[192] 'Spain knows nothing of papal decisions.' The speaker was bishop Arnulf of Orléans at the synod of Rheims in 991, and we may take it that this was the view of well-informed churchmen in northern France in the last decade of the tenth century.⁽¹⁾ Something over a hundred years later pope Calixtus II was held to have declared that he had loved Santiago from his childhood and had spent fourteen years wandering in foreign lands, enduring robbery, imprisonment and shipwreck in search of legends about him.⁽²⁾ The first statement has been wrenched from its context. As to the second, it is doubtful whether a historian could now be found to defend the proposition that the letter given in the name of pope Calixtus which prefaces the collection usually (if incorrectly) known as the Liber Sancti Jacobi or Codex Calixtinus contains sentiments which might with any remote degree of plausibility be attributed to that pope. Nevertheless, the contrast revealed by these statements embodies an important historical truth. In the late tenth and early eleventh century the churchmen of Galicia had no dealings with the popes; but by the time of Calixtus II's pontificate (1119-24) they did. Diego Gelmírez played a significant part in bringing about this transformation. The amount of space devoted in the Historia Compostellana to his dealings with the papal curia is an indication of how important he thought those dealings were. They constitute the subject of the present chapter.⁽³⁾

[193] We have already glanced in an earlier chapter at the beginnings of relations between the papal curia and the churchmen of north-western Spain. We have seen that a papal legate may have visited Compostela about the time of Diego Gelmírez's infancy; that bishop Diego Peláez was deposed at a church council presided over by another legate; that he subsequently tried and failed to be reinstated with the help of papal authority; that bishop Dalmatius and some of his colleagues attended the council of Clermont in 1095. We have also seen how it was in some sense as 'the pope's man' that Diego Gelmírez got his bishopric in 1100 -- remembering always that he was other men's man as well; not least, his own. The young Diego would have taken note of these developments in the 1080s and 1090s. He would also have observed other, related changes. In his childhood and youth two successive pontiffs, Alexander II and Gregory VII, had succeeded in imposing a change of liturgy upon the churches of Aragon, Navarre and León-Castile. Two monks of Cluny had successively been charged with the abbacy of the great royal monastery of Sahagún. The second of them, Bernardo, had in 1083 acquired from Gregory VII the privilege of freedom 'from the yoke of every ecclesiastical or secular power' saving only subjection to the apostolic see of Rome. The same man had soon afterwards been promoted to the archbishopric of Toledo and had received from Gregory's successor Urban II in 1088 the privilege of primacy over all the Spanish churches. Not long afterwards, probably early in 1091, bishop Pedro of Braga had sought and obtained the restoration of the metropolitan status of his see; and here we should remember that the bishoprics of Galicia were in the province of Braga. As it so happened, the pope to whom Pedro had turned was not the rightful one but the imperial antipope Clement III. However, Pedro's successor Geraldo, a protégé of the archbishop of Toledo, was only a few years later (1099 or 1100) to acquire the same concession from the rightful pope, Paschal II.

Many historians have believed that during this period the [194] papacy pursued a deliberate policy designed to increase its influence in areas of Christendom hitherto immune from it. Politically speaking, it is held, this was the essence of the Gregorian or Hildebrandine reform. Thus the extension of the papal reach in Spain was part and parcel of one grand design whose working out may also be seen in the British Isles, in Scandinavia, in eastern Europe and in the crusading states of Outremer. This interpretation is the work of German scholars or of those who have come under the influence of German historical scholarship; many of them principally concerned with the development of canon law. It is a historians' and lawyers' gloss upon the records of a multitudinous sea of decisions and transactions of the greatest possible diversity, spread over many years, effected by many different people in many different places moved by purposes so various as to confound the understanding. Such a gloss or construct is in itself an heroic achievement. But it is bound to over-simplify, and over-simplification of so complex a set of circumstances can lead to grave misapprehension. The historians trained in the tradition alluded to have alarmingly neat notions about the processes they study. 'Qui dit découverte, dit surprise, et dissemblance', wrote Marc Bloch. But the foggy Anglo-Saxon mind can comfort itself with no such encouraging reflections. We are invited to detect in the ecclesiastical reform movement of this period clarity of vision, consistency of principle, continuity of direction, regularity of routine and the smooth functioning of sleek institutional gadgetry. Would that it were so easy. But the medieval papacy was an institution all too human, and its workings display all the muddle that we associate with human affairs. The closer you look at the papal wood, the more obstinately does it remain just a lot of trees.

It is true that certain churchmen, most notably Gregory VII himself, had a vision of a society organized on Christian lines whose divine directing power should be mediated through the bishop of Rome as successor to St. Peter and Vicar of Christ. This was impossible of realization, a fact which even Gregory was compelled to acknowledge in the course of his disastrous pontificate. Those who had a will [195] to it -- there were never very many of them -- lacked the means; the time, the men, the skills, the resources. It was a bold vision, and it still retains the power to move and to excite. Yet it is unfortunate that Gregory VII's name should have become attached to this epoch in the history of the church. Did the clergy of north-western Spain think of themselves as living in 'the Gregorian age'? How did they look upon the papacy? Some answer to this question will, it is hoped, emerge in the pages that follow. It is necessary here, however, to make one last preliminary point. Papal government during this period was on the whole something passive; acted upon rather than acting. There is plentiful evidence to suggest that matters presented themselves in this light to most of the higher clergy of western Christendom, including those of Spain. They were not given to thinking in abstractions about 'the papacy'. The case was rather that the popes commanded an arsenal of weapons which they might be brought to share with those who had need of them, who asked for them and who (not least) could pay for them. A canny man in an unfriendly world will avail himself of this arsenal; will grasp by fair means or foul the weapons which might be useful in offence or defence. For a bishop of Compostela, then, what are the sources of unfriendliness? The unsurprising answer rings back loud and clear from the pages of the Historia Compostellana: his neighbours. That meant above all others the churchmen of Toledo and Braga. If we ask what they could do to Diego Gelmírez, the answer takes us to the heart of his concerns. They could dim the lustre of St. James. That mattered very much. A bishop of Compostela who let it happen would be betraying a sacred trust. Protection, then, in the sense of special, privileged arrangements, was what the churchmen of Compostela sought from the popes in the first instance. From that impulse much was to follow.

Bishop Dalmatius was the trail-blazer. One of the fruits of his journey to Clermont in 1095 was the papal privilege Et decretorum synodalium.⁽⁴⁾ This contained two important provisions. The first was a confirmation of the transfer of [196] the seat of the bishopric from Iria to Santiago de Compostela. The second was the concession to bishop Dalmatius

that both you and your successors hereafter shall be subject to none except the metropolitan bishop of Rome; and that all those who come after you in that see shall be consecrated by the hand of the pope, as special suffragans of the see of Rome.

