The vanquished were unable to make the same progress, nor were they to attain to great results until after having received the contact of the works of their conquerors. These results were arrived at later on, thanks to a certain courtesy which, outside the war as it were, and in times of truce, established between the two peoples mutual relations and currents of influence which left their impress on all the creations of genius.
When King Alfonso commenced the cathedral of Compostella, the conquest was still too recent and the animosity too great between the Spaniards and their subduers to allow of any amicable intercourse or interchange of ideas on matters connected with the arts of peace. The architecture of the close of the ninth century was heavy and the forms massive; not without grandeur, though for the most part devoid of grace. Such, doubtless, in its general features, was the ancient cathedral of Compostella, which was completed about the year 874. Mariana, following the statement of Sandoval, says that there was held there in 876 a council of fourteen bishops, who consecrated the new edifice. The high altar was dedicated to our Lord under the title of St. Saviour, that on the right to St. Peter, and that on the left to St. Paul, while the ancient altar over the apostle’s tomb, which reached back to a remote antiquity, received no consecration, it being regarded as certain that this had received it from the first disciples of St. James.
The erection of the cathedral gave a new impetus to the pilgrimage, to facilitate which roads were made in the south of France and the north of Spain. Monasteries and houses of refuge were built along the wild and lonely defiles of the Pyrenees, and bridges thrown across the streams and rivers. The roads were thronged by the multitudes, who came, some from simple devotion, others to do penance and seek pardon of their sins, and many also to obtain some particular favor—the cure of a sickness or the success of an undertaking. Great was the renown of Monsignor St. James, the power of whose intercession and the splendor of whose miracles were held in high esteem at Rome. Pope John X., at the commencement of the tenth century, sent to his tomb a priest named Zanelus to obtain correct information respecting the number of pilgrims and the authenticity of the numerous miracles; he was also charged to examine the liturgical books of the Goths, respecting which it had been stated that they were full of errors. The bishop, Sisenand, received him with all honor, supplied him with every means of faithfully acquitting himself of his mission, and convinced him of the purity of the ancient liturgy of Spain. All the books which Zanelus took from thence received the Supreme Pontiff’s approval, the only alteration he required being that in the words of consecration the Spanish rite should conform itself exactly to that of Rome.
Compostella, daily enriched by travellers too numerous for her to entertain, became a town of ever-increasing importance. The church especially, to which very costly offerings were continually being made, which had immense revenues and possessed superb domains, was in richness and magnificence one of the first in the world. Her prelates, however, did not always make good use of their riches. The church was then passing through deplorable times, and corruption, which was invading all besides, made inroads also in the sanctuary. The bishops of Compostella were usually chosen from among the noble and illustrious families of the kingdom, brought up amid luxury, pleasure, and the tumult of arms, and, carrying their worldly predilections with them to the episcopal throne, they might be seen constantly in the chase or at the war, sometimes driven from their see, and, attempting to return by force, dying a violent death. One of these, Sisenand, unlike his worthy predecessor of the same name, was in 979 killed at the head of a squadron while charging the Normans, who had invaded Galicia. He would have been a good captain; why was he made a bishop? Compostella owed to him the solid walls and strong towers with which he fortified the town. His successor, Pelayo, being equally unfitted for his office, was deposed, and replaced by a pious priest named Pedro Mansorio, upon whom the misdoings of his predecessors were visited. He had the grief of seeing the city taken by the Moors, who profaned and devastated the cathedral. His immediate successors failed to profit by this chastisement, and, after three unworthy prelates had occupied the see, the enemy advanced from the direction of Portugal (which they had invaded and ravaged) in greater numbers than before; again they besieged and took the city, which they set on fire and razed the walls. Alman-Zour fed his horse from the porphyry urn in the cathedral which was used for the baptismal font, and which still exists; gave up the sanctuary to pillage and destruction, throwing down many of the pillars, as well as a portion of the walls; and, taking down the bells, caused them to be dragged by Christian captives to the great mosque at Toledo, where they were turned upside down and made to serve as lamps. He was proceeding to make havoc also of the apostle’s tomb, when a bright light, suddenly emanating from and enveloping it, so terrified the infidels that they stopped short in their sacrilege, fearing lest they should be stricken by the “apostle of Isa” (Jesus). An aged monk sat by the tomb, alone, and doubtless hoping for martyrdom in that spot at the hand of the spoilers. Alman-Zour asked why he stayed there, and, on his answering that he was “the friend of Santiago,” commanded that no one should lay hands upon him, and the Mussulmans respected the fakir. It is the Moorish annals nearly contemporary with the events we are noticing which mention this incident, and which appreciate in a very curious manner the pilgrimage of St. James, describing as follows Shant Jakoh, the sacred city of Kalikija (Galicia): “Their Kabah is a colossal idol in the centre of the church; they swear by it, and come on pilgrimage to it from the most distant lands, from Rome as well as from other countries, pretending that the tomb which may there be seen is that of Jakoh, one of the best beloved of the twelve apostles of Isa. May happiness and the benediction of Allah be upon him and upon our Prophet!”
The army of Alman-Zour did not reap any benefit from its sacrilegious plunder: a contagious malady made such terrible ravages in its ranks that there were scarcely any soldiers left; he therefore hastened his departure from Galicia, but was himself also stricken by death upon the way.
It was not possible immediately to raise the cathedral from its ruins, but the confluence of pilgrims never ceased, and the offerings of Christendom were such as to render the hope almost a certainty that it would at no distant period be worthily rebuilt.
Towards the year 1038 Ferdinand, having been made king of Castile and Leon, fought the Moors in several engagements, defeated them in Portugal, and, having dispossessed them of numerous strongholds and fortified places, desired to testify his gratitude to the God of armies by repairing to Compostella. There he prayed long at the apostle’s tomb, and took the resolution never to lay down his arms until he had broken the power of the enemy.
After taking the powerful city of Coimbra, the capture of which he attributed to the protection of St. James, the king returned to Compostella laden with booty, which, in gratitude for his victory, he presented to the church.
Compostella had now bishops worthy of their sacred dignity. In 1056 Cresconius, who then ruled the diocese, presided, at a council held there, in his quality of bishop of the Apostolic See. Rome thus exercised her influence, and this influence was so salutary that Pelago, a near successor of Cresconius, desired to give it a larger place in his church. He laid aside the Mozarabic Rite and adopted the Roman in the celebration of Mass and the recitation of the Canonical Hours, accepting at the same time all the Roman rules on important matters of sacerdotal discipline. And Compostella had not long to wait before receiving the recompense of her submission and good-will. In 1075, the same year in which Ferdinand took Toledo, the see of Santiago (for this had become the name of the town), which had hitherto been suffragan to Merida, was raised to the metropolitan dignity.
We have now reached the period in which, thanks to the liberality of the faithful, the cathedral of Compostella was not only raised from its ruins, but entirely rebuilt on a larger scale and with much greater splendor. Gemirez, the first archbishop of Santiago, was one of its greatest prelates.