In the eighth century no bishop seems to have existed in Salamanca; in the tenth, date of a partial reëstablishment of the see, seven prelates are mentioned; these did not, however, risk their skins by taking possession of their chair, but lived quietly in the north, either in Santiago--farther north they could not go!--or else in Leon and Burgos. The eleventh century is again devoid of any ecclesiastical news connected with the see of Salamanca; what is more, the very name of the city is forgotten until Alfonso VI. crossed the Guaderrama and fixed his court in Toledo. This bold step, taken in a hostile country far from the centre of the kingdom and from his base of operations, obliged the monarch to erect with all speed a series of fortresses to the north; as a result, Salamanca, Segovia, and Avila, beyond the Guaderrama Mountains, and Madrid to the south, were quickly populated by Christians.
This occurred in 1102; the first bishop _de modernis_ was Jeronimo, a French warrior-monk, who had accompanied his bosom friend el Cid to Valencia, had fought beside him, and had been appointed bishop of the conquered see. Not for any length of time, however, for as soon as el Cid died, the Moors drove the Christians out of the new kingdom, and the bishop came to Leon with the Cristo de las Batallas,--a miraculous cross of old Byzantine workmanship, supposed to have aided the Cid in many a battle,--as the only _souvenir_ of his stay in the Valencian see.
The next four or five bishops fought among themselves. At one time the city had no fewer than two, a usurper, and another who was not much better; the Pope deprived one of his dignity, the king another, the influential Archbishop of Santiago chose a third, who was also deposed--the good old times!--until at last one Berengario was appointed, and the ignominious conflict was peacefully settled.
The inhabitants of the city at the beginning were a strong, warlike medley of Jews (these were doubtless the least warlike!), Arabs, Aragonese, Castilian, French, and Leonese. Bands of these without a commander invaded Moorish territory, sacking and pillaging where they could. On one occasion they were pursued by an Arab army, whose general asked to speak with the captain of the Salamantinos. The answer was, "Each of us is his own captain!" words that can be considered typical of the anarchy which reigned in Spain until the advent of Isabel and Ferdinand in the fifteenth century.