The privileges gained in 1095 and confirmed in 1101 were not enough for Diego. He wanted more. Above all he wanted the see of Compostela to be raised to metropolitan rank, 'so that the church of St. James might glitter with the honour it deserved', as the Historia put it. His argument was simply that every church in Christendom where an apostle's body was held to repose enjoyed the status of an archbishopric at the least -- except the church of Santiago de Compostela.⁽⁷⁾ We need look for no more complex reasoning than this. Precisely when this ambition took shape it is not easy to say. It may have originated with bishop Dalmatius, or even earlier in the days of bishop Diego Peláez. Diego Gelmírez certainly held it by 1104, for it was the principal motive for his second visit to Rome which he paid in that year.⁽⁸⁾ In 1104 he drew a blank. Paschal II was sympathetic but unyielding, and [197] fobbed Diego off with the grant of the right to wear a pallium on certain solemn occasions of the liturgical year.⁽⁹⁾ Since by this date the pallium was normally worn only by metropolitans this must have been regarded by Diego as a step in the right direction, albeit a short one. Nearly six years passed before he made another attempt. A papal letter which probably belongs to the spring of 1110 refers cryptically to a request made by Diego's envoys on their master's behalf and announced they will be able to explain why it was that it could not be granted.⁽¹⁰⁾ These were the opening moves in what Diego must have known would be a protracted game. His next and much more serious attempt was made in 1113, but again the pope was evasive.⁽¹¹⁾ On this occasion Diego enlisted the support of the papal chancellor John of Gaetà, and a surviving letter from him throws light on Diego's strategy. The proposal was to transfer the metropolitanate of Mérida, then of course under Muslim domination, to Santiago de Compostela. As we shall see, this was to be the solution eventually adopted. Two years later, in 1115, Diego was again in touch with Paschal II. There is no evidence that he raised the matter of the archbishopric on this occasion, but he did manage to squeeze other concessions in his favour: exemption from attending ecclesiastical councils during the present time of civil disturbance -- this was a blow against Bernardo of Toledo who had been convening church councils in his capacity as papal legate -- and the right to wear the tunic and stole for every-day, non-ceremonial occasions.⁽¹²⁾

Diego was nothing if not tenacious. After the goings-on in the town of Compostela in 1116-17 had subsided, he determined to make another attempt. It was a promising moment, for in January 1118 pope Paschal II died and his successor was none other than Diego's friend and ally John of Gaetà, [198] who took the name of Gelasius II.⁽¹³⁾ The negotiations that followed were described in great detail by Gerald of Beauvais, who himself took part in them, in the Historia. Diego seems not to have heard of the change of pope until about July. He at once dispatched two envoys from the cathedral chapter. They were intercepted by the Aragonese and one of them was held in prison. When Diego heard of this he determined to send two more. They too were unable to get beyond Castile for fear of the Aragonese, but entrusted their business to Bernard, prior of the Cluniac house of Carrión. In the meantime pope Gelasius had sent cardinal Deusdedit to Spain to summon the higher clergy to the council he proposed to hold at Clermont in March 1119. After the cardinal's visit to Santiago de Compostela Diego made up his mind to attend the council so as to put his case to the pope in person. While waiting on the Tierra de Campos for a safe conduct to get him through Aragon Diego heard a rumour that Gelasius had died. He went on to Burgos to attend the royal court and it was there, probably early in March 1119, that prior Bernard of Carrión rejoined him. Bernard confirmed the melancholy news that pope Gelasius, from whom Diego had hoped so much, had died at Cluny on 29 January. But there was cheering news of his successor. Only four days after Gelasius' death there had been chosen to succeed him Guy, the archbishop of Vienne, who took the name of Calixtus II. Now Guy was the brother of Diego's old master Raymond of Burgundy, count of Galicia, queen Urraca's first husband; the uncle therefore of the young king Alfonso Raimúndez; and a man known to Diego. (As far as we know the two men had met only twice, in 1100 and 1107. But it is difficult to imagine that Guy, who kept an affectionate watch over his nephew, had had no contact with Diego between 1107 and 1119.)

Diego was elated at the news of Guy's promotion. He was still more so when he received an encouraging letter -- one of the earliest of Calixtus' surviving letters -- brought by no less a personage than the new pope's brother-in-law. This time Diego's envoy, Gerald, managed to get through to the papal court, then at Montpellier, probably at some point [199] in June 1119. Discussion of Diego's business was postponed until the council of Toulouse, held early in July. The pope's reply was not as generous as Gerald had hoped. In particular, it was conveyed to Diego that nothing could be done in the matter unless he attended the papal court in person: he was bidden to be present at the council to be held at Rheims in October. On Gerald's return to Compostela, probably in August, Diego started to make preparations for his journey, but was forbidden to go by queen Urraca. Hugo bishop of Porto, a protégé of Diego and formerly a canon of Compostela, offered to go instead. He reached the papal court at Cluny early in January 1120. Over a month was spent in canvassing support. When all preparations had been made Hugo launched his final assault. It was successful. Four papal bulls gave Diego almost all that he could desire. The dignity and metropolitan rights of the see of Mérida were transferred to Santiago de Compostela until such time as the city of Mérida should be reconquered from the Muslims. Diego was appointed papal legate throughout the ecclesiastical provinces of both Mérida and Braga. The bishops of Coimbra and Salamanca were ordered to be obedient to their new metropolitan. The new archbishop himself was urged to be duly grateful to the Roman church and submissive towards her. The papal bulls reached Galicia in the summer. On St. James's day, 25 July 1120, the privileges were solemnly received and read out in a loud voice (excelsa voce) to the clergy and people assembled in the cathedral of Compostela. It was the triumphant conclusion to nearly twenty years of striving and the high point of Diego's career.

Such, in briefest outline, is the story of how Compostela became an archbishopric. But the narrative in itself tells us little of how the business was carried through. What strategy and tactics did Diego adopt? Who were his allies and what could they do for him? Fortunately for us, Gerald's narrative in the Historia Compostellana is not only detailed but also extremely candid.

Allies were needed both at home and abroad. At home it was desirable and perhaps essential for Diego to have the support of the crown. He consulted Alfonso VI before he went to Rome in 1104 and Paschal II's grant of the pallium [200] was made at the king's request as well as Diego's. Queen Urraca was privy to Diego's negotiations with Gelasius II, and it was to her that he turned for help when he could not pass through Aragon early in 1119. As Gerald observed, 'it was not fitting that such a business should go forward without the queen's being consulted'. She was able to prevent Diego from going to attend the council of Rheims (though it is possible, as was suggested in Chapter VI, that he had no great wish to absent himself from Spain at that juncture). When Gerald was at the curia in the summer of 1119 he was embarrassed by the arrival of letters allegedly from Alfonso Raimúndez which were critical of Diego. (Diego's supporters persuaded themselves, and seem to have persuaded the curia, that the letters had been forged by the archbishop of Toledo.) At all events, the young king supported Diego's ambitions in the end, for the grant of the archbishopric was made 'at the supplication of' -- among others -- 'our nephew king Alfonso'. By contrast, the persistent hostility of the king of Aragon obstructed Diego throughout the negotiations of the years 1118-20.⁽¹⁴⁾

On his way to Rome in 1104 Diego had called at Cluny and received useful advice from the aged abbot Hugh.⁽¹⁵⁾ You've got to work hard on the papal court, he said in effect; especially on the cardinals. Diego took his words to heart. It was a great stroke for him to have engaged the interest of John of Gaetà, as we have seen that he had done by 1113. The papal chancellor was not simply the head of the pope's secretariat. During this period the holder of the office was increasingly becoming the pope's right-hand man in the daily round of papal government at its highest level; as it were a papal 'prime minister'. There were in addition two cardinals with whom Diego's connections were close. Boso can be traced as cardinal-priest of Sta Anastasia from 1113. In 1116-17 he had undertaken an important legatine journey to Spain in the course of which he held two church councils, the most westerly of them at Burgos in February 1117. This was not attended by Diego, but two of his henchmen were there, Nuño of Mondoñedo and Hugo of Porto. [201] Deusdedit, cardinal-priest of San Lorenzo in Damaso from 1116, had visited Spain on papal business, as we have seen, in 1118-19. In the course of this journey he had visited Compostela, where Diego had prudently given him a prebend.⁽¹⁶⁾ Deusdedit was among the electors of Gelasius II in 1118. Both he and Boso were with the papal court at the time of Gelasius' death and the election of Calixtus in 1119. Both men were active in pressing the cause of the Compostelan archbishopric with the pope.⁽¹⁷⁾

