So the Jews had to submit to the iron will of necessity, and grasp their pilgrims' staffs. When 1,400 souls had fallen into distress, or at least into an anxious plight, and many had succumbed, the remainder, more than three hundred, again petitioned the emperor, recounting the services of Jews to the imperial house, and showing all the accusations against them to be groundless, at all events not proven. They did not shrink from declaring that to be a Jew could not be called a crime, and protested that they ought to be treated as Roman citizens, who ought not to be summarily expelled. They begged at least for a respite until the next meeting of the Reichstag. Even this petition, in which they referred to the difficulty of finding a refuge, if the emperor, the ruler of half of Europe, rejected them, remained without effect. All had to depart; only one family, that of the court factor, Marcus Schlesinger Jaffa, was allowed to remain in Vienna, on account of services rendered. The Jesuits were full of joy, and proclaimed the praise of God in a gradual. The magistrates bought the Jews' quarter from the emperor for 100,000 florins, and called it Leopoldstadt in his honor. The site of the synagogue was used for a church, of which the emperor laid the corner-stone (August 18, 1670) in honor of his patron saint. A golden tablet was to perpetuate the shameful deeds of the Jews: "After the Jews were banished, the emperor caused their synagogue, which had been as a charnel-house, to be made into a house of God." The tablet, however, only proves the mental weakness of the emperor and his people. The Talmud school (Beth ha-Midrash) was likewise converted into a church, and named in honor of the empress and her patron saint.