If I were to recount to you the many sufferings that have befallen us, your minds would be appalled. I will therefore set before you, briefly, a table of calamity adorned with poison and wormwood. I will relate the events as they occurred, so that you may taste our bitterness and wormwood and drink from the wine of our sorrow. Since I assume that you have already heard what happened, I will record it as briefly and orderly as possible. This is how it began.

On the first day of the bitter and disastrous month of Tammuz in the year 5151 [June 1391], the Lord drew the bows of the enemy against the populous community of Seville, which contained approximately six or seven thousand householders. They set its gates on fire and killed a great number of people, although most converted. Some of the children and women were sold to Muslims. The Jewish streets were left deserted. Many died sanctifying the name of God, while many others violated the holy covenant.

From there the fire spread and consumed all the cedars of Lebanon, the holy city and community of Córdoba. There, too, many converted and the community was left in ruins.

On a day of trouble and rebuke, a day upon which calamities were doubled, the seventeenth of Tammuz, the wrath of the Lord was poured out upon the holy city from which Torah and the word of the Lord had gone forth, the community of Toledo. Priest and prophet were killed in the sanctuary of the Lord. Its rabbis publicly sanctified God’s name. They were the worthy and chosen descendants of Rabbi Asher, of blessed memory, together with their sons and students. Many others converted there because they couldn’t defend themselves.

Because of these three events, the earth trembled. This is apart from the other communities in the surrounding areas, numbering approximately seventy towns. Throughout all this, we remained here in anguish, keeping watch by night and by day.

On the seventh of Av, the Lord swallowed up without mercy the community of Valencia. It contained approximately one thousand householders. About 250 people died sanctifying God’s name. The remainder fled toward the mountains, but only a few escaped and most converted.

From there the plague spread to the communities of refined Majorca, which dwells by the seashore. On the first day of Elul, lawless men entered, desecrated the community, plundered and despoiled it and left it like a net emptied of fish. Approximately three hundred people died sanctifying God’s name. About eight hundred escaped to the king’s fortress, while the remainder converted.

On the following Sabbath, the Lord poured out His wrath like fire. He rejected His sanctuary and profaned the crown of His Torah, the community of Barcelona, which was breached that day. The number of those killed was approximately 250. All the rest of the community fled to the fortress and found refuge there.

The enemies plundered all the Jewish streets and set some of them on fire. The governor of the province had no part in this treachery and sought to save the Jews with all his power. They supplied the Jews in the fortress with bread and water and prepared to punish the criminals.

Then an uproar arose among the poorer classes. A great multitude turned against the province’s leading citizens and attacked the Jews in the fortress with bows and catapults. They struck and crushed them there inside the fortress.

Many sanctified God’s name. Among them was my only son, a bridegroom, an unblemished lamb whom I offered as a burnt offering. I accept God’s judgment upon me and take comfort in the goodness of my son’s portion and the pleasantness of his fate.

Many of them slaughtered themselves. Others threw themselves from the tower and, before they had fallen halfway down, their bodies were torn limb from limb. Some went out from there and sanctified God’s name in the street.

All the rest converted. Only a few escaped to the towns belonging to the nobles, so few that a child could write down their number, although they were among the community’s distinguished members. Because of our many sins, no one in Barcelona today is called by the name Israel.

In the city of Lleida, too, many died and the remainder converted. Only a few escaped.

In Girona, where Torah and humility were found together, the rabbis publicly sanctified God’s name. Only a few converted. Most of the community found refuge in the homes of Christian townspeople and are now in the fortress.

In conclusion, not one Jew remains in the kingdom of Valencia except in one place called Morvedre. In the territory of Catalonia, no Jews remain except in towns belonging to nobles and governors, where no one raised a hand against them.

As for us here today, throughout the lands of Aragon, there is neither breach nor outcry. In His mercy toward us, the Lord has preserved a remnant in all these places following our strenuous efforts and the great expenditure of our wealth. Of all our possessions, nothing remains to us but our bodies.

Even so, our hearts are filled with fear and our eyes are lifted toward our Father in heaven. May He be gracious to us, heal us of our suffering and not allow our feet to slip. May this be His will. Amen.

I am the man who has seen affliction beneath the rod of His wrath, Hasdai son of Abraham, son of Hasdai, son of Judah Crescas, writing here on the twentieth day of the month of Marheshvan, in the year 5152 from Creation [October 19, 1391].

Source: Hasdai Crescas, letter to the Jews of Avignon, in Shevet Yehudah, edited by Meir Wiener, Hanover, 1855, pp. 128–130.