Abbot Pontius of Cluny was another important ally, as Gerald's narrative stressed more than once. Not only could the network of Cluniac houses in Spain provide practical help over the transport of bullion -- something that the Spanish Cluniacs had had much practice in: Diego and his advisers believed that abbot Pontius, as head of the whole Cluniac confraternity, was specially well-placed to influence pope Calixtus. They were correct. Pontius' advocacy of Diego's cause was acknowledged in the papal bull which transferred the archbishopric of Mérida to Compostela. It was Pontius who 'leaked' the allegedly forged letters of Alfonso Raimúndez to Gerald, it was he who assisted Gerald at the council of Toulouse, and it was to him that Hugo of Porto presented letters and tokens (litteras et intersignia) to establish his credentials in 1120. It was to his great dismay that Hugo found that there was some estrangement between abbot and pope when he reached the curia in January. He could make no headway in his negotiations until the two men had been reconciled.⁽¹⁸⁾

This does not exhaust the list of allies to whom Diego could look for assistance. Bishop Guy of Lescar, in southwestern France was another.⁽¹⁹⁾ We should like to know more [202] about the Burgundian noblemen described as confratres of the church of Santiago, who in the course of pilgrimages thereto 'had placed themselves beneath the yoke of the apostle' (seipsos ipsi apostolo subjugaverant) -- whatever this may mean. They included important people such as duke Hugh II of Burgundy, who had twice visited Compostela as a pilgrim and was related to pope Calixtus, and the count of Albon, who had made the pilgrimage in 1102.⁽²⁰⁾

Diego had three possible strategies to follow in his negotiations. He could seek the creation of an entirely new metropolitanate; or the transfer of the metropolitan rank of Braga to Compostela; or the transfer of that of Mérida.⁽²¹⁾ He seems never to have contemplated the first option. It may have been that recent precedents were not encouraging -- for instance in the tangled affair of the archbishopric of Dol in Brittany; or simply that it was well-known that the popes were reluctant to sanction such entirely new departures in the geography of ecclesiastical administration (save in crusading or missionary contexts). As things turned out it was the 'way of Mérida' that prevailed in the end. But it appears that it was only at a late date in the negotiations that Diego -- or his envoy bishop Hugo of Porto -- finally committed himself to it. The attraction of the 'way of Braga' was that in papal eyes the existing archbishop of Braga had disgraced himself so completely that some signal example should be made of his church by way of punishment. We encounter here one of the most bizarre clerical careers of the early twelfth century.

Archbishop Maurice had been promoted to Braga from the bishopric of Coimbra early in 1109.⁽²²⁾ In the course of [203] a visit to the papal curia in 1116-17 he was chosen by Paschal II -- we do not know why -- to act as an intermediary between the papal court and the emperor Henry V. During the course of his embassy Maurice crowned Henry (March 1117). This was not a coronation but a crown-wearing: none the less it gave deep offence at Rome. Maurice was excommunicated shortly afterwards at the council of Benevento. Meanwhile, he remained in the imperial entourage. After Paschal II's death in January 1118, Gelasius II was chosen pope against the wishes of the powerful Frangipani faction. These men, followed by most of the Romans and supported by the imperial court, declared the recent papal election invalid. Once again, as in the days of Gregory VII and Henry IV, a rival imperial pope was chosen. Maurice of Braga was the man selected (March 1118). A vigorous propaganda campaign was conducted against him by Gelasius II and later by Calixtus II, and by some of the cardinals, notably Cuno, cardinal-bishop of Praeneste. Maurice seems to have received hardly any ecclesiastical support, even in his own church of Braga, to whose clergy he wrote very soon after his election.⁽²³⁾ The skillful diplomacy of Calixtus II, ably seconded by the abbot of Cluny, succeeded in detaching the German emperor from his pope. Even Roman opinion finally turned against Maurice and in 1119, isolated, he retired to Sutri. There in 1121 he was besieged by the troops of Calixtus II, captured, subjected to various humiliations and finally confined in the abbey of La Cava where he ended his days many years later. It was a sad end to an extraordinary and in some ways brilliant career. As far as Diego Gelmírez was concerned it meant that during the crucial period between 1118 and 1121 the most dangerous enemy of the pope was the renegade archbishop of Braga. Diego might well have hoped to capitalize on this. Whether a pope would ever have seriously contemplated so sweeping a change in the structure of the Iberian church simply in retribution for the sins of an errant archbishop may be doubted. But in the heady days of 1118 anything seemed possible.⁽²⁴⁾

[204] The 'way of Mérida' was different again. The point urged by abbot Pontius was that an organized Christian church had ceased to exist there, at what had undoubtedly once been the seat of a metropolitan.⁽²⁵⁾ Had he got his facts right? We cannot be sure, but it seems likely. It was certainly the case that the 'Mozarabic' Christian communities of al-Andalus were experiencing intermittent persecution. at Almoravide hands. Numbers of them were decamping to seek new homes in the north; in the exodus from Granada in 1125, very large numbers. We cannot assume that the church leaders of western Christendom were ignorant about such ecclesiastical life as still survived in the formerly Christian lands now under Islamic rule. Gregory VII had corresponded with Christians in north Africa, the Norman conquerors had discovered numerous Christian communities in Sicily, Paschal II had been in touch with the church of Malaga, a bishop of Granada had attended queen Urraca's court in 1116, and the Christian community of Lisbon had a bishop at the time of the crusaders' siege of the city in 1147. Of the church of Mérida we know nothing. At any rate, Calixtus II was evidently persuaded that the see of Mérida was not only vacant but had in some sense lapsed; for so he stated in his bull.⁽²⁶⁾

Diego's strategy, therefore, demanded a good deal of hard talking about Spanish ecclesiastical organization past and present, and an awareness of current developments in high politics.⁽²⁷⁾ His tactics had to be more earthy, but they still demanded a certain flair. Bribes can so easily misfire if offered at the wrong moment, or to the wrong person. However, the engaging frankness of the Historia Compostellana shows that Diego was rarely left in any doubt about whose palm to grease and when. It provides ample confirmation of contemporary satire about the venality of the papal curia, such as the poem whose title is quoted at the head of this chapter. Both Gelasius II and Calixtus II made it plain that Diego must be prepared to spend heavily if his cause were to prosper.⁽²⁸⁾ The message very soon got through to [205] Compostela. Cardinal Deusdedit may have asked for his prebend; he certainly asked for a costly chasuble a few years later. The cardinals expected to receive 'many big presents' (magna et innumera munera), and grumbled when their expectations were disappointed -- temporarily, for Hugo of Porto stayed on at the curia to arrange for the distribution of what were tactfully referred to as 'blessings' (benedictiones). Keen embarrassment was caused when an allegedly gold reliquary was found to be only of silver plated in gold.⁽²⁹⁾ We can reconstruct in some detail what Diego had to spend. The first pair of envoys (summer 1118) took with them 120 ounces (unciae) of gold; this was captured by the Aragonese and apparently never recovered. The second took 100 ounces (half of which was entrusted to Bernard of Carrión). In 1119 Gerald carried with him the 'gold' reliquary which was to cause so much trouble, 100 maravedis, 211 Poitevin shillings, 60 Milanese, 20 Toulousain and more besides (the words - et cetera - are his own). In 1120 the sum of 260 silver marks was urgently requested by Hugo of Porto for the final hand-outs. It was made up from a silver dish formerly in the possession of al-Musta'in the taifa king of Zaragoza (40 marks); a golden cross and crown, and a chasuble worked in gold thread (casula aurea), all formerly given to the church of Santiago by one of the kings named Ordoño (180 marks);⁽³⁰⁾ and 40 marks contributed by Diego Gelmírez himself. The silver vessel -- it is referred to as an intremissa, which usually means a big shallow dish -- is particularly interesting. Al-Musta'in was the last taifa king of Zaragoza, killed in battle in 1110. His son gave hostages to Alfonso I of Aragon, who placed them in the custody of queen Urraca, who freed them on receipt of a large ransom in gold and silver. This is a plausible context for the passage of such a treasure into the hands of the Castilian royal family. There were several occasions between 1110 and 1120 when the intremissa might have been passed on from Urraca to Diego. It was acutely observed by López [206] Ferreiro that the king of Aragon probably still regarded it as his property; hence his attempts to despoil successive Compostelan envoys of their bullion.⁽³¹⁾

Thus, by a prodigious expenditure of effort and treasure, Diego became an archbishop. But, as he must have foreseen even amid all the rejoicing on 25 July 1120, the papal bulls which he had just heard read out were to prove dragons' teeth. From them sprang into being a crop of formidable problems which were to dog him for the rest of his career. They occasioned Diego so much vexation and illustrate so well the nature of the relationship between the popes and the western Iberian churches that we must dwell a little on them.

