Not content with imprisoning the fanatics, the party of order forced them to swear that they would not snatch at the martyr's palm by speaking evil of the Prophet.[1] Those who disobeyed were threatened with unheard-of penalties, with loss of limbs, and merciless scourgings.[2] This last statement must be taken with reservation, at least if put into the mouth of the Christian party under Reccafredus. It is extremely unlikely that Christian bishops and priests should have had recourse to such treatment of their coreligionists: yet they had a spiritual weapon ready to their hands, and they were not slow to use it. They anathematised[3] those who aided and abetted the zealots; and Eulogius himself seems to have narrowly escaped their sentence of excommunication.[4]

This action against the zealots was in all probability taken, if not at the instigation of the Moslem authorities, yet in close concert with them. Eulogius[1] attributes all the evils which had befallen the Church, such as the imprisonment of bishops, priests, abbots, and deacons, to the wrath of the King; and Alvar distinctly states that the King was urged, even bribed, to take measures against the Christians.[2] It is not likely that the King required much persuading. Mohammed at least seems to have been thoroughly frightened by the continued agitation against Mohammedanism. He naturally suspected some political plot at the bottom of it; a supposition which receives some countenance from the various references in Eulogius[3] to the martyrs as "Soldiers of God" bound to war against His Moslem enemies; and from the undoubted fact that the Christians of Toledo did rise in favour of their coreligionists at Cordova.[4] However that may be, the King in 852 certainly took counsel[5] with his ministers, how the agitation should be met, and he seems to have assembled a sort of grand council[6] of the Church, when the same question was discussed. Stronger measures were in consequence taken, and a more rigorous imprisonment resorted to. But Mohammed went farther than this. He deprived of their posts all Christians, who held offices in the palace,[7] or in connection with the Court, and withdrew from the Christian "cadet corps,"[8] the royal bounty usually extended to them. He ordered the destruction of all churches built since the conquest, and of all later additions to those previously existing. He made a severe enactment against those who reviled Mohammed.[9] He even had in mind to banish all Christians from his dominions.[10] This intention, together with the order respecting the churches, was not carried out, owing probably to the opportune revolt at Toledo.[11]

In one of his works on this subject, Eulogius expresses a fear lest the intervention of the martyrs should bring disaster on the Church in Spain, just as the intervention of Moses in Egypt did much at first to aggravate the hardships of the Israelites.[1] He ought not, therefore, to have been surprised, when such a result actually did follow; nor ought he to complain that now the Moslems would only let the Christians observe their religion in such a way as they chose to dictate; and that the Christians were subjected to all sorts of taxes and exactions.[2]

These combined measures of repression, taken by the King and the Bishop of Seville, soon produced their effect. The extreme party were broken up, some escaping to quieter regions, others hiding, and only venturing abroad in disguise and at night—not, as Eulogius is careful to add, from fear of death, but because the high prize of martyrdom is not reserved for the unworthy many, but for the worthy few.[3]

Some even apostatized,[1] while many of those who had applauded the proceedings of the martyrs, now called them indiscreet, and blamed them for indulging in a selfish desire to desert the suffering Church for an early mansion in the skies.[2] Others, in order to retain posts under Government, or to court favour with the King, dissembled their religion, taking care not to pray, or make the sign of the cross in public.[3] Eulogius himself was singled out at the meeting of the King's Council by one of the royal secretaries, Gomez, son of Antonian, son of Julian,[4] as the ringleader of the new seditious movement. This man was a very worldly-minded Christian,[5] and was, no doubt, at this time, in fear of losing his lucrative office at Court, which he had obtained by his remarkable knowledge of Arabic. He did, in fact, lose his post with all the other Christian officers of the Court, but regained it by becoming a Moslem;[6] and such was the ardour of the new proselyte that he was called "the dove of the mosque."[7]

The result of this council was, as we have seen, hostile to the party of which Eulogius and Saul were the chiefs, but the former writer, mentioning the actual decree that was passed, pretends that it was merely a blind to deceive the king, and spoken figuratively; and he acknowledges that such hypocrisy was unworthy of the prelates and officers assembled.[8] Is it not more reasonable to suppose that Eulogius and his supporters voted for it—as they seem to have done—with a mental reservation, while their opponents honestly considered such a step necessary?

CHAPTER VI.

THE MUZARABES.

The death of Eulogius was a signal for the cessation of the dubious martyrdoms which had for some years become so common, though the spirit, which prompted the self-deluded victims, was by no means stifled either in Spain or the adjoining countries.[1] Yet the measures taken to put down the mania for death succeeded in preventing any fresh outbreak for some time.

