According to D. Carlos, D. John could hope for nothing from the King but stingy rewards, limited ever by his envy, avarice and tyrannical deeds; he, on the other hand, would give D. John all a king's best friend could hope for, and he then offered, as if he owned them, the States of Milan or the Kingdom of Naples. D. John looked at him up and down, amazed, without knowing whether to wonder more at the blackness of the treason or the absurdity of the design. He understood, however, how useless and dangerous it would be to contradict D. Carlos openly, or to throw in his teeth, as he deserved, all the contempt and horror which his plan inspired.

So he chose a side attack, making D. Carlos see how difficult and dangerous an undertaking it was, the dreadful consequences to which it might lead in Flanders and Italy, and even among the restless Spanish Moors, the bad example of a son rising against his father, and the grave risk there was of discovery, so many people having been told by D. Carlos. The Prince had an answer for everything.

Everything, according to him, had been thought of and arranged, and it only remained for Garci Álvarez Osorio to exchange for money some letters of exchange he had brought from Seville, and for him, D. John, as General of the Sea, to give him a safe conduct, putting at the disposal of D. Carlos one of the galleys in Cartagena, and then to come with the rest to join D. Carlos in that part of Italy which he should designate.

This determined D. John. Seeing, as a Christian, a brother of the King, and as an honourable gentleman, that there was only one way of stopping such disasters, and in order to adopt it, he asked D. Carlos to give him twenty-four hours in which to think the matter over. This the Prince conceded reluctantly, as it was, according to him, necessary to profit by the absence of the King, who had gone to the Escorial three days before, and was to return to Madrid for the Feast of the Epiphany.

Very early the next day D. John started for the Escorial, where, as a loyal prince and an honourable gentleman, he told his brother the absurd plans and mischievous intentions of D. Carlos, to whom he explained his audience as a command from the King, who had sent for him to give him urgent orders about the galleys at Cartagena.

D. Carlos had no suspicions and continued his preparations, until the situation was complicated by a notable incident, very characteristic of the time. That year (1567) the general Jubilee granted by Pius V, in honour of his elevation to the Pontificate, was being celebrated, and to gain it he fixed the 28th of December, the Feast of the Holy Innocents.

On the 27th D. Carlos went late to the convent of St. JerÓnimo to confess and to gain the Jubilee the next day. It was already eight o'clock, and he went in a coach, with a very small retinue. It should be noted that the official and usual confessor of D. Carlos was Fr. Diego de Chaves, and that on that day he asked for some other brother.

The result was that this confessor would not give the Prince absolution, because he said that he harboured the mortal sin of hatred of a man, and that this hate would not end until he had killed him.

The brother, as we have said, refused absolution. The Prince said, "Father, make up your mind quickly." To which the friar answered, "Your Highness must consult the theologians."

D. Carlos got up very much put out, and sent his coach to Atocha to bring theologians, and fourteen came, as many as the coach, which was small, would hold, two by two. "And then," says the account of one of the Prince's attendants, who was there that night, "he sent to Madrid for Alvarado the Augustin, and for Trinitario, and the Prince disputed with each, and persisted that they should absolve him, even for killing a man who was on bad terms with him. And as all said they could not, they resolved, for the sake of the people, to give him an unconsecrated wafer at communion."

"Here all the theologians became upset, as other very deep things happened which I do not tell you. And as they were all there, and the negotiations were going so badly, the Prior of Atocha took the Prince apart, and with skill began to confess him and ask him the rank of the man that he wished to kill, and he answered that he was of high rank; but he could not drag the name from him (the Prince). The Prior deceived him by saying, 'Sir, say who it is that it will be possible to absolve you, according to your Highness's wish.' And then he said that it was the King, his father, whom he was on bad terms with and had to kill. The Prior very quietly said, 'Alone? or who do you think will help you?'

"In the end he remained without absolution or gaining the Jubilee, on account of his obstinacy. And all this ended at two o'clock in the night, and all the brothers left, very sad, especially his confessor, who went the next day to the Palace and to H.M., and told him at the Escorial all that had passed."

D. John of Austria's revelations painfully irritated Philip II; but he gave no sign by which his intentions could be divined or in any way modified the pious programme he had arranged for the festivals.

He kept D. John at the Escorial, and together they gained the Jubilee on the 28th, and together also on the same day they witnessed the JerÓnomite Fathers take possession of the provisional convent where they were to lodge until the sumptuous fabric of the monastery, then being built, was ready for them.

