The Dark Legacy of the First Blood Libel

Passover is typically a time of joy and liberation, when we gather for the Seder to retell the story of the Exodus – our people's great freedom. Yet, throughout history, this holiday has also brought fear. In medieval Europe, Passover often became a painful reminder of our exile, as vicious blood libels surfaced to cast a shadow over the festivities. The first documented blood libel happened in Norwich, England, in 1144, on the eve of Passover. It marked a tragic milestone, a precursor to the persecutions that followed, serving as a symbol of the dangerous and false accusations that have come to be known as blood libels.

The ordeal began on Friday, March 23, 1144, with the discovery of a 12-year-old Christian boy named William in Thorpe Wood near Norwich. Forest warden Henry of Sprowston found the naked and mutilated body but left it in place for three days, due to the proximity to Easter, before returning to bury it. Soon, a vile rumor spread: Jews had murdered the boy as part of a ritual to allegedly use his blood for making matzos. This baseless accusation – contrary to Jewish law, which strictly prohibits murder and the consumption of blood – spread like wildfire, thrusting the local Jewish community into turmoil.

These accusations were given significant weight when a priest named Thomas of Monmouth penned a book between 1150 and 1172 that described William as a martyr. He claimed that the child's body did not decompose and showed "marks of martyrdom". He collected dubious testimonies: A maid working in a Jewish house claimed to have seen a crucified child there, another Christian alleged he saw Jews carrying the body into the woods, and a converted Jew named Theobald of Cambridge testified that Jews convened annually to decide where a "Christian sacrifice" would take place for Passover – in 1144, he claimed, Norwich had been chosen during a gathering in Narbonne, France. Many historians doubt Theobald's existence and consider his testimony "the foundation of the blood libel myth," but Thomas's words ignited a storm.

At the Easter synod, attended by the Bishop of Norwich and other church dignitaries, the boy's uncle, Godwin Sturt, presented the story as a Jewish ritual. Thomas, head of the Norwich monastery, exploited the situation to boost pilgrimage to his monastery, where supposed miracles occurred – such as beams of light that allegedly illuminated William's grave, as recounted by a lady named Ligarda – to improve the monastery's financial state. The accusations quickly led to severe persecution against Jews. In the subsequent months, several Jews were murdered and tortured, including a man named Eleazar, allegedly the site of the murder. However, the sheriff of Norwich, the king's legal representative, resisted the mob's anger, offering Jews refuge in Norwich Castle, thereby saving many.

Though royal authorities never formally accused the Jews, they did little to combat the phenomenon. Thomas's writings seeped into popular consciousness, making the incident a model for subsequent blood libels. In the ensuing centuries, Jews across Europe were routinely blamed for murdering Christian children before Passover, accusations that sparked massacres and immense suffering. Thousands of Jews were slaughtered, tortured, and died *al kiddush Hashem* (sanctifying God's name). The Norwich blood libel was not only a physical assault on the Jewish community but also the seed of a destructive myth that haunted Jewish people for generations.

By the grace of Hashem, Jews today live peacefully in their land, and as Passover approaches, the excitement is no longer tinged with fear of blood libels. Yet, we must remember those innocent souls who were slaughtered and tortured unjustly. May Hashem avenge their blood.