A metropolitan must have suffragans. Calixtus II had allotted two to Diego, those of Coimbra and Salamanca. Diego's problem was how to enforce his authority over them. Both were a long way from Compostela, and Coimbra was in the county of Portugal which was fast emancipating itself from political subjection to the crown of León-Castile.⁽³²⁾ In the recent past Coimbra had moved much in the orbit of Braga; Toledo too had claims upon her. In 1103 Paschal II had ordered bishop Maurice of Coimbra to be obedient to the archbishop of Braga, as his suffragan. The letter probably originated in a complaint emanating from Braga. It is not difficult to guess that his loyalty was being sought by Toledo. Not only was bishop Maurice a protégé of archbishop Bernardo of Toledo, but in addition pope Urban II had in 1088 granted the archbishop of Toledo metropolitan powers over any restored bishopric in Christian Spanish territory whose metropolitan church remained in Islamic hands. It was widely accepted -- though not at Braga -- that in the Visigothic period the see of Coimbra had been subject to the metropolitan of Mérida: ergo, its bishop should now be subject to Toledo. However, the position taken up by the pope in 1103 was maintained. Bishop Gonzalo of Coimbra (1109-28) seems to have been a loyal suffragan [207] of Braga. The archbishop of Toledo was rebuked by the pope for unjustly seeking a profession of obedience from him. In 1115 a papal ruling confirmed Coimbra's subjection to Braga. Early in 1117, however, the question was re-opened. At the council of Burgos the papal legate cardinal Boso -- Diego's friend and ally (could he have acted on Compostelan prompting?)⁽³³⁾ -- conducted a thorough examination of all the evidence he could assemble and ruled that Coimbra should be subject not to Braga but to Mérida. This was the state of affairs when Diego became archbishop in 1120. Gonzalo was far from being a dutiful suffragan. He failed to attend Diego's first council of Compostela in 1121, leading Diego to complain to the pope. Calixtus was sympathetic in his reply which was dated 21 June 1121. What he failed to tell Diego was that on the day before, his chancery had issued a privilege for the church of Braga stating unequivocally that the bishopric of Coimbra was a suffragan of Braga, i.e. going back to the situation as it had been before Boso's ruling of 1117. Yet three years later, in June 1124, the same pope roundly told Gonzalo of Coimbra that his see was in the province of Mérida-Compostela. Bernardo succeeded Gonzalo as bishop of Coimbra in 1128. Previously a canon and archdeacon of Braga he was elected at the royal vill of Guimarães 'with the consent of the lord king and on the advice of the archbishop of Braga' (i.e. Afonso Henriques and archbishop Paio Mendes), and consecrated at Braga by the archbishop. The text of his profession of obedience on that occasion was copied no less than four times into the cathedral cartulary of Braga. As seen from Compostela, the task of getting him to acknowledge subjection to Diego must have looked daunting. And so it proved, despite fulminations from both Honorius II in 1128 and Innocent II in 1130. Yet it was Innocent II again who some years later, in 1139, ruled that Coimbra was in the province of Braga. And so the tussle went on. It was still going ,on fifty years later.

At Salamanca the bishop who was ordered by the pope in 1120 to be obedient to Diego Gelmírez was Jerónimo, [208] now at the end of an exotic career. From his native Périgord he had gone as a monk to Moissac, and thence under the patronage of archbishop Bernardo to a canonry at Toledo. In about 1097 he had entered the service of the Cid and was promoted to the bishopric of Valencia which he held from 1098 until the abandonment of the city in 1102. He had been immediately translated to the bishopric of Salamanca. From Diego's point of view Jerónimo was a man of the Toledan connection. It is probable that he was also courted by the Portuguese; in ecclesiastical terms, that the archbishop of Braga had designs over Salamanca.⁽³⁴⁾ But documents that were regarded as authoritative stipulated that the bishopric of Salamanca should be subject to Mérida. This was the situation when Jerónimo died in June 1120. His successor, evidently appointed before the end of the year, was named Geraldo.⁽³⁵⁾ He was summoned to and apparently attended Diego's council of Compostela in January 1121. He was consecrated in Rome by pope Calixtus. He made a profession of obedience to Diego Gelmírez. We sense, though cannot prove, a prior connection with the church of Compostela. But Geraldo did not last long. Expelled from his diocese by the Aragonese in the winter of 1121-2, he retired to Compostela and later, with Diego's permission, attached himself to the royal court of queen Urraca. Whether he subsequently died, or was held to have resigned his see, we do not know. What we do know is that in 1123 the Toledo party tried to make a come-back: for Nuño, Geraldo's successor, was consecrated by the archbishop of Toledo. Diego protested vigorously, and got the pope to do likewise. Nuño submitted and made a profession of obedience to Compostela. But Diego clearly regarded him as unsatisfactory, and six years later managed to have him deposed, on what grounds we do not know, by a papal legate at the council of Carrión. His successor was almost certainly nominated by Diego. Alfonso Pérez was a canon of Compostela whom [209] Diego had employed on at least two occasions as an envoy to the papal curia. But he too did not last long. He died at Cluny in November 1131 after attending the council of Rheims. The following three years saw three different contenders wrangling over the bishopric of Salamanca; and there for the moment we may leave its troubled history.

What we cannot yet do is to leave the tangled story of Diego's dealings with his suffragans. As we have seen, the pope had allotted him two only. But he thought that he had two more, Avila and Zamora. The bishopric of Avila was an ancient one -- Priscillian had been its bishop -- and belonged to the province of Mérida. The see of Zamora, however, had not existed in the Roman or Visigothic periods. It was a creation of the ninth century, though it had been in abeyance from the early part of the eleventh. Its metropolitan allegiance was not clear. When the two sees were re-established they were held in plurality by Jerónimo of Salamanca. Diego was determined that Avila at least should be his. He did not shrink from interpolating the text of the papal privilege which gave him his archbishopric to gain his point.⁽³⁶⁾ There is some mystery about the succession to Jerónimo in the see of Avila.⁽³⁷⁾ We hear of a bishop-elect, P., who was summoned to attend the Compostela council of January 1121. But shortly afterwards we hear of another bishop-elect named Sancho. Some irregularity was alleged about his election. The business was examined at Compostela by Diego's old friend cardinal Boso -- another friend, bishop Guy of Lescar, was also present -- and the election declared satisfactory. Sancho was consecrated by Diego and made profession of obedience. Not all were satisfied, notably the archbishop of Toledo, who was still complaining about it three years later. We know nothing of Sancho's background but it does look as though he were Diego's candidate. He held the see of Avila until 1133.

At Zamora Diego was less fortunate. Jerónimo's successor there was a man of the Toledan connection. Bernardo, who [210] became bishop of Zamora in 1121, had previously been a canon and archdeacon of Toledo. The Historia Compostellana, significantly, hardly ever mentions him. He outlived Diego to die after a long and distinguished episcopate in 1149. Zamora did eventually become a suffragan of Compostela; but that was much later on and in very different circumstances.

