In 1862, J. A. Joel and 20 other Jewish soldiers in the 23rd Ohio Volunteer Regiment decided they wanted to celebrate Passover with a seder service-plus-meal. However, they didn’t have ready access to materials and foods because they were in winter quarters in Fayette, W. Va.
They had one piece of luck. The camp sutler (a civilian merchant who sold food, tobacco, and other items to soldiers) was a Jew from Cincinnati, who was going back there for Passover. He agreed to send some matzah to the soldiers, and not only provided seven barrels of it, but sent along some haggadahs (the prayer book for the seder) as well.
However, the other items needed to be found. So, in the way of Civil War soldiers, they foraged. According to Joel’s account (excerpted in Bertram W. Korn’s book “American Jewry and the Civil War”), “We obtained two kegs of cider, a lamb, several chickens, and some eggs. Horseradish or parsley we could not obtain, but in lieu we found a weed, whose bitterness, I apprehend, exceeded anything our forefathers ‘enjoyed.’”
But there were problems. What part of the lamb to put on the table to represent it? It is supposed to be a shank bone; but the soldiers decided instead “to cook the whole and put it on the table, then we could dine off it, and be sure we had the right part.”
Another was obtaining charoset, the sweet concoction meant to resemble and represent mortar that Jewish slaves used in Egypt. That, too, was solved ingeniously. “We got a brick which, rather hard to digest, reminded us, by looking at it, for what purpose it was intended.” And of course, they had no wine for the required four cups, but the southern cider served that purpose admirably.
The seder took place in a log hut, and things were going well — until the time came to taste the maror (bitter herbs) meant to represent the bitterness of slavery. The substitute weed filled the role too well. “The herb was very bitter and very fiery like Cayenne pepper, and excited our thirst to such a degree that we forgot the law authorizing us to drink only four cups, and the consequence was we drank up all the cider.”
And that cider was so potent that “one thought he was Moses, another Aaron, and one had the audacity to call himself a Pharaoh. The consequence was a skirmish, with nobody hurt, only Moses, Aaron, and Pharaoh had to be carried to the camp” and left to sleep it off, while the service and meal continued.
I bring up this story not only because it is fun to remember things about Jewish Civil War soldiers during this period of the war’s 150th anniversary. The story also demonstrates how Passover seems to bring out Jewish creativity.
Indeed, it has done so for centuries. There are illuminated haggadahs going back to the Middle Ages. But the creativity doesn’t just involve illustrating the traditional text. Jews have made creative editions of the haggadah and creative versions of the seder.
I know of feminist haggadahs, vegetarian haggadahs, environmentalist haggadahs, Holocaust haggadahs, haggadahs about Israel, haggadahs about modern victims of genocide or slavery. People have added prayers and songs, poetry and prose, to the seder. When my cousin Molly Baron was attending the Milwaukee Jewish Day School, she constantly brought MJDS songs to the seder. I have been a guest at a seder where participants were expected to be prepared for discussion.
Today, there is a whole industry of haggadahs and books that seek creative input into the Passover seder. For those for whom the traditional haggadah is just fine, there are many editions of that with illustrations and different translations and commentaries, providing food for the mind and spirit while one anticipates the great Passover food for the mouth and stomach.
And that is to say nothing of the creativity that can go into making the seder plate holding the ritual foods for the ceremony. The cover of this issue’s Passover Magazine provides a small sampling of those. Finally, as the Civil War story illustrates, Jews have found ways to hold seders even in difficult circumstances where the proper materials are lacking.
Small wonder Passover is one of the most popular of all Jewish holidays, and the seder one of the most popular of all Jewish rituals, in the modern Jewish world. (I have seen estimates that anywhere from two-thirds to more than four-fifths of U.S. and Israeli Jews attend Passover seders.) The holiday has a great theme, the seder is a beautiful ritual with great food, and all of this seems to inspire Jews the world over and through the centuries with creativity.
Civil War soldier Joel wrote, “There is no occasion in my life that gives me more pleasure and satisfaction than when I remember the celebration of Passover of 1862.” May your Passover this and every year do that for you. Chag same’ach.
