The Road to Santiago: Pilgrims of St. James

Theodomir, the Bishop of Iria Flavia, he at once recognized the hand of God and advised them to hold three days of prayer and fasting. Then under the guidance of the hermits and the shepherds, workmen invaded the wooded hill and after clearing away the undergrowth they came across a small shrine. Beneath the arch was an altar and at its foot a sarcophagus. A miniature in the venerable Codex, preserved in the cathedral of Santiago and known as tumbo A, naively portrays the scene. We see the bishop Theodomir enter the shrine, while an angel descends from above and sheds incense over him. Theodomir, by divine revelation after much fasting and prayer or, as the tradition goes, by the discovery of a piece of parchment or papyrus near the body in the sarcophagus, convinced himself that there lay the body of Santiago, Son of Zebedee and Salome, brother of Saint John, whom Herod beheaded in Jerusalem. * The word of Theodomir was sufficient, and soon the news spread far and wide. First of all he announced the glad tidings to King Alfonso II, ‘the Chaste’, and he with the nobles of his court set out from Oviedo for Galicia.
    Alfonso realized the full significance of the discovery. Now that Spain possessed the body of the Apostle the Christians would win because Santiago would inspire the holy war and give them faith to triumph over the Moslems, who drew their moral strength from the relics of the Prophet in the Mosque at Córdoba. Alfonso himself proclaimed the Apostle to be the Patron Saint of all Spain—the Spain that was already liberated, and that which still remained to be won ^ from the Infidel. He forthwith proceeded to build a church over the spot where the tomb has been discovered. It was a humble church made of stones and mud ( ex petra et luto opere parvo ) but soon its fame grew, owing to the number of miracles which took place. And these miracles, add the chroniclers, dissipated any doubts that might have existed among the disbelievers. Beside the church the king built a baptistry consecrated to St. John the Baptist and nearby another church with three altars, one dedicated to the Saviour, and the other two to the Apostles, St. Peter and St. John. In addition, he built a monastery and cloister for an Abbot and twelve monks, and he surrounded the town with a strong wall, so that the inhabitants could resist the raids of the Moslems. The city was given the name Compo-stella or starry field (from Campus stellae ), in order to perpetuate the miracle of its discovery.

THE MOOR-SLAYER

    The discovery of the relics of St. James caused a sensation, not only throughout western Christendom but also throughout Islam. It brought consolation and hope to Europe that the triumphant progress

    of Mohammedanism would be checked. Nowadays when we try to explain the rise to power of certain races and the decline of others, we think of material improvements in warfare. We think of advances such as those from slings and bows and arrows to cannons and muskets and so on to our own day with its aeroplanes, poison gases and atomic bombs. We are however, apt to underestimate the power of emotional or spiritual influence, and for this reason it is difficult for us to appreciate the enormous effect that the discovery in Galicia of the bones of St. James had upon the people of the ninth century. It was as if they had been spirited into a world of radiant sunlight, and they girded themselves for action under the inspiration of the new emotion which enraptured their soul. They moved with exhilaration and strength, for they feared nothing, neither defeat nor death.
    Alfonso II had communicated the news of the discovery to Pope Leo III and to Charlemagne the Emperor, with the result that pilgrims began to flock into North Spain. Even the Moslems came to have news of the Apostle and we find references to Compostella in Moorish authors, as for instance, in the Andalusian poet from Jaén, Algacel, who accompanied a Norman delegation there in 850.
    The first great miracle performed by St. James after his long sleep of eight hundred years took place during the reign of Ramiro I in 845 at that legendary Battle of Clavijo, near Nájera. The cause of the battle was the shameful tribute of a hundred maidens, which, according to a pact made previously by the Asturian king, Mauregato, with the Emir of Córdoba, the Christians were obliged to hand over every year. When Abderrahman II exacted the tribute, Ramiro, after consulting with his advisers,