On the 6th they were present at the consecration of the provisional church, and on the 11th at the profession of a new monk; on that day the King sent a circular to the Superiors of all the convents in Madrid and its neighbourhood, ordering them to offer continual prayers that God might inspire him with skill and resolution in an affair of the greatest importance for the welfare of the kingdom.

It was also noticed that on those days more couriers came and went between Madrid and the Escorial, and that the King had more frequent and longer meetings with the lords of the Council.

On the 15th of January, 1568, D. Philip left the Escorial with his brother and came to sleep at the Pardo. D. Carlos heard of this, and sent an urgent message to his uncle to go secretly to the furze near the Palace with the Prior D. Antonio de Toledo, and that he would go there to speak to him.

D. John and the Prior waited for him in the balcony of the Palace, with the authorisation of the King, and from there saw D. Carlos enter the furze on horseback with five others. They went to meet him, and D. Carlos, with much anxiety, asked if the King was very much displeased at the bad example he had given the Court and town in not gaining the Jubilee on the day of the Holy Innocents.

Then the Prince took D. John apart and told him that Garci Álvarez Osorio had got the money together; that everything was ready for the morning of the 18th, and that nothing was wanting but the safe conduct which D. John was to give him to enable him to embark on the galleys at Cartagena, and a document which would oblige D. John, if he did not wish to follow at the moment, to do so at his call when he so ordered.

Driven into a corner, D. John answered that he was starting the next day, the 17th, for Madrid, with the King, and that they could there settle what was best.

D. Carlos went back to Madrid still of the same mind, and, not to lose time, sent to order eight post-horses for the morning of the 18th from the head of the post, Raimundo de Tassis.

Tassis, alarmed, answered the Prince that all the horses were on the road, but when they came he should be served. And he at once informed the King of the demand of D. Carlos, who reiterated his order again a few hours later. The terrified post-master sent all the horses he had out of Madrid, and hurried to the Pardo to tell the King. This happened on the night of the 16th, and Tassis arrived at the Pardo at daybreak on the 17th.

The same day D. Philip went to Madrid with D. John of Austria, without displaying any hurry or anxiety, and, as he always did, went straight to the Queen's apartments to greet her and his daughters.

Princess Juana was also waiting there for him, and, seeing him enter, took her goddaughter, the little Infanta DoÑa Catalina, from her governess, DoÑa Maria ChacÓn, and showed her to the King, that he might admire the tiny and pretty tooth which the child had cut during his absence. The Princess adored her godchild with all the enthusiasm and passion of a most devoted mother.

The Queen laughed at her sister-in-law's enthusiasm, and called her the "Portuguese," and presented the little elder Infanta, DoÑa Isabel Clara Eugenia, whom the Camarera Mayor, the Duquesa de Alba, then brought. The sad heart of D. Philip softened for a moment with that tenderness towards his daughters which no one would have expected in the severe monarch, and which the learned Gachard has made patent in his studies on these two illustrious Princesses, who did so much to add lustre to the House of Austria.

DoÑa Juana also made her brother D. John admire the little tooth, and at that moment D. Carlos came into the room to welcome and kiss the hand of the King, his father.

D. Carlos greeted him with apparent respect and pleasure, which D. Philip received with a good grace, no less well feigned. No one would have suspected, on seeing the royal family in such affectionate harmony, that such a horrible affliction hovered over them.

Princess Juana spoke of the banquet and ball she thought of giving the next day, the 19th, in honour of the birthday of her son D. Sebastian, the King of Portugal, and wishing, as usual, to draw D. Carlos towards the Court and its circles, and to wean him from the dark and bad ways he frequented, she asked him to arrange with D. John a solemn masquerade for that day, which, besides being the birthday of her son, was also his coming of age.

With the greatest aplomb the Prince promised, and D. John did the same, not being able to do otherwise, and the King gave his consent by nodding his head without saying a word.

They all left the Queen's room together, and then D. Carlos, taking D. John of Austria's arm, took him off to his rooms, which were in the "entresol" of the Palace, looking on the side now called "el Campo del Moro."

D. Carlos ordered the doors to be shut, and no one has ever known for certain what passed between the nephew and the uncle during the two hours they remained there.

At the end of this time the valets heard a noise inside, and the loud, manly voice of D. John of Austria, who shouted indignantly, "Keep there, your Highness."

