The War, the Manuscripts, and the Jewish Banker Who Saved Them

The Treaty of Karlowitz, signed in 1699, marked a turning point in the history of Eastern Europe. For centuries, the Ottoman Empire had dominated the region as the direct heir to the Byzantine Empire, ruling from Constantinople. But after a long and brutal series of wars with the Habsburg Empire, the Ottomans were finally defeated. From that point on, their power was largely limited to the Middle East, a hold they would maintain for another 215 years, until the First World War.

The Austrians celebrated their victory with great pride. Nobles and generals from across the empire, including Prussia, claimed glory. In one of the final battles, fought in what is now Serbia, an astonishing 30,000 Turks were killed in a single day. From that carnage came the bitter jest: "Kill a Turk and rest."

War, Bloodshed, and Jewish Suffering

But how did all of this impact the Jews? Sadly, not well. Neither side had much love for the Jews, and each oppressed them in its own way. One of the Austrian war heroes, Prince Eugene of Savoy, burned Jewish quarters, expelled Jewish families, and looted whatever property he could for his troops while razing towns in the Balkans. The Nazis would later name their 7th SS Mountain Division after him: "Prinz Eugen." 

And yet, the Jewish mind never stopped working.

Where others saw conquest and honor, Jews thought about Torah and survival. Rabbi Shmuel Oppenheimer, a descendant of Rashi and King David and the court banker of Emperor Leopold I, financed the Habsburg war effort against the Turks. While Leopold himself was no friend to the Jews, having enacted harsh decrees, he placed full financial trust in Rabbi Shmuel, whose wealth supported the imperial campaigns.

Rabbi Shmuel asked for just one thing in return. He didn't ask for honor, jewels, or titles. He asked for Hebrew manuscripts. Whenever imperial soldiers came across Hebrew scrolls or books in synagogues, monasteries, or public buildings, they were to preserve them and bring them to Rabbi Shmuel. And so they did. By war’s end, manuscripts had poured in by the hundreds.

From Banker to Collector to Preserver of Torah

These manuscripts, some dating back centuries, would have otherwise vanished. Rabbi Shmuel treasured them and passed them on to his nephew, Rabbi David Oppenheim, who became Chief Rabbi of Prague in 1782. A disciple of the Chavot Yair, Rabbi David authored several major halachic (Jewish legal) works and became one of the most important collectors of Jewish books and manuscripts in the world.

He dedicated his life and wealth to acquiring rare texts from around the globe. His legendary library became a destination for Torah scholars who traveled to Prague to study from its rare editions and original writings of the Rishonim.

Today, Rabbi David’s collection still draws global scholarly interest, but it no longer sits in a Beit Midrash (study hall). Instead, it resides in the Bodleian Library at Oxford University. The reason? One of Rabbi David’s descendants fell into financial hardship and pawned the collection. Eventually, it was sold outright to the university for the sum of approximately $7,000. To this day, previously unknown manuscripts continue to emerge from that purchase.

Why His Books Still Endure

Scholars over the years have noted something striking: the books that originated in Rabbi David’s library show no signs of decay, unlike many printed in the same era. Some attributed this to his profound reverence for Torah, believing that his honor for the sacred texts protected them. Others suggested a more practical explanation: Rabbi David had specially ordered his copies to be printed on high-quality paper, far superior to the standard editions.

Whether by merit or foresight, his efforts bore fruit. Through war, exile, and generations of upheaval, Rabbi David Oppenheim ensured that the light of Torah would not fade. He didn’t seek monuments or medals, but in the pages of those books, his legacy continues to speak.