Sometimes you walk into history. And sometimes history quietly corrects you on the way out.

In August 997, the bells of Santiago de Compostela went silent. Almanzor (al-Mansur, “the Victorious”), the warlord who ruled the Caliphate of Córdoba in all but name, had marched his army hundreds of kilometres north. His campaigns were proclaimed as holy war, and this one was aimed at the shrine of the apostle himself. Bishop Pedro de Mezonzo had already emptied the city. On 10 August the army made camp outside it, and for eight days they tore Santiago apart. The church over the tomb was burned and pulled down, along with the monasteries, the hospital and the houses. Only the apostle’s tomb was spared, with guards set over it.

But Almanzor wanted trophies. The cathedral’s doors and bells were carried some 800 kilometres south to Córdoba on the shoulders of Christian captives. There, the bells that had called Santiago to prayer and kept the city’s hours were hung in the Great Mosque as lamps. The voice of St James’s church, turned into light for the mosque.

Then history turned. In June 1236, Ferdinand III of Castile (not Isabella and Ferdinand, who came more than 250 years later!) took Córdoba. According to the chronicler Lucas de Tuy, the king ordered the bells returned to Santiago, carried on the shoulders of Muslim captives. The same road, the same humiliation, the other way round.

And here’s where I have to confess. When I stood in the cathedral cloister beside two magnificent old bells, I was sure I was looking at Almanzor’s trophies. I wasn’t. Those are the cathedral’s old clock bells from the Berenguela tower, and one of them was cast in 1729 and weighs nearly two tonnes. No captive carried that to Córdoba. The bells of 997 were far smaller, small enough for teams of men to shoulder for weeks on end.

So what happened to the real ones? Nobody knows for certain. One account says the returned lamps were melted down and recast as new bells for Santiago. Another legend sends them to Toledo instead. Somewhere in that bronze, perhaps, the old voice of the city still rings.

I still think the cloister bells are worth the museum ticket. Just stand there knowing that the story they tell is even bigger than they are.

The Ancient Bells of Santiago

I’ve had complaints that my book, The Camino Ingles: 6 Days to Santiago has very little historical context, so in the latest version, I have added some cultural context. It has also been completely updated for 2020. Click the button below to get the book and escape!