Frightened, they opened the door, and saw D. John, looking furious, keeping the Prince at bay with his sword, who, livid with rage, was trying to attack D. John with sword and dagger.

The valet's account says that, "after this scene D. John went to his house." Perhaps D. John pretended to do so, to disarm D. Carlos's suspicion, but it is certain that he went straight to D. Philip and told him of the occurrence. The King then feared for D. John's life, and would not let him leave the castle. He sent and had a room prepared, where he made D. John sleep that memorable night.

Meanwhile D. Carlos, fearful that the King would wish to see him alone, went to bed, pretending to be ill. He was not mistaken; for soon afterwards D. Rodrigo de Mendoza brought an order from the King that D. Carlos should go up to his room. D. Carlos gave his pretended illness as an excuse, and, thinking the danger past, got up again at six o'clock; putting on a long overcoat, without dressing, and sitting in the warmth of the fire, he supped off a boiled capon. The mad Prince had not given up his plan for a minute, and more than ever persisted in his project of running away the next day at dawn.

For some time past D. Carlos had taken the most extraordinary precautions for his personal safety, above all while he was asleep. He had sent away the gentleman who, according to etiquette, should have slept in his room at night, and secured his door inside with a curious mechanism which he had had made by the French engineer Luis de Foix; it consisted of a series of springs which prevented the door opening unless D. Carlos pulled a long red silk cord which hung at the head of his bed.

He had also had an extraordinary weapon, which he himself had devised, and the construction of which he superintended, made by the same engineer.

He had read of the deed of the terrible Bishop of Zamora, D. Antonio de AcuÑa, who broke the head of the Alcaide of Simancas with a stone which he carried hidden in a leather purse, as if it were a breviary.

Enchanted with the idea, the Prince ordered de Foix to make a book composed of twelve pieces of very hard blue marble, six inches long by four inches wide, covered, as if they were bound, with two plates of steel masked with gold.

D. Carlos always had this disguised arm at hand, ready to break the head of anyone as the fancy might take him, an extra proof of the traitorous and perverse nature of the unlucky Prince.

Besides this, there was always an arquebus at the head of his bed, and an arsenal of powder and shot hidden in his wardrobe.

After supper D. Carlos looked through the letters and papers he had prepared, and went to bed at half-past nine, leaving by the side of his bed a naked sword and a loaded arquebus, and having an unsheathed dagger under his pillow.

Meanwhile all seemed to sleep in the royal castle; nevertheless, within its walls one of the most discussed and terrible events in history was preparing.

The King kept vigil in his room, and after eleven o'clock, one by one, there arrived, cautiously, the Prince de Évoli, the Duque de Feria, the Prior D. Antonio, and Luis Quijada. These were afterwards joined by two of the King's gentlemen, D. Pedro Manuel and D. Diego de AcuÑa, and to all of them D. Philip spoke "as never man spoke before," according to a document of the period, and showed them the hard and terrible necessity he saw of arresting and shutting up his son Prince Carlos.

The best way of carrying this out, without scandal or dangerous resistance, was then discussed, and the King proposed his plan, which was naturally accepted. At midnight they all descended by an inside staircase, on tiptoe, in the dark, cautiously, not to arouse the guard, almost trembling, as justice has to tremble sometimes, to prevent and surprise crime.

The Duque de Feria went first, with a dark lantern in his hand; the King followed, very pale, a cuirass under his clothes, a naked sword under his arm, and an iron helmet on his head. Behind him came all the rest, with naked swords, more to inspire terror and respect than because there was need to use them. Two of the King's servants, Santoyo and Bernal, with nails and hammers, and twelve guards with their lieutenant, also came.

In the Prince's ante-room they met his two gentlemen, D. Rodrigo de Mendoza and the Conde de Lerma, who were on duty, and the King gave them orders to let no one pass.

The door of the room opened without resistance, because the King had ordered the engineer de Foix secretly to make the Prince's springs useless.

Ruy GÓmez and the Duque de Feria approached the bed of D. Carlos with much caution; he was sleeping soundly, and without his knowing it they were able to put the arquebus and the unsheathed sword out of reach of his hand; the dagger they did not find.

D. Carlos then woke, and, sitting up frightened, called out in a sleepy, startled voice:

"Who goes there?"

"The Council of State," replied Ruy GÓmez.

The Prince then threw himself out of bed with great violence and wished to grasp his weapons; with this movement the dagger slipped down, and Ruy GÓmez picked it up from the ground. At the same time the Duque de Feria opened his lantern, and the Prince found himself face to face with his father.