Diego therefore had in Coimbra a suffragan whom he could not discipline, in Salamanca and Avila suffragans whom he could control only with a struggle, and in Zamora a suffragan over whom he had only shadowy claims. It was a familiar predicament for a twelfth-century archbishop. An instructive parallel is provided by the dealings of Diego's contemporary, archbishop Thurstan of York, with his Scottish suffragans: like Diego he found the exercise of metropolitan authority practically impossible.⁽³⁸⁾ Both archbishops fell back on papal authority. But it will by now be plain that there was little that papal authority could do to help them. Rulings were contradictory, as in the extraordinary case of Coimbra in 1121.⁽³⁹⁾ Mandates were disregarded, and sanctions ineffectual. The evidence on which decisions might be based was rarely unambiguous. And money talked -- doubtless the money of Diego's opponents as vocally as his own.

Such practical power as Diego could exercise as a metropolitan over his suffragan bishops would depend on local initiatives that he himself could take. Systematic metropolitan administration such as we find later on -- provincial councils, metropolitical visitation, archiepiscopal jurisdiction -- did not exist in early twelfth-century Spain; nor indeed in any part of Latin Christendom. What mattered was patronage; to put it more bluntly, jobbing your own candidates into bishoprics -- any bishoprics, not just those of your own province. It was correctly regarded as a triumph for Diego to have got his own men into the sees of Mondoñedo and Porto in 1112. Given that in Spain, as elsewhere, kings and [211] queens had a large say in episcopal elections, Diego's ability to get his way would depend to a great extent upon his relations with the royal court: we shall see further examples of this in Chapter X. There was not much that a pope could do to give force to an archbishop's pretensions. However, it was quite a different matter where legatine authority was concerned.

In April 1093 archbishop Bernardo of Toledo was appointed papal legate throughout all the ecclesiastical provinces of 'the Spains', including that of Narbonne. He held this position for an astonishingly long time. It was not until November 1114 that he was deprived of his legatine powers over the province of Braga.⁽⁴⁰⁾ The concession to Diego of legatine authority over the provinces of Mérida-Compostela and Braga in 1120 was an important one. It enabled him to override the authority of the archbishop of Braga and to summon the higher clergy of that province to legatine councils held at Compostela in 1121, 1122, 1123 and 1124. It gave him a handle for disciplining recalcitrants. Gonzalo of Coimbra might claim that he was not bound to attend a council summoned by an archbishop of Compostela; he could not claim exemption from attendance at a council convened by a papal legate. He was suspended for failing to attend the councils of 1121 and 1124. This does not mean that all was plain sailing for Diego. In 1123 he sought confirmation of his legatine powers from Calixtus II (a sure sign of trouble),⁽⁴¹⁾ and in 1124 the archbishop of Toledo forbade him to hold the council at all.

Diego knew that he could rely on the help of pope Calixtus. For nearly seven years Diego had enjoyed the consistent friendship and active benevolence of two successive popes. In 1120 he had got nearly everything he wanted. Four years later, in June 1124, he finally got what he had most anxiously waited for: the temporary transfer of the metropolitanate of [212] Mérida to Compostela was made permanent.⁽⁴²⁾ He was only just in time.

Popes are as mortal as other men. Calixtus II died on 13 December 1124. His successor was Lambert, the cardinal-bishop of Ostia, who took the name of Honorius II and was to occupy the papal throne until 1130. Diego was to find it far more difficult to get. his own way with the new pope. This was not simply because he had had -- so far as we know -- no contact with Honorius before 1124. Nor was it just that he could no longer rely on friends at the curia: Boso had left to become bishop of Turin in 1122, and though Deusdedit remained in the curia until his death in 1129 he seems to have exerted little influence on affairs.⁽⁴³⁾ It is rather the case that changes were afoot in Rome which were to alter the character of papal action over the next generation or so. Once more it must be emphasized that Diego's career cannot be interpreted without some reference to that wider stage on which he aspired to play a part.

In September 1122 the concordat of Worms had brought to an end the long struggle over investitures between successive popes and emperors. (Lambert of Ostia had been one of the principal negotiators on the papal side.) In March 1123 Calixtus presided over the first Lateran council. It was the biggest and most imposing assembly of its kind ever seen in western Christendom, and its decrees established a standard of disciplinary excellence the realization of which was to be the aim of reforming churchmen for the rest of the century. Shortly afterwards the office of papal chancellor was granted to Aimeric, a Frenchman like the pope, an Augustinian canon, a friend of Bernard of Clairvaux, and a man committed to the ideas of the reformers. He was to hold this vitally important office for eighteen years.⁽⁴⁴⁾ During the same period [213] in 1122 and 1123 the pope created a considerable number of new cardinals. For the most part they were not of Roman origin; many were natives of northern Italy or France. Several were connected in some way or another with the order of canons regular, and some with the Cistercians. All were men of reforming temper. It was this group, ably led by Aimeric, who managed -- one might even say rigged -- the election of Lambert of Ostia in 1124. Lambert's choice of pontifical name deliberately recalled Honorius I (625-38), the devoted follower of Gregory the Great, who more than any other pope of the seventh century tried to put his master's ideals into practice: he might also have had in mind a more recent pope Gregory. The years 1122-4 marked a turning-point in the history of the twelfth-century papacy. The dreary and latterly futile conflict with the emperor was over. A new generation of younger men came to the fore. They included men of outstanding talents and energies who were associated with others who were striking out new directions in the spiritual life of Christendom such as Bernard of Clairvaux, Peter the Venerable of Cluny and Norbert of Xanten. Attracted by new departures within the church, the new men were dedicated to the inward renewal of the clergy as a means for the transformation of Christian society in a fashion pleasing to God. So they saw themselves. Others found them shrill, abrasive, intolerant and sanctimonious. Their most determined domestic, enemies were the men they had displaced at the curia, the 'old guard' of cardinals surviving from the pontificates of Urban II and Paschal II. The hostilities generated by this conflict between generations and -- in a sense -- ideals were to erupt in the papal schism of 1130. During the pontificate of Honorius II there were signs, all over Europe, of the trouble that was brewing.

The new pope's attitude to Diego Gelmírez was distinctly chilly. The tone was set in his first communication, a letter dated 1 May 1125.⁽⁴⁵⁾ It was the practice of the papal chancery to address bishops as 'venerable brother' (venerabilis frater) in courteous acknowledgement of their equality of rank with the bishop of Rome, all other clergy and laymen being addressed as 'beloved son' (dilectus filius). In an [214] extraordinary departure from diplomatic practice Honorius pointedly addressed Diego as 'son' -- not even a 'beloved' to soften the blow! -- and did it not once but twice in the course of the letter. This was tantamount to an insult. Diego must have experienced keen anxiety about his prospects. His office of papal legate had automatically lapsed at the death of Calixtus II and he wanted to have it renewed. His messengers to the curia later in the year encountered strong opposition there:⁽⁴⁶⁾ this they attributed to the machinations of the new archbishop of Toledo, Raimundo, who was in Rome in November 1125, and Diego's unruly suffragan Gonzalo of Coimbra. The distribution of a benedictio and the application to friendly interests -- perhaps cardinal Deusdedit -- availed them little. In a letter to Diego dated 10 January 1126 Honorius curtly told him that his request, presumably for the legation, could not for the moment be considered, and darkly warned him that he should 'study to use, not to abuse, the dignity of the pallium, which is a symbol of humility granted to you by the clemency of your mother the holy Roman church'.⁽⁴⁷⁾ A later communication, in July, was positively menacing. The pope referred to ugly rumours about Diego and with scarcely veiled hostility expressed the hope that he need lend no credence to them: let Diego so conduct himself that he lose not 'the goodwill (gratiam) of St. Peter and ourselves'.⁽⁴⁸⁾ With his usual political good sense Diego had also identified and addressed himself to the man who mattered, perhaps, even more than the pope himself. But chancellor Aimeric's letter was of an icy formality. He thanked Diego for his presents -- note Diego's usual tactics -- and announced as briefly as was consistent with courtesy that he would continue to work 'towards the end which you have indicated'.⁽⁴⁹⁾ This was the coldest sort of comfort. Diego persevered: but the pope's next letter was as discouraging as the last.⁽⁵⁰⁾

How had Diego given offence? The pope's allusion to the [215] abuse of the pallium might suggest that Diego had worn it on feasts other than those laid down in the bull by which the distinction had been granted to him twenty years earlier. This was in itself a fairly trivial offence, though it is only too easy to see how it could have served as the handle for a Toledan faction eager to find fault with Diego. Very much more seriously, though oddly never mentioned by the pope, Diego had continued to claim the office of papal legate. So he styled himself in three documents that we know of from the year 1126.⁽⁵¹⁾ The latest of them (21 July) must have been drawn up after Diego had received the pope's letter of 10 January refusing him the legation (and possibly the earlier ones as well). But we are still left wondering why the pope's earliest letter to Diego (1 May 1125) was so cold. Perhaps it simply was that the churchmanship of Diego -- who was now about sixty years of age and had been a bishop for a quarter of a century -- was not of a sort to appeal to the faction which had seized control of the curia in the years 1122-4.

