There can be no doubt, however, that the good understanding, which at first existed between the Moslems and their Christian subjects, gradually gave place to a very different state of things, owing in no small degree to the free Christians in the North, whose presence on their borders was a continual menace to the Moslem dominion, and a perpetual incentive to the subject Christians to rise and assert their freedom.
Our purpose now is to trace out, so far as the scanty indications scattered in the writers of the time will allow, the relations that existed between the two religions during the 275 years of the Khalifate, and the influence which these relations had upon the development of the one and the other. It will be agreeable to the natural arrangement to take the former question first.
With a view to the better understanding of the position of Christianity and Mohammedanism at the very beginning of our inquiry, we have thought it advisable to point out in a preliminary sketch the development of Christianity in Spain previous to the period when the Moslems, fresh from their native deserts of Arabia and Africa, bearing the sword in one hand and the Koran in the other, possessed themselves of one of the fairest provinces of Christendom. This having been already done, we can at once proceed to investigate the mutual relations of Christianity and Mohammedanism in Spain during the 300 years of the Khalifate of Cordova.
It was in fulfilment of a supposed prophecy of Mohammed's, and in obedience to the precepts of the Koran itself, that the Arabs, having overrun Syria, Egypt, and Africa, passed over into Spain, and the war from the very first took the character of a jehad, or religious war—a character which it retained with the ever-increasing fanaticism of the combatants until every Mohammedan had been forced to abjure his creed, or been driven out of Spain. But, as we have seen, the conquest itself was singularly free from any outbursts of religious frenzy; though of course there must have been many Christians, who laid down their lives in defence of all that was near and dear to them, in defence of their wives and their children, their homes and their country, their religion and their honour. One such instance at least has been recorded by the Arab historians,[1] when the Governor, and 400 of the garrison, of Cordova, after three months' siege in the church of St George, chose rather to be burnt in their hold than surrender upon condition either of embracing Islam, or paying tribute.
Omitting the story of the fabulous martyr Nicolaus, as being a tissue of errors and absurdities,[2] the first martyr properly so called was a certain bishop, named Anambad, who was put to death by Othman ibn abi Nesah (727-728)—a governor guilty of shedding much Christian blood, if Isidore is to be believed.[3]
[1] Al Makkari, i. 279, says: "This was the cause of the spot being called ever since the Kenisatu-l-haraki (the church of the burnt), as likewise of the great veneration in which it has always been held by the Christians, on account of the courage and endurance displayed in the cause of their religion by those who died in it."
[2] Florez, "España Sagr," xiv. 392.
[3] Isidore, sec. 58, "Munuza quia a sanguine Christianorum, quen ibidem innocentem fuderat, nimium erat crapulatus, et Anabadi, illustris episcopi,.... quem ipse cremaverat, valde exhaustus," etc. It is doubtful who this Munuza was, but probably Othman ibn abi Nesah, Governor of Spain.
Fifteen years later a Christian named Peter, pursuing very much the same tactics as the pseudo-martyrs in the next century, brought about his own condemnation and death. He held a responsible post under Government, that of receiver of public imposts, and seems to have stood on terms of friendship with many of the Arab nobles. Perhaps he had been rather lax in his religious observances, or even disguised his Christianity from motives of interest. However, he fell sick, and thinking that his life was near its end, he called together his Moslem friends, and thanking them for showing their concern for him by coming, he proceeded, "But I desire you to be witnesses of this my last will. Whosoever believeth not on the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, the Consubstantial Trinity, is blind in heart, and deserveth eternal punishment, as also doth Mohammed, your false prophet, the forerunner of Antichrist. Renounce, therefore, these fables, I conjure you this day, and let heaven and earth witness between us." Though greatly incensed, as was natural, the hearers resolved to take no notice of these and other like words, charitably supposing the sick man to be light-headed; but Peter, having unexpectedly recovered, repeated his former condemnation of Mohammed, cursing him, his book, and his followers. Thereupon he was executed, and we cannot be altogether surprised at it.[1]
Besides these two isolated cases of martyrdom, we do not find any more recorded until the reign of Abdurrahman II. (May 822-Aug. 852). In the second year of this king's reign, two Christians, John and Adulphus, making public profession of their faith, and denouncing Mohammed, were put to death on Sept 17, 824.[2]