Under the weak government of Abdallah (888-912) the Christians, determining to lose their lives to better purpose than at the hands of the executioner, rose in revolt, as will be related hereafter, in several parts of Spain. After the battle of Aguilar, or Polei, in 891, between the Arab and Spanish factions, 1000 of the defeated Christians were given the choice of Islam or death, and all, save one, chose the latter alternative.[2]

During the long reign of Abdurrahman III. (912-961) there were a few isolated cases of martyrdom, which may as well be mentioned now. After the great battle in the Vale of Rushes,[3] where Abdurrahman defeated the kings of Navarre and Leon, one of the two fighting bishops, who were taken prisoners on that occasion, gave, as a hostage for his own release, a youth of fourteen, named Pelagius. The king, it is said, smitten with his beauty, wished to work his abominable will upon the boy, but his advances being rejected with disdain, the unhappy youth was put to death with great barbarity, refusing to save his life by apostasy.[4] A different version of the story is given by a Saxon nun of Gaudersheim, named Hroswitha, who wrote a poem on the subject fifty years later. She tells us that the king tried to kiss Pelagius, who thereupon struck him in the face, and was in consequence put to death by decapitation (June 26, 925).[5]

In the death of Argentea (Ap. 28, 931) we have the last instance in Spain of a Christian seeking martyrdom. She was the daughter of the great rebel Omar ibn Hafsun,[1] and his wife Columba, and was born at that chieftain's stronghold of Bobastro. Upon her mother's death Omar wished her to take up her mother's duties in the palace, for Omar had become a sort of king on his own domain. She declined, asking only for a quiet retreat, where she might prepare her soul for martyrdom; and she wrote to a devout Christian, whose wishes inclined him in the same direction, suggesting that they should seek the crown of martyrdom together.[2] On the destruction of Bobastro by Abdurrahman in 928, she went to Cordova.[3] She there met with a Gaul named Vulfura, who had been warned in a dream that in that city he should find a virgin, with whom he was to suffer martyrdom. However, his object becoming known, Vulfura is cast into prison by the governor of the city. Argentea goes to visit him there, and is stopped by the guards, who, finding she is a Christian, take her before the judge as a renegade, and she is imprisoned with Vulfura. The alternative of Islam instead of death being refused, they are both executed, but Argentea, as being an "insolens rebellis," is first scourged with 1000 stripes, and her tongue cut out. Her body was buried at the church of the three saints.

In the year 934[4] we hear of two hundred monks of Cardena being massacred by the Berbers in Abdurrahman's army; and in some sense they can be regarded as martyrs to their faith.

In 953 a martyr named Eugenia is said to have perished;[1] and thirty years later, the last martyrs of whom we have any record under the Arab rule. Dominicus Sarracinus, son of John, and his companions taken prisoners at the capture of Simancas, were kept for two years and a-half in prison.[2] They were then brought out and put to death, just when Ramiro III., or his successor, had sent to ransom them.[3]

There is no evidence whatever to show that there was a persecution of the Christians under the great Abdurrahman, and the statements of those writers who intimate the contrary may be set aside as unsupported by evidence.[4]

We will now turn back and take a general view of the Christian Church and its condition under the Arabs in Spain, especially—for our information is greatest as to those periods—under the two kings Abdurrahman II. and III.

Under the former of these sovereigns the condition of the Christians, until the persecution, which they themselves provoked, began, was very tolerable, and the majority of the Christians were quite content with their lot. They served in the army, both free men and slaves; they held lucrative posts at Court, or in the houses of the Arab nobles, or as government officials. But though the lay community was well off, the clergy and stricter churchmen had something to complain of; for the Church[5] could not be said to be free, though the worship was, since the power of summoning councils had now passed to the Arab executive, who, as we have seen, made even Moslems and Jews sit at these councils. Sees were also put up to auction, and the scandalous spectacle was not unknown, of atheists and heretics holding the titles, and drawing the emoluments, of bishops.[6]

As was to be expected, Arabic soon began to displace Latin throughout the country, and even before the ninth century the Scriptures were translated into the tongue of the conquerors [1] by Odoarius, Bishop of Accita, and John of Seville. Hischem I. (788-796) forbade the use of any language but Arabic, so that his Christian subjects had to use Arabic Gospels;[2] and the Spaniards were soon not even permitted to write in Latin.[3] Even if this statement be doubtful, we know that Latin came gradually to be neglected and forgotten. Alvar utters an eloquent protest against this: "Alas, the Christians are ignorant of their own tongue, and Latins neglect their language, so that in all the College of Christ[4] there is scarcely to be found one who can write an address of welcome to his brother intelligibly in Latin, while numbers can be found competent to mouth the flowery rhetoric of the Chaldeans."[5] In the department of poetry—the peculiar boast of the Arabs—the Christians seem even to have surpassed their masters; and to the rivalry of the two nations in this art we may attribute the excellence and abundance of native ballads of which Spain can boast.