There was no improvement during the remainder of the pontificate of Honorius II. If anything, indeed, relations deteriorated. Diego complained to Aimeric about the pope's attitude, but got a reply almost as formal as the earlier letter. He believed that Honorius had sent a secret agent to spy on him. Though he enlisted the help of Alfonso VII in the matter of the legation, it was to no avail.⁽⁵²⁾ Honorius for his part put off Diego's requests by saying that he would send a legate a latere, but delayed doing so until 1129. In the letter that finally announced the coming of this legate -- Humbert, cardinal-priest of San Clemente -- the pope expressed his thanks for Diego's recent 'visit', through his envoys, to the papal curia; a heavily ironical allusion, we may suspect, to Diego's oath sworn many years earlier to visit the curia once every three years.⁽⁵³⁾ In all the five years and more of Honorius II's pontificate the only crumb of consolation that Diego got was the pope's summons of [216] archbishop Paio of Braga to answer for his wrongful consecration of the new bishop of Coimbra.⁽⁵⁴⁾

Cardinal Humbert, whose legatine journey to Spain occupied the early months of 1130, was typical of the new generation of cardinals. He was a northern Italian, a native of either Pisa or Bologna; had been a regular canon at Pisa; was promoted to the college of cardinals by Honorius II in 1126; and was entrusted with responsibility for the first general legatine visitation of Spain since cardinal Deusdedit's in 1123, and which was also the first of the reign of Alfonso VII of León-Castile. A few years later he was advanced by Innocent II to the archbishopric of Pisa.⁽⁵⁵⁾ He was, in short, a very distinguished churchman. A fair amount of information about his legation of 1130 has survived, and we shall have to return to it later on. What matters for the present is that Diego seems to have made a good impression on him. Humbert spent a week in Compostela, doubtless to investigate the charges made against its archbishop before the pope and to carry out a narrow scrutiny of the ecclesiastical arrangements there. There is no indication that he was dissatisfied with what he found. The Historia implies -- but this is hardly surprising -- that Humbert was deferential towards Diego. Certainly the tone of the letter which he wrote to Diego in the following year was friendly.⁽⁵⁶⁾ Humbert's visit may have done something to ease the strained relations between Diego and the papal curia. But another series of events did far more to this end; events which were quite beyond Diego's or Humbert's control.

Only a few days after the council of Carrión which was the high point of Humbert's visit (4-7 February 1130), pope Honorius died (13 February). The process of choosing his successor brought to the surface the divisive issues which had been simmering within the curia for the last seven years or so. Two rival popes were elected by different factions within the curia, Anacletus II and Innocent II. This schism in the [217] papacy was to last for the next eight years. The more one looks at the papal schism of 1130-8 the harder it is to persuade oneself -- or allow oneself to be persuaded by the frothy rhetoric of St. Bernard -- that any very profound issues of principle were at stake. The most acute of modern investigators, Klewitz, brilliantly highlighted the fact that it was first and foremost a conflict between different generations.⁽⁵⁷⁾ The Anacletans were generally the older among the cardinals, the Innocentians the younger men who had come to the fore under Calixtus II and Honorius II. The two groups held, as different generations tend to do, subtly different ideals. The older men had grown up in the heroic days of struggle with the Salian emperors: that conflict had ended in 1122, it was no time to stir up further strife. But the younger men saw the settlement of 1122 only as a prelude to what they interpreted as the true task of church reform adumbrated by the great forerunners of the previous century such as Peter Damian, Humbert of Silva Candida, and Gregory VII: the transformation first of the clergy and then, through them, of lay society as a whole. The Anacletans stood for old-fashioned Benedictine monachism. The Innocentians championed a far stricter monasticism such as the Cistercian or Carthusian, but were also keen supporters of new orders which were active within the secular church such as the Augustinians and Premonstratensians.

Sooner or later Diego would be forced to take a decision. Which way would he be likely to jump? It is a little unwary to assume too readily that Diego was a natural Innocentian.⁽⁵⁸⁾ On the contrary, there were several factors which might have inclined him to the Anacletan side. In the first place, his relations with Honorius II had been conspicuously bad. Second, like many of the Anacletans he was now an old man. Third, he could hardly be said to be in the forefront of the most up-to-date reform: the new religious orders, for instance, had made no impact as yet upon his diocese. Fourth, the Portuguese were notably loyal Innocentians: but the archbishop of Braga was Diego's rival (and the count of Portugal his king's). Anacletus certainly thought Diego worth courting [218] -- he was doing so as late as 1134 -- and it is significant that Diego had the letters preserved in his registrum, the Historia Compostellana.⁽⁵⁹⁾

This is precisely the point. Diego was courted by both parties. This is always agreeable, and it must have been distinctly so after the cold-shouldering that Diego had had from Honorius II. In the end, church and state in León-Castile came out for Innocent II. (We do not know precisely when, nor in what circumstances.) It was this, far more than cardinal Humbert's visit, which helped to restore Diego to papal favour. The signs of this restoration are writ large in the surviving communications which passed between the papal curia and Compostela. The batch of letters dispatched from Genoa on 2 August 1130 are the first evidence of it: their tone was notably friendly.⁽⁶⁰⁾ Innocent's attitude continued warm, but also circumspect. Diego's unwavering loyalty could not be taken for granted. The pope's letter of 16 February 1131 was in these respects a masterpiece.⁽⁶¹⁾ He opened with honeyed words of flattery, even deference, towards his correspondent; then continued with an elaborate bulletin of his recent doings -- the interviews with Louis VI and Henry I, the coming meeting with the emperor Lothar (surely in part at least intended to suggest to Diego's mind that he was on the same sort of footing as these great men); went on to report action in the case of the still-contumacious archbishop of Braga; and wound up by praising Diego's two envoys. The tone thus set in 1130-1 was maintained. Diego was thanked in 1133 for his devotion to the rightful pope, and favoured in 1134 with a further bulletin on papal progress. Even the begging letter which Innocent sent him at about this time was cast in such courtly circumlocutions that its drift is not immediately clear.⁽⁶²⁾ Diego's other contacts at the curia caught their tone from [219] the pope. Aimeric's letters to Diego during the schism were much warmer than the curt missives he had fired off in the time of pope Honorius.⁽⁶³⁾ And it was with one of the most devoted of the Innocentians, Guido, cardinal-deacon of SS. Cosmas and Damian, that Diego struck up a friendship during the latter part of the 1130s.⁽⁶⁴⁾ Thus harmony had been restored. It is fitting, if accidental, that our last record of Diego's relations with the papal court should be the invitation sent to him in 1138 to attend the second Lateran council which the pope intended to hold in 1139. The summons was conveyed by a loyal papal servant who was also an old friend of Diego's, bishop Guy of Lescar.⁽⁶⁵⁾

Relations between the papacy and Galicia underwent a transformation during the forty years of Diego's tenure of the see of Santiago de Compostela. Historians are prone to mistake increased evidence for increased activity. In this instance, however, there can be no doubt that the essence of this transformation lay in the vastly greater amount of traffic that passed between the two by the end of Diego's lifetime. Cresconio, bishop of Compostela in Diego's infancy, in all probability never in his life so much as set eyes on a papal letter. Consider, by contrast, the trafficking that took place during the eighteen months that succeeded the formal reception in July 1120 of the papal privileges exalting the see of Compostela to archiepiscopal rank.

