[3] Florez, x. 245.
Of the last of these there is an interesting account in an Arab writer, who died in 1034.[1] "I once entered at night," he says, "into the principal Christian Church. I found it all strewed with green branches of myrtle, and planted with cypress trees. The noise of the thundering bells resounded in my ears; the glare of the innumerable lamps dazzled my eyes; the priests, decked in rich silken robes of gay and fanciful colours, and girt with girdle cords, advanced to adore Jesus. Everyone of those present had banished mirth from his countenance, and expelled from his mind all agreeable ideas; and if they directed their steps towards the marble font it was merely to take sips of water with the hollow of their hands. The priest then rose and stood among them, and taking the wine cup in his hands prepared to consecrate it: he applied to the liquor his parched lips, lips as dark as the dusky lips of a beautiful maid; the fragrancy of its contents captivated his senses, but when he had tasted the delicious liquor, the sweetness and flavour seemed to overpower him." On leaving the church, the Arab, with true Arabian facility, extemporized some verses to the following effect: "By the Lord of mercy! this mansion of God is pervaded with the smell of unfermented red liquor, so pleasant to the youth. It was to a girl that their prayers were addressed, it was for her that they put on their gay tunics, instead of humiliating themselves before the Almighty." Ahmed also says: "the priests, wishing us to stay long among them, began to sing round us with their books in their hands; every wretch presented us the palm of his withered hand (with the holy water), but they were even like the bat, whose safety consists in his hatred for light; offering us every attraction that their drinking of new wine, or their eating of swine's flesh, could afford." This narrative is in many respects very characteristic of an Arab writer, who would not feel the incongruity of an illustration on such a theme drawn from "the lips of a maid," or the irrelevancy of a reference to swine's flesh. But the account merits attention on other grounds, for it shews how little even the more intelligent Moslems understood the ceremonies of the religion which they had conquered, though they might be pardoned for thinking that the Christians worshipped the Virgin Mary, both because Mohammed himself fell into the same error, and because probably the Roman Church and its adherents had already begun to pay her idolatrous worship.
The chief church in Cordova at the conquest seems to have been the church of St Vincent. On the taking of the town,[2] the Christians had to give up half of it to the Arabs, a curious arrangement, but one enforced elsewhere by the Saracens. In 784 the Christians were induced, or compelled, to sell their half for 100,000 dinars, and it was pulled down to make room for the Great Mosque.[3] In 894 we find that the Cordovans were allowed to build a new church.
[1] Ahmed ibn Abdilmalik ibn Shoheyd, Al Makk., i. 246. I quote De Gayangos' translation.
[2] De Gayangos on Al Makk., i. 368, says the cathedral was at first guaranteed to the Christians. Some time later than 750 they had to surrender half of it; in 784 they were obliged to sell the other half, and in return were allowed to rebuild the destroyed churches. For the "church of the burnt" see above, p. 29, note 1.
[3] This was not finished till 793. The original structure cost 80,000 dinars. Several Khalifs added to it, and Hakem II. (961-976) alone spent on it 160,000 dinars.
Besides these within the walls, there were ten or twelve monasteries and churches in the immediate neighbourhood of Cordova: among them the monastery of St Christopher, the famous one of Tabanos, suppressed as above mentioned, in 854;[1] those of St Felix at Froniano, of St Martin at Royana, of the Virgin Mary at Cuteclara, of St Salvator at Pegnamellar; and the churches of SS. Justus and Pastor, and of St Sebastian.
We have given the names of these churches and monasteries[2] at or near Cordova, both to shew how numerous they were, and also because from one or other of them came nearly all the self-devoted martyrs, of whom we are about to consider the claims. Except in cases like that above-mentioned, the Christians were not allowed to build new churches,[3] but considering the diminution in the numbers of the Christians owing to the conquest, and the apostasy of a great many, this could not be reckoned a great hardship. Moreover the Christian churches, it was ordained, should be open to Moslems as well as Christians, though during the performance of mass it seems that they had to be kept closed. The Mosques were never to be polluted by the step of an infidel.[4]
[1] Dozy, ii. 162.
[2] Monasteries were established in Spain 150 years before the Saracen conquest. They mostly fared badly at the hands of the Arabs, in spite of the injunctions of the Khalif Abubeker (see Conde, i. 37, and Gibbon), but that of Lorban at Coimbra received a favourable charter in 734 (Fleury, v. 89; but Dunham, ii. 154, doubts the authenticity of the charter).