We have seen how Eulogius did his best to check this neglect of Latin, by introducing into Spain some of the masterpieces in that language; but it is doubtful whether his efforts had much result. We can see from the remains of the Spanish writers which we possess that the structure of that language had considerably degenerated in Spain.[6]

Some sentences are so ungrammatical as to be scarcely intelligible. Moreover, we find Samson[1] directly accusing Hostegesis, Bishop of Malaga, of not being able to write Latin; and similarly Jonas of Orleans (839) accusing Claudius, Bishop of Turin, who was himself a Spaniard, of the same defect.

The neglect of Latin was accompanied by an increasing indifference to the doctrinal basis of Christianity, educated Christians being led to devote their time, which might have been more profitably spent on their own Scriptures, to becoming acquainted with the Mohammedan religion, and even to unravelling the intricacies of the controversial theology which had grown up round, and overlaid, the original simplicity of the Koran.[2] The great Fathers of the Church were laid aside unread, and even the Prophets and Apostles, and the Gospel itself, found few to study them. While the higher classes were indifferent to religion, the lower were sunk in poverty[3] and ignorance.[4] The inevitable result of this indifference, ignorance, and poverty, was a visible deterioration in the character of Spanish Christianity, of which there are only too many proofs.

We find the abbot Samson distinctly accusing Hostegesis, Bishop of Malaga, of simony, asserting that he sold the priesthood to low and unworthy people;[1] while Alvar charges Saul, Bishop of Cordova, with obtaining his bishopric by bribery.[2] Other irregularities imputed to Hostegesis were that he held his see from his twentieth year, contrary to the canons of the church, and that he beat priests, in order to extort money from them, till they died under his hands.

Besides the election to the priesthood, by unworthy means, of unworthy men, whose ignorance and impudence the congregation had to endure in silence,[3] many were informally ordained without vouchers for character being given, or the assent of their fellow-clergy and flocks being obtained.[4] Many churches presented the unseemly spectacle of two rival pastors, contrary to the ordinances received from the Fathers.[5]

Changes, too, were made in doctrine and ritual, for which no authority could be alleged, in contravention of established custom and the teaching of the Church. So far was this carried that Samson was accused by his opponents of being a heretic and an idolator because he permitted the marriage of cousins; dissented from the view that God was ever enclosed in the chambers of the Virgin's heart;[6] asserted the omnipresence of God, even in idols and the Devil, and this in an actual, not a metaphysical, sense;[7] and denied that God sat upon an exalted throne above his creatures. From this it is clear that Hostegesis and those who thought with him[8] were infected with the anthropomorphite heresy.

Not only did many of the clergy hold heretical views, but their depravity was notorious. Hostegesis did not blush to spend the produce of the church tithes and offerings, which he had with difficulty extorted from his flock,[1] in bribing the court officials and the king's sons, giving them feasts at which open and flagrant vice was indulged in.[2] The clergy were not above pretending illness in order to avoid paying the monthly tax to their Moslem rulers.[3] Some, even in the highest positions in the Church, denied their Saviour and apostatized to the Moslems; one of these renegades being Samuel, Bishop of Elvira, the uncle of Hostegesis' mother, who, with a pervert's zeal, persecuted the Church he had deserted, imprisoning the clergy, taxing his former flock, and even forcing some to embrace Islam.[4]

It is not surprising, therefore, that bishops and clergy were sometimes deposed. Samson, indeed, underwent this disgrace at the hands of a hostile faction under Hostegesis, on the ground of his pretended heresy; and, similarly, Valentius,[5] Bishop of Cordova, was deprived of his see because he was a supporter of Samson. But these instances reflect more discredit on the deposers than on their victims. Instances of deposition are not wanting, in the free states the North. Sisenandus, seventh Bishop of Compostella (940), was deposed by King Sancho for dissolute living, and malversation of Church moneys.[6] On the king's death he recovered his see, driving out his successor. Pelayo, another bishop of Compostella, suffered the same punishment.[7]