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