Chapter 2 St James´Rooster

“Feudal Galicia, hmm . . . What do you know about

Diego Gelmirez?”

Peter Callaghan was sitting upon the desk, not behind it, and that at least gave Laura some measure of confidence. But the question invited a huge discursion. So many things. Where to start?

They were in the old university beside the Market. The building alone intimidated Laura but she knew she had to get over it. Here for a year or more was to be her home, despite her paucity of Spanish, and even though she was taking classes in Gallego, she knew that she was very much the

outsider here. Peter, despite his Irish background, spoke both fluently, and
Portuguese too. Laura had not even passed the point where she could tell
where Portuguese ended and Gallego began, excepting that the latter had
a softer sound. Not that that matters when you can’t really understand
either very well.

This discussion luckily was in English, thank God.

“Well, I know that he was not born into the aristocracy, that his father
was Gelmirio, which is where he gets his patronymic, and that Gelmirio
was the administrator of the castle of Torres del Rio, just south of Padron
where the legends state that St. James was brought ashore.”
Laura looked at her advisor for encouragement but found none. Callaghan’s
work was one of the main reasons she had made this decision: to come
back to Santiago and add a Ph.D. to a list of already impressive credentials.
Some of her advisors were impressed with her knowledge. But clearly Dr.
Callaghan was not amongst them. She had read some of his books: Feudal
Galicia was his best known. She realised that what she had said, in hope
of some sort of encouragement, was not enough. Obviously more was
expected. The silence was too long.
“Um . . . I know that he was educated at the school near the cathedral,
or . . . was it a just a church then?”
A non-committal nod prompted her to go on.
“I believe he then went on to finish his education at the court of the king
in Leon . . . Alfonso VI?”
“Mmhm.”
“And then he returned to Santiago. The king’s son-in-law, Raymond chose
him to be his secretary in, I think, about 1093 or so.”
Laura looked around the office. There was a window overlooking the
valley of the River Sar in the distance
she could see the Seminario Mayor on the other side of the valley: now a
pilgrims’ hospice. The group had stayed there last year for a while. Felix
had proposed to Laura on the front steps late one chilly autumn evening,
and she had accepted without giving it a second thought. It had seemed as
though their meeting on the Camino was meant to be.
“Who was Raymond?” He brought her back to the discussion at hand.
“He was related to Constance of Burgundy who became Alfonso’s queen.
Alfonso rewarded him with a sort of “dukeship” of Galicia. Anyway he
was very powerful in the north west of Alfonso’s kingdom and somehow
Diego Gelmirez seemed the right man for the job, first as secretary then
as bishop of Compostela.
“Diego Gelmirez,” mused her tutor. “Now this is the man we have to talk
about, I think.” The Irish brogue came out. But not the Irish smile she
had hoped for.
Laura was losing her nerve. Diego Gelmirez. What she was saying sounded
so basic. Her tutor had seemed very approachable around her dinner table
last night and now she just felt a bit of a fool. She wished he would give
her some sort of feedback. Instead he said:
“Go on.”

“Well, Alfonso knew of Bishop Diego Peláez, of course, because the bishop

was consecrated by his brother, Sancho. But Alfonso overthrew Sancho
because he wanted to become lord of Galicia as well as Castilla and Leon.
He, Diego, that is . . .”
“Which Diego?”
You know bloody well which Diego, she thought, but added:
“Diego Peláez was the bishop of Compostela from about 1075 through to
1088. He began the cathedral. Lots of people think it was Diego Gelmirez
who built it . . .” She caught Callaghan’s eye for interruption, but it didn’t
come, “but it wasn’t. He only picked up where Diego Peláez left off, and
many years after. The first Diego was accused of treason and thrown into
prison. The Historia Compostelana doesn’t say much about him, but they
do hint that there may have been some sort of plot along with Count
Diego Ovéquiez to hand Galicia over to the Normans.”
“Anyone in particular?”
Laura was feeling faint. It was said that Diego Peláez wanted to treat with
the Normans. She knew that the evidence of Diego Peláez so-called treason
was slim, but she also knew that she only had the Historia Compostelana
to draw upon and she said as much.
“Why would a Spanish bishop want to treat with the Normans?”
She knew she was on shaky ground. There was even a story that a daughter
of William the Conqueror may have once been betrothed to the Spanish
king Alfonso the Sixth; even that she may have had some sort of prior
understanding with his brother Sancho, or even Garcia the youngest
who was once King of Galicia, but later Garcia had fled his country and
taken refuge in Sevilla which was under Moorish occupation. When he
tried to make peace with his brother Alfonso, the latter had him arrested

and he spent the rest of his days locked up in one of Alfonso’s castles.