At some point in the second half of the year cardinal Boso set out for another legatine visit to Spain, his second (if we exclude participation in the Pisan expedition against the Balearic Islands in 1114): he travelled in the company of bishop Hugo of Porto as far as Oloron Ste-Marie in the western Pyrenees.⁽⁶⁶⁾ Diego, meanwhile, was reporting to the pope on the alarming political developments of the summer in the kingdom of León-Castile: we know of Diego's communication only through the pope's reply, dated 19 December.⁽⁶⁷⁾ At the very end of the year a letter giving Diego [220] news of pope Calixtus' recent doings -- it will be recalled that the antipope Gregory VIII was still at large -- was dispatched to Compostela by the hands of 'abbot D.', who cannot now be identified.⁽⁶⁸⁾ Among other things, this letter asked Diego to 'aid and sustain' the Roman church -- a polite request for money. (The flow of bullion from Compostela had evidently dried up since Diego had been given his archbishopric in the summer.) It was perhaps in response to this request that a canon of Compostela who is probably to be identified with Pedro Fulco was sent off to the curia, where he can be traced towards the end of June 1121.⁽⁶⁹⁾ He was probably accompanied by the bishop-elect of Salamanca, Geraldo, Diego's suffragan, himself the recipient of a papal letter in the course of the year.⁽⁷⁰⁾ Geraldo was consecrated by the pope at some point in the early summer of 1121. Pedro Fulco was certainly accompanied by another Geraldo who had been sent to the pope by Diego on account of his marital entanglements.⁽⁷¹⁾ At very much the same time, representatives from the church of Braga may be traced at the curia.⁽⁷²⁾ Meanwhile cardinal Boso had paid a visit to Compostela, perhaps in about May or June. It cannot have been long afterwards that Boso heard of the capture of the antipope at Sutri on 23 April: he communicated the news to Diego in the letter he sent to summon him to the legatine council he proposed to hold.⁽⁷³⁾ The council met at Sahagún on 25 August 1121. It may have been at about the same time that a fidelis of the Roman church named Guido arrived as a pilgrim in Compostela: Calixtus suggested that Diego might like to make use of him as a trustworthy messenger.⁽⁷⁴⁾ But Diego failed to attend the council of Sahagún, and may not have been present when Guido reached Compostela. A quarrel between himself and queen Urraca had occurred in July in the course of which she had had him arrested.⁽⁷⁵⁾ One of Diego's reactions was to get word to the pope, which he did by way of his nephew who was studying in France, [221] who turned for help to abbot Pontius of Cluny. The pope's reaction came in letters dated from Melfi early in October (by which time Diego had long been once more at liberty).⁽⁷⁶⁾ The year 1121 ended with a Toledan party at the curia in November,⁽⁷⁷⁾ and the return of cardinal Boso (late 1121 or early 1122) which would have enabled Calixtus to get up-to-date reports on the ecclesiastical situation in north-western Spain.

The sheer quantity of traffic, at first sight rather startling, becomes less so when set in the context of contemporary papal relations with other areas of Christendom.⁽⁷⁸⁾ Two points are worth making about it. First, the envoys whom Diego employed to transact his business must have become very skillful at it. Of all the men who made the long journey on his behalf, the most frequently employed was Pedro Fulco. He visited the papal curia in the winter of 1119-20 and again in 1121; twice or possibly thrice in 1123-4; thrice he undertook the thankless task of journeying to the curia during the pontificate of Honorius II; in 1130 he was entrusted with the delicate job of investigating for Diego which of the rival papal elections was canonical; and he almost certainly paid a last recorded visit to the curia in 1135 -- a total of nine or possibly ten visits in sixteen years.⁽⁷⁹⁾ These embassies -- which incidentally proved materially advantageous to him -- not only marked out Pedro Fulco as a talented diplomat. They must also have contributed to a stock of expertise about how to deal with the papal curia which became the common possession of the archbishop and chapter of Compostela. There was no longer any need to rely, as in 1104, on friendly counsel from the abbot of Cluny. In a church which was becoming ever more bureaucratic and 'professional' this was a capital of skills which would prove indispensable. It was not the least of Diego's contributions to the church of Compostela to have nurtured its growth.

[222] The second point arises from the marital career of the otherwise unknown Geraldo. After living for a long time (diu) with a certain woman he subsequently married another who was related to the first in the third degree of consanguinity (consanguinea in gradu tertio). Was this marriage a lawful one in the eyes of the church? Diego did not know, we presume, and sent Geraldo to the pope, who ruled that it was not.⁽⁸⁰⁾ This is an example of the kind of thing that was happening all over western Christendom during this period. Bishops were sending difficult cases to the curia, were encouraging litigants to seek justice in the highest Christian court. The lawyers at the curia were becoming very busy. Soon new collections of canon law -- Gratian, and a whole succession of decretists and decretalists -- would appear, building upon and refining the existing ones (such as the Polycarpus), and a new and more comprehensive corpus of ecclesiastical law would gradually become current.

Geraldo's love-life is glimpsed only in one short papal mandate. It focuses our attention upon Diego's relations with the curia. But it also directs our gaze back to Compostela. It is one of the rare glimpses that we have, albeit indirectly, of Diego's activities as a judge. The exercise of ecclesiastical jurisdiction is part of the business of being a bishop. What do we know of Diego's running of his diocese?

1. Patrología Latina, vol. CXXXIX, col. 320.

2. LSJ, p. 1.

3. By far the most important work on this topic, and one that has been referred to more than once in earlier chapters, is Vones, Kirchenpolitik. This copious and exhaustive work contains references to all earlier literature on the subject. It is marked throughout by formidable erudition and shrewd critical acumen, and is as nearly definitive as the surviving evidence permits such a study to be. It has been invaluable to me in the preparation of this chapter.

4. HC, pp. 21-3 (=JL 5601), incipit corrected from AC Santiago de Compostela, Tumbo B, fo. 240.

5. Similar privileges of exemption were granted to the sees of Burgos (in 1096), León (1104) and Oviedo (1105).

6. HC, pp. 32-3 (=JL 5880).

7. HC, pp. 256-7. For all that concerns the negotiations over the archbishopric see Vones, Kirchenpolitik, especially ch. IV.

8. HC, pp.42,45-6,257. Dr Vones would place this visit in 1105: Kirchenpolitik; pp. 159-62. See also his cautions at pp. 289-92 on the subject of Diego's attempts to realize his ambitions in the period before 1118; on this topic I find him a little over-cautious.

9. HC, pp. 48-50 (=JL 5986).

10. HC, p. 87 (=JL 6252), dated by association with material at HC, pp. 84-6.

11. HC, pp. 193-4 (=JL 6397). In the course of an elaborate discussion Dr Vones convincingly adjusts the date from 1114 to the previous year: Kirchenpolitik, pp. 289-351.

12. HC, pp. 202-3 (=JL 6466).

13. For what follows see HC, pp. 255-97.

14. For the above see HC, pp. 42, 48, 262, 266, 269, 276 (274), 279 (277), 293.

15. HC, p. 46.

16. HC, p. 268.

17. HC, p. 275 (273).

18. HC, pp. 266-7, 274 (272), 275-6, 283 (281), 284-6, 287 (285), 293. For all that concerns abbot Pontius (or Pons) of Cluny, see now H. E. J. Cowdrey, 'Abbot Pontius of Cluny', Studi Gregoriani 11 (1978), 177-276, especially pp. 200-3, 2 19-23. I am most grateful to Dr Cowdrey for sending me a copy of his article. It is possible that Diego and Pontius had met in 1113 when, it has been suggested, Pontius visited Spain and made his way as far as Compostela: see C. J. Bishko, 'The Spanish journey of abbot Ponce of Cluny', Ricerche di Storia Religiosa I (1957), 311-19. Like Dr Cowdrey (art. cit., p. 200, n. 76) I find Professor Bishko's suggestion attractive but not quite convincing. See also Reilly, Urraca, p. 83, n. 121.