He threw himself back and cried, all beside himself, putting both hands to his head, "What is this? Does Y.M. wish to kill me?"

The King answered very quietly that he wished to do the Prince no harm, but that he wished him and all the kingdom well. Then he ordered the servants to bring lights, to nail up the windows, and take away all arms, even to the fire-irons.

The Prince then realised that he had let himself be arrested, and in his shirt, as he was, he threw himself on the King, crying, "Kill me, Y.M., but do not arrest me, because it is a great scandal for the kingdom; and, if not, I shall kill myself."

To which the King answered, "Do not do this, which would be the act of a madman."

"I shall not do it as a madman, but because I am desperate at Y.M. treating me so ill."

Tearing out his hair, and gnashing his teeth in a way horrible to hear, he tried to throw himself headlong into the fire. The Prior seized his shirt, and between them they once more placed him in his bed, "and many other arguments passed," says the valet's account, "none of them were ended, it not being the time or place for this."

Meanwhile the King ordered that the papers of D. Carlos should be sought for and collected. Then appeared the steel casket with the prepared letters inside, the book of travels, the list of friends and enemies, and other documents, some silly, some culpable, all compromising.

The King then retired, taking the papers with him, having ordered and arranged, with the most scrupulous exactitude, everything referring as much to the service and care of the Prince as to his most strict restraint.

The consternation of the people of Madrid, on hearing the next day of the imprisonment of the Prince, knew no bounds.

"The most sane looked at each other," says Luis Cabrera de CÓrdoba, "sealing their lips with a finger and silence: and breaking it, some call (the King) prudent, others severe, because his laugh and his sword went together. The Prince, unlucky youth, had thought ill and talked with resentment, but had done nothing; without such extremes he could have punished his unwarned heir, as they do in other countries. Others say that he was a father, and very wise, and that much force drove and obliged him to this determination. Others, that princes are jealous of those who are to succeed them, and that cleverness, bravery, and great, generous natures displease them in their sons; and that if the King fears them, the subjects will fear them more, and that to secure them they should give them a share in the government with moderation. Others, that by a bad instinct heirs are spurred on by the desire to reign and be free, and that few loyal acts come from discontented heads, as the Prince wished to be with the Flemings."

The distress of the Queen and Princess Juana was very great, and in vain they both implored the King, over and over again, to be allowed to visit the Prince. D. John came that evening to the Queen's apartment, dressed carelessly in dark clothes, as a sign of mourning, but the King reproved him, and ordered him to attire himself as usual.

D. John of Austria never saw Prince Carlos again, or heard from the lips of D. Philip the slightest allusion to his unhappy son. These sad events drew the brothers together, and it must be confessed that D. Philip was at this time a real father to D. John.

At the beginning of May, 1568, he announced to D. John that the hour had come for him to take command of the galleys of Cartagena, first to meet and escort the fleet coming from the Indies, and then to clear the coasts of the Mediterranean of corsairs.

These pirates went far inland with the greatest effrontery, and it was known that their real leader and protector, Selim II, was having galleys and engines of war constructed with the intention of taking them to the Ionian Sea.

The news of the expedition prepared for D. John filled the young nobles with enthusiasm, as formerly the unlucky Maltese one had done, and the flower of them hastened to enlist under his banner.

D. Philip was pleased to see his brother's influence, which might be so useful to his political ends, and, in order to stimulate and inspire warlike ardour in these illustrious volunteers, divided the galleys among parties of four, giving the command of each to a captain, chosen from among them, who afterwards were commonly called "cuatraldos."

As lieutenant to D. John, D. Philip named no less a person than D. Luis de Requesens, Knight Commander of Castille, who was ambassador at Rome, and, as secretaries, Juan de Quiroga, already acting as such, and Antonio de Prado, a man of great parts, who was afterwards a statesman under Philip III.

Among the brilliant band of volunteers who followed D. John the most distinguished were D. Martin de Padilla, who was afterwards Governor of Castille and Captain-General of the Ocean; D. Pedro de Cervellon, D. Juan de ZÚÑiga, afterwards Conde de Miranda; D. Francisco de Rojas, afterwards MarquÉs de Poza and President of the Treasury; the brothers D. JerÓnimo and D. Antonio de Padilla, D. Luis de CÓrdoba, D. Juan de GÚzman, D. Alonso Portocarrero, D. Rodrigo