared the dowry money.

Concerned for his safety, family members and local Jews began a wide search in the area, and Yitzik was finally found in the home of a non-Jewish coachman in a nearby village. This coachman was supposed to take him toward the Dutch border, aiming to continue to England. The reason was, he felt he was in great danger and had to flee.

The bride's family, unaware of any danger and not understanding what Yitzik was talking about, tried to reason with him, but he trembled with fear stating he could not stay in the country and must leave. Reluctantly, they asked him to at least write a divorce document for his wife. Yitzik refused to arrange the document in Düsseldorf, and the bride’s family accompanied him on his journey north, to the town of Kleve near the Dutch border, where Rabbi Lipshitz arranged the document (the ancestor of the author of 'Tiferet Yisrael' on the Mishna). Most of the dowry money was returned to Leah. Yitzik continued his bizarre escape to England, and the bride returned home in sorrow and grief, but free and allowed to marry anyone. Seemingly.

All this took place within days. When the news reached Mannheim, to the groom’s father, Eliezer Neuberg, he refused to accept what had happened. In his opinion, his son had an attack of madness and delusion, an imaginary paranoia, to the extent that he fled outside the city limits on Shabbat, carrying items contrary to Jewish law, and money taken without permission, without speaking to anyone. This was nothing short of madness, and as known, a madman cannot write a divorce document.

Neuberg approached the rabbis of the nearby large city, Frankfurt, a city of significance in the Jewish world with great scholars throughout the ages. They deliberated and agreed that the document was null, and the woman was prohibited from remarrying in the meantime. They published their opinion in a special public announcement.

When Rabbi Lipshitz heard this from Kleve, he could not in any way accept a situation where the Frankfurt rabbis annulled a document he arranged without hearing him out, when he himself examined and spoke with the groom. It’s true there was an inexplicable fear, but to label him as 'mad,' was a stretch. He wrote to most of the great Jewish legal scholars of that time, commencing an extensive halachic correspondence. The Jewish study halls across Central Europe debated the issue intensely. The topic of divorces by madmen was explored, and each scholar shared their views. As is the nature of Torah, many debates and discussions arose over additional details, and as happens in the world, the halachic debate was accompanied by harsh tones of denials and mutual accusations. The Jewish world was shaken.

Several months later, the conclusions of most of the great legal scholars were published: Rabbi Yechezkel Landau, the 'Noda B'Yehuda,' from Prague; Rabbi Aryeh Leib from Metz, the 'Shagat Aryeh'; Rabbi Yaakov Emden, the Yaavetz, one of the elder rabbis of the generation; Rabbi David Lissa ('Korban Edah'); Rabbi David Tevele from Minsk, and other prominent figures. All agreed with Rabbi Lipshitz’s actions, relying on his assessment that despite his odd actions, Yitzik had not reached the level of madness exempting him from commandments (and somewhat ironically, a plan to escape and travel to London, although strange, is indeed a plan by someone who knows what he wants). The document was valid, and the woman could marry any man.

The 'Noda B'Yehuda,' who was concerned over the woman’s plight, worried that due to the Frankfurt rabbis' decision, nobody would want to marry her, fearing she might actually be married, publicly swore she was permitted and announced he was ready to arrange her marriage to anyone willing to marry her. He also declared: 'From the inception of the world, there was never a disgrace to all the sages of the generation as has occurred in our time and our generation by the judges of the sacred community of Frankfurt with the aforementioned announcement.'

The Frankfurt rabbis, seeing themselves as the local authority, due to the proximity of Bonn, Mannheim, and Kleve to their area, claimed that there was an ancient regulation from early years stating distant rabbinical courts should not interfere in Frankfurt’s divorce arrangements, thus they excommunicated anyone who would validate this document and this woman. The Frankfurt community’s statutes declared any rabbi supporting the document’s validity could never serve as a rabbi in Frankfurt henceforth, and when the local rabbi passed away, Frankfurt’s council searched for a rabbi who hadn’t expressed a permissive opinion, until they found Rabbi Pinchas Horowitz, the 'Hafla’ah,' teacher of the Chasam Sofer, who hadn’t explicitly forbidden or permitted it...

The dispute might have continued for a long time and who knows what damages it might have caused if not for the surprise return of Mr. Yitzik after his journey to London. The 'madness' or 'oddness' faded. He asked to return to his wife, and surprisingly, she agreed. To be safe, he remarried her, albeit without a blessing or the seven blessings, since according to the Frankfurt scholars, they were already married. The couple lived happily for many years, and the halachic literature preserved many responses dealing with them, contributing greatly to the understanding of the 'madman' laws in halacha.