After several years of fighting Godfrey of Bouillon, ephemeral king of Jerusalem, took his homeward road back to France, accompanied by three cavaliers, in all, 'then, four horses, one more than Rashi had predicted. Godfrey remembered the rabbi's prophecy, and determined to carry out his threat. But when he entered the city of Troyes, a large rock, loosened from the gate, fell upon one of the riders, killing him and his horse. Amazed at the miracle, the duke perforce had to recognize that Rashi had not been wrong, and he wanted to go to the seer to render him homage, but he learned that Rashi had died meanwhile. This grieved him greatly.
This legend was further embellished by the addition of details. Some placed the scene at Worms; others asserted that the duke asked Rashi to accompany him to Lorraine; but Rashi nobly refused, as Maimonides did later. All forgot that Godfrey of Bouillon after he left for the Crusades never saw his fatherland again, but died at Jerusalem, five years before Rashi.
Rashi's life offers no more noteworthy events. He passed the balance of his days in study, in guiding the community, and in composing his works. Without doubt, our lack of information concerning his last years is due to this very fact-to the peace and calm in which that time was spent.
A naive legend has it that he wanted to know who would be his companion in Paradise. He learned in a dream that the man lived at Barcelona, and was called Abraham the Just. In order to become acquainted with him while still on earth, Rashi, despite his great age, started forth on a journey to Barcelona. There he found a very rich man, but, as was alleged, he was also very impious. However, Rashi was not long in discovering that for all his life of luxury he was just and generous of spirit. Rashi even composed a work in his honor entitled "The Amphitryon," in Hebrew, <I>Ha-Parnes.</I> Do you think the work was lost? Not a bit of it. It still exists, but it is called <I>Ha-Pardes.</I> The legend is based upon a copyist's mistake. However, it is found in different forms in other literatures.
Beyond a doubt Rashi died and was buried in his birthplace. Nevertheless the story is told, that as he was about to return to France with his young wife, the daughter of his host at Prague, after his long trip of study and exploration, which I have already described, an unknown man entered his dwelling and struck him a mortal blow. But the people could not resign themselves to accept so miserable an end for so illustrious a man, and the legend received an addition. At the very moment Rashi was to be buried, his wife ran up and brought him back to life by means of a philtre. His father-in-law, in order not to excite the envy of his enemies, kept the happy event a secret, and ordered the funeral to be held. The coffin was carried with great pomp to the grave, which became an object of veneration for the Jews of Prague. In fact, a tomb is pointed out as being that of the celebrated rabbi, and, as the inscription is effaced, the assertion can safely be made that Rashi died in the capital of Bohemia.
Rashi's death was less touching and less tragic. We learn from a manuscript dated Thursday, the twenty-ninth of Tammuz, in the year 4865 of the Creation (July 13, 1105), that Rashi died at Troyes. He was then sixty-five years of age.
It is as though the echo of the regrets caused by Rashi's death resounded in the following note in an old manuscript: "As the owner of a fig-tree knows when it is time to cull the figs, so God knew the appointed time of Rashi, and carried him away in his hour to let him enter heaven. Alas! he is no more, for God has taken him." These few lines, without doubt the note of some copyist, show with what deep respect the memory of Rashi came to be cherished but shortly after his death. Like Rabbeun Gershom he was awarded after his death the title of "Light of the Captivity." But later the title was applied only to Gershom, as though Rashi had no need of it to distinguish him.
Rashi died "full of days," having led a life of few incidents, because it was uniformly devoted to study and labor. He was like a patriarch who is surrounded by the affection of his children and by the respect of his contemporaries. To future generations he bequeathed the memory of his virtues and the greatness of his work. And his memory has survived the neglect of time and the ingratitude of man. Posterity has enveloped his brow with a halo of glory, and after the lapse of eight centuries the radiance of his personality remains undiminished.