Sancho was murdered probably on the king’s orders. It all made no sense,
especially as the daughter had died en route to her marriage with Alfonso
the brother . . . what was her name? How could this have affected the fate
of Galicia? She didn’t know and the only thing to do was admit as much.
“I don’t know,” she said meekly.
“No-one knows,” said Peter Callaghan, “but it’s a grand story don’t you
think?”
Somehow Laura didn’t know if she had triumphed or failed.

Laura looked around at the office and its cedar panelling. It was clearly

of the 18th century and lined with books. But how many belonged to
her tutor? She thought probably not many but that didn’t decrease the
intimidation factor.

“The problem is Lara . . .”

“Laura.”
“The problem, Laura, is that we have a lot of information about Diego
Gelmirez but it’s all from the Historia Compostelana which was his “spin”
if you like. He commissioned it. There are three possible authors. But
when it comes right down to it, they wrote it to glorify Diego Gelmirez
and the things he did, which were not insubstantial by any means. Laura,
the man was a monster, but he was a genial monster with a shrine to
protect and a city to build, and in that he was bloody good at his job.
Once you start to research him further, you may have the same grudging
respect for him as I do.
“We have an appointment tomorrow afternoon, am I right?”
“Yes,” said Laura wondering what time was the first flight back to Bristol
from Lavacolla, Santiago’s airport.

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Back to the Future: Part Seven...

And now we are almost back to where we left off before the holidays and ready to take a good long look at Feudal Galicia in the days of Diego Gelmirez, the man who put the Santiago into Santiago de Compostela.

Diego was not born into the nobility; indeed we might say he grew up on the periphery of it. His father, Gelmirio, was a devoted servant to Bishop Diego Pelaez who administered the Torres del Oeste, the strategic fortress on the River Ulla closer to Padron (Iria Flavia).

The future archbishop of Santiago de Compostela would have witnessed many important comings and goings, perhaps some royal. Certainly he received the patronage of Diego Pelaez the bishop who made sure that the young Diego received his education at the cathedral school in Compostela. Afterwards, Diego spent time at the court of Alfonso VI, the king. He clearly was a master of watching and learning.

After Diego Pelaez was arrested for treason there was a vacancy at Compostela. Not that Diego was ready for the bishopric by any means but he made himself so useful that he was awarded the "Honor" and became the administrator of the church funds from its landed holdings, most of which went into the royal pocket while the diocese was without a bishop.

Two interim bishops came and went very quickly and Diego was back holding the purse strings. In the meantime, Diego Pelaez was still petitioning the Pope to obtain back his see, with very little success. (He was to die in exile in 1104)

Upon the death of Urban II (who was a monk of Cluny about which I shall shortly be writing) and the election of a new pope, Pascal II (also Cluniac) the influence of France was creeping on noisy feet across Spain. Diego Gelmirez loved all things French having learned that being a Francophile at the court of Alfonso (and his Burgundian queen) was the way to preferment. At the turn of the 12th century he visited Rome and returned with directions to the Canons of Compostela that he was a worthy candidate for Holy Orders.

Within a very short time, and "unanimously", Diego is put forward as the choice for the new and long needed bishop.

And so the story continues...
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Part Six...

According to the Historia Compostelana, Diego Pelaez was consecrated by Sancho II who was the King of Galicia at the time. The HC is notoriously self-serving and says very little about this, perhaps because Diego Gelmirez patron was Alfonso VI, not Sancho who was murdered not long after Diego Pelaez became, probably - though he took an oath to deny it - on the orders of Alfonso, his brother.

We know very little about Diego Pelaez. The authors of the HC managed to skirt very diplomatically around the subject. Perhaps that was because Diego Gelmirez, who was to follow Pelaez as bishop, knew more about the fate of his colleague in the church than was good for him. Conjecture? One certainly would question why Diego Gelmirez was so reluctant to travel anywhere near Aragon where Pelaez sought refuge in his later years, and after a lengthy imprisonment.

Diego Pelaez had been arrested and imprisoned by Alfonso VI (his brothers being conveniently removed by this time) on charges of treason. Perhaps he and the nobles whom he supported were endeavouring to re-instate King Garcia who was kicking his heels with the Moors in Sevilla at the time. There is even a story – suggested by the HC – that Pelaez et al planned to hand Galicia over to William of Normandy , lock stock and barrel and amazingly there may be some fire to this smoke!

Whatever the story, Pelaez was brought to trial in chains and stripped of his see and for 15 years afterwards, the bishopric of Compostela – with two very short exceptions – remained without a bishop while King and Pope laboured to end a disagreement.

The time was right for Diego Gelmirez to follow his ambitions. He became “Vicarius” of Compostela, administering the church’s property and income while he waited for the right time to remind the Pope that his flock in Compostela had no shepherd.
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The Making of a Bishop...