19. HC, pp. 276 (274), 278 (276).

20. HC, pp. 289. Hugh II's grandmother Sybilla was sister to Calixtus II's father count William of Burgundy (d. 1087): see J. Richard, Les Ducs de Bourgogne et la formation du duché (Paris, 1954). On the count of Albon see Vones,  Kirchenpolitik, p.374, n. 31, and pp. 378-80.

21. Abbot Pontius' words quoted at HC, p. 288 suggest that yet a fourth option might have been considered, that of 'reviving' the archbishopric believed once to have existed at Lugo. In actual fact it never had existed, though it may well have been that for much of the eighth and ninth centuries the metropolitans of Braga had resided at Lugo.

22. For all that concerns archbishop Maurice see P. David, 'L'énigme de Maurice Bourdin', in his Études historiques sur la Galice et le Portugal du VI^e au XII^e siècle (Lisbon-Paris, 1947), pp. 441-501.

23. PUP, no. 20 (22 March 1118).

24. HC, pp. 258-9.

25. HC, p. 288.

26. HC, p. 293.

27. Dr Vones observes that Diego's desire for an archbishopric fitted in well with Calixtus II's policy of weakening the authority claimed by primatial sees (in this instance Toledo) over metropolitans: Kirchenpolitik, pp. 371, 375-6.

28. HC, pp. 259, 277 (275).

29. HC, pp. 287 (285), 290-1, 300.

30. In 911 Ordoño II had given to the church of Santiago a gold cross, no less than three golden crowns, and a chasuble: R. 20 April 911. Presumably the crowns were votive, hanging crowns like those found at Guarrazar, not crowns for wearing such as Alfonso III had wished to acquire from the clergy of Tours.

31. LFH III, p. 525, n. 2.

32. For the conflict over Coimbra see HC, pp. 294-5, 308, 336, 359, 395, 404, 409-10, 441, 491-3, 510; PUP, nos. 7, 11, 12, 18, 21, 30; JL 6474; AD Braga, Gaveta dos Arcebispos, no. 4; AD Braga, Liber Fidei, nos. 371 (fo. 106r), 548 (fo. 146v), 573 (fo. 151v), 713 (fol. 191v).

33. It is possible that Boso had visited Compostela and Braga before holding the council at Burgos.

34. AD Braga, Liber Fidei, no. 582 (fo. 152v); DMP, nos. 31, 35.

35. The Salamanca business is even harder to sort out than the Coimbra story. It has to be reconstructed from HC, pp. 308, 341, 359, 379, 407-10, 498-500; PUP, no. 22; R. 11 November 1123; B. Dorado, Historia de Salamanca (Salamanca, 1776), p. 114.

36. The authentic text of JL 6823 is to be found in AC Santiago de Compostela, Tumbo B, fo. 261v-262r (pd. LFH IV, ap. i, pp. 3-5); the interpolated text is in HC, pp. 292-4.

37. For what follows see HC, pp. 308, 322-3, 406, 408.

38. D. Nicholl, Thurstan, archbishop of York (1114-1140) (York, 1964), ch. IV.

39. I should be tempted to regard the privilege of 20 June 1121 as a forgery, did the original not survive at Braga.

40. There are important discussions of the legatine question in J. F. Rivera Recio, La iglesia de Toledo en el siglo XII (Rome, 1966), ch. III, and Vones, Kirchenpolitik, ch. IV.

41. HC, p. 394 (JL 7085). Dr Vones, Kirchenpolitik, pp. 445-51 has argued convincingly that HC, pp. 385-6 (=JL 7020) is a forgery. Yet the temptation to resort to forgery over this issue is in itself of some significance.

42. HC, pp. 396-402 for the negotiations, 402-3 for the bull (=JL 7160). A draft of the bull was sent unsealed to. Diego so that he might emend it: the whole passage (HC, pp. 398-400), if credible, is of exceptional interest for the modus operandi of the papal chancery.

43. Aimeric's career is charted in F.-J. Schmale, Studien zum Schisma des Jahres 1130 (Cologne, 1961), part II, pp. 93-191: for what follows on the cardinals see idem, part I, ch. 2, pp. 29-90.

44. Aimeric's career is charted in F.-J. Schmale, Studien zum Schisma des Jahres 1130 (Cologne, 1961), part II, pp. 93-191: for what follows on the cardinals see idem, part I, ch. 2, pp. 29-90.

45. HC, p. 430 (=JL 7208).

46. HC, pp. 441-2: two embassies were sent.

47. HC, p.442 (=JL 7236).

48. HC, p. 442 (=JL 7237): the correct date is 13 July 1126.

49. HC, pp. 442-3; undated, but evidently of January or July 1126.

50. HC, p.445 (=JL 7274): undated, apparently of 1126-7.

51. R. 13 April 1126, 21 July 1126; AHN 894/19 of 3 May 1126.

52. HC, pp. 490, 491-2 (=JL 7383).

53. HC, p.50. The oath had specified a visit aut per me, aut per meum nuntium, which implies that at least some of the journeys should have been made by Diego in person. He never again visited the curia in person after 1104.

54. HC, p. 492 (=JL 7381).

55. For all that concerns the careers of the cardinals during this period the essential works of reference are R. Hüls, Kardinäle, Kierus und Kirchen Roms 1049-1130 (Tübingen, 1977) and B. Zenker, Die Mitglieder des Kardinalkollegiums von 1130 bis 1159 (Würzburg, 1964).

56. HC, pp. 495-8, 526.

57. H. W. Klewitz, 'Das Ende des Reformpapsttums', Deutsches Archiv 3 (1939), 371-412.

58. As does Schmale, op. cit., pp. 215-19.

59. HC, pp. 512-13, 550-1 (JL 8374, 8426). The wording of the second of these letters implies that Anacletus had sent more letters to Diego than now survive, and that Diego had replied to one or more of them.

60. HC, pp. 509-11 (=JL 7415-7419).

61. HC, pp. 521-2 (=JL 7449).

62. HC, pp. 529, 549-50, 561-2 (=JL 7610, 7653, 7665). The last of these, sent from Pisa, is undated: it could have been dispatched at any time between the autumn of 1133 and the spring of 1137.

63. HC, pp. 526, 584-5.

64. See Zenker, op. cit., pp. 146-8 for a sketch of Guido's career. We shall hear more of him in ch. X.

65. HC, pp. 597-8; AHN 526/7.

66. HC, p. 298.

67. AC Toledo, cod. 42/21 fo. 66v; cod. 42/22 fo. 48r. For the context, see ch. VI.

68. HC, p. 309 (=JL 6877).

69. HC, p. 336 (=JL 6911).

70. L. Serrano, El obispado de Burgos y Castilla primitiva (Madrid, 1935), III, no. 82, p. 153.

71. HC, p. 381 (=JL 6912).

72. PUP, no. 21.

73. HC, pp. 322-3, 326-7.

74. HC, p. 339 (=JL 6920).

75. See ch. VI.

76. HC, p. 346.

77. JL 6931-4.

78. See for example the appendix 'Anglo-Papal contact 1100-35' in M. Brett, The English Church under Henry I (Oxford, 1975), pp. 234-46.

79. HC, pp. 290, 336, 394, 397, 400-1, 441-2, 444-5, 490, 509, 567. My earlier estimate (Episcopate, pp. 90-1) was too low.

80. HC, p. 381 (=JL 6912).