Benhoud had been often vanquished, but always retained the affections of a people who regarded him as their last support. He had again collected an army, and, though possessed with an equally earnest desire to relieve both Cordova and Valencia, was about to march towards the latter, from a belief that he was most likely to be there successful, when his life was treacherously terminated by one of his lieutenants. The Catholic kings were by this means delivered from the opposition of the only man who was capable of impeding the accomplishment of their wishes. The death of Benhoud deprived the inhabitants of Cordova of all courage and hope. Until then they had defended themselves with {115} equal courage and constancy; but they offered to capitulate upon receiving intelligence of this disastrous event.[9] The Christians made the most rigorous use of their victory, granting only life and liberty of departure to the unfortunate disciples of the Prophet. An innumerable host of these wretched people came forth from their former homes, weeping, and despoiled of all their possessions. Slowly they left the superb city which had been for more than five hundred and twenty years the principal seat of their national greatness, their luxurious magnificence, their cherished religion, and their favourite literature and fine arts. Often did these desolate exiles pause on their way, and turn their despairing eyes once again towards the towering palaces, the splendid temples, the beautiful gardens, that five centuries of lavish expense and toilsome effort had served to adorn and perfect, only to become the spoil of the enemies of their faith and their race. The Catholic soldiers who were now the occupants of these enchanting abodes, were so far from appreciating their loveliness and value, {116} that they preferred rather to destroy than inhabit them; and Ferdinand soon found himself the possessor of a deserted city. He was therefore compelled to attract inhabitants to Cordova from other parts of his dominions, by the offer of extraordinary immunities. But, notwithstanding the privileges thus accorded them, the Spaniards murmured at leaving their arid rocks and barren fields, to dwell in the palaces of caliphs and amid nature's most luxuriant scenes. The grand mosque of Abderamus was converted into a cathedral, and Cordova became the residence of a bishop and canons, but it was never restored to the faintest shadow of its former splendour.