We do not know when Diego Gelmirez was born. We don't even know where. But it was quite likely at the Torres del Oeste, the formidable fortress towers administered by his father, Gelmirio, in the service of Bishop Diego Pelaez whom we have already met. His date of birth was also most likely sometime during the 1060's.

Diego's father was greatly trusted by Diego Pelaez. The geographical area he governed on the River Ulla was particularly important strategically being vulnerable to periodic Viking and Norman raids.(During July every year there is a re-enactment of one of these at the site of the Torres which still exist.) Gelmirio, though likely of no great social rank, was considered by all as a "rising man" and young Diego most likely witnessed many comings and goings of the high and the mightly. Perhaps this fuelled his young ambition to rise higher than his father.

Diego attended the Cathedral school at Compostela and it seems he was destined for an ecclesiastical career from very early on. After his schooling, in which he was given a good grounding in church matters, the scriptures, and the law, he spent some time at the royal court, most likely during his late teens. Here, travelling with the royal retinue, young Diego had the perfect chance to watch, listen, and learn and to ingratiate himself into the company of those who may at some point be able to give him a leg up the ladder of preferment.

Sometime before 1085, Diego Gelmirez was back in the household of Bishop Diego Pelaez where we can be sure his listening skills were put to great advantage. What he did with what he learned one can only guess.

What is clear, however, is that Diego survived his patron's downfall and disgracein 1087. Perhaps he saw his career at stake and fought hard to secure it. Maybe as Fletcher suggests, he "...may not have been able to keep his hands clean". Diego, as you will learn, had a habit of coming up smelling of roses no matter what he did. Certainly his extreme reluctance in later years not to travel through the Kingdom of Aragon where Diego Pelaez was living in exile certainly makes us wonder if Diego Gelmirez had a guilty conscience...?
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After Diego Pelaez...

Alfonso couldn't allow Galicia to remain without a bishop, that was for sure, and so he appointed Pedro of Cardena to fill the vacant post. Trouble was this was not exactly his job...that is to say the Pope knew nothing about it. This was simply Not Good.

Once he found out (the Pope at the time was Urban II) Alfonso's choice was outright rejected and we can be sure that letters had been flying back and forth from Diego Pelaez and the Vatican at this time also (Diego Pelaez had found refuge at the court of the King of Aragon, not exactly a friend to Alfonso VI). Pope Urban rejected outright the deposition of Diego Pelaez and chastised Alfonso most resoundedly for having the gall to remove, seize, and imprison a bishop. Alfonso was forthwith instructed to reinstate Diego and no backchat! Urban then backed up his demands with a letter to the clergy and people of Compostela which said: "We forbid you to accept or obey this upstart so-called bishop, Pedro," or something more ecclesiastical and Latin to that effect, and poor Pedro, who likely had had little choice but to obey his king, was summoned to Rome toute de suite!

In the meantime, Alfonso himself had other problems to consider. For one thing he was surrounded by the Moors on virtually all sides; for another, his Queen, Constance, had produced the Infanta Urraca, but so far there was no male heir. And everyone around him was very aware of it. He was obliged to hold on to what he had so far gained and turn a blind (though watchful) eye to Galicia for the time being.

In Compostela, the building of the cathedral came to a grinding halt, and in the words of historian Bernard Reilly, it was: "scarcely more than a handful of piers, melancholy and silent in the winter rains of the northwest".

Never had Galicia needed a champion more.
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The bishop rebels...

By 1080, the Roman Liturgy was beginning to replace the old Mozarabic (Visigothic) rite. The influence of the Order of Cluny was starting to change the way that people in Galicia would worship from henceforth. And not all welcomed this change.

We are not sure if Bishop Diego Pelaez was one of these, but there can be no doubt that he would have felt the winds blowing from France. King Alfonso VI made Constance of Burgundy his queen, and as often happens, this seemed to involve importing a few relatives as well.

Up to this point, Toledo had been the capital of the old Visigothic kingdom for many hundreds of years. By the late 11th century it was still in Moorish hands, but this was all to change. Alfonso captured Toledo, making Bernardo, a Frenchman, its archbishop. Perhaps Diego Pelaez felt that Galicia was to slip into the backwaters with the new changes with the shrine of St. James assuming less and less importance.

The Infanta Urraca, Alfonso and Constance's only issue, was promised to Raymond, also of France. In the absence of male heirs, this meant that Raymond, a foreigner, would become king.

Perhaps it was all too much got the independent Galicians to bear. This increasing hegemony threatened a vanishing way of life. Before Galicia had been effectively cut off from the rest of the kingdom, yet retained its autonomy, even its king, in this case the imprisoned Garcia. Now, although the pilgrim road had opened Compostela up to the world, instead of achieving its rightful place as the Spanish rival to Rome, it was slipping behind the newly captured Toledo.

In 1087 Count Rodrigo Ovéquez led a rebellious force into Lugo, capturing the city, and his accomplice, it would seem, was none other than our own Diego Pelaez, Bishop of Compostela.

Of course, it was doomed from the start, a daring plan simply destined for failure.

Thirty years later, whilst Diego Gelmirez was archbishop, one of his clerics wrote that charges against Diego Pelaez had been that he had sought the assistance of William of Normandy, "The Conqueror" of England, and although it was not stated, it is impossible not to add: perhaps to free Garcia and re-establish him as the King of Galicia.

This is not as far fetched as it may sound. No less than three of William's daughters had been suggested as marriage partners for the three brothers. Prior to his bethrothal to Constance, Alfonso was to marry Agatha, but she died on route to her bridegroom. Another daughter, one Alberta, was mentioned in connection with Sancho, and may even have married him. What is interesting is that her name (William had a lot of daughters) also comes up in connection with Garcia, the youngest, the dispossessed king of Galicia. Was there some rivalry between the two brothers which history has swallowed up? A romance lost and forgotten? We will never know.

The rebellion lasted for two years. As it was it was all to come to naught. William died unexpectedly when a riding accident threw him onto the pommel of his horse. The ringleaders of the rebellion, including Diego Pelaez, were rounded up and thrown into prison.

The Historia Compostelana tells us that Diego Pelaez was brought in front of his accusers in chains. He was forced to declare himself unworthy of his office, to surrender his pastoral ring and staff. Much later he was banished, exiled, and he spent the rest of his days in Aragon at the court of Pedro who was no friend to Alfonso, and subsequently none to Diego Gelmirez either. But I am getting ahead of my story.

Building on the cathedral stopped. Maestro Esteban followed Diego Pelaez east and began to work on a new cathedral to be built at Pamplona. The masons dispersed. An angered pope tried to re-instate his bishop who meanwhile languished in the dungeons, but with no success. And the bishopric stayed empty for 12 whole years while Diego Gelmirez, moving his way up through the ranks, was happy to bide his time.
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Diego Pelaez...

Ask most people connected with the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela and they will say that it was the child of the first archbishop, Diego Gelmirez, and in many ways this was so. What you may not be told, however, is that it was Gelmirez’ predecessor, Diego Pelaez, who first conceived of enlarging the basilica, nor that the first architect was one Maestro Esteban, most likely a Frenchman.

If we know little enough about Priscillian of Avila, we know even less about Diego Pelaez. We don’t know when he was born, nor where. It seems likely that he was a native of Galicia, but Pelaez (of the family of Pelayo) was a common enough name and crops up quite a bit in connection with the Camino both in Galicia and Asturias. We are told by the authors of the Historia Compostelana (of which you are going to learn a lot more in the weeks to come) that Diego Pelaez was consecrated by Sancho II. While this is possible, subsequent events were to make it more likely that Pelaez had enjoyed the patronage of Garcia of Galicia, and bishops in those days were kings’ men through and through. Besides, the Historia Compostelana is not known for its…um…accuracy.

Be that as it may, by the time that the groundbreaking began (with the old church still inside), Sancho had been dead for 3 years, at the hands of his brother Alfonso. Garcia, having made the mistake of seeking a truce with his brother, was languishing in prison as an unwilling guest in the Castillo de Luna in the mountains above the Rio Orbigo. Diego Pelaez, in his untouchable position as bishop, was perhaps enjoying the relative isolation of his see at Compostela.

The new church was to be constructed in the French “Romanesque” style. With a Latin cross form, three naves and a ground area of 8,300 square meters, this was to be far, far grander than any of the churches of St. James before. An increasing number of merchants and artisans were settling along the pilgrimage route. The work progressed under the watchful eyes of not only Maestro Esteban, but also two master masons known as Bernard and Robert. At least 50 men were employed upon the building during the time of Diego Pelaez.

In some ways, the eventual fate of the church at Compostela was a victim of its own success. Compostela (it had been known by this name since 1056) became more and more “European”. The see had already been moved from Iria Flavia by that time. Prior to this, Galicia had in many ways been cut off: politically and especially geographically. Bishop Cresconio, Pelaez forerunner of long tenure, had had more to worry about with Norman and Viking invasions than incursions from rival kings. For this he had fortified the coastal areas and in particular (for our story as you will see) built a castle at Torres del Oeste near Iria. During Diego Pelaez’ time as bishop, this as occupied by his seigneur, Gelmirio who had several sons, one of which, Diego, is to rise to almost unapproachable power as the first archbishop of “Santiago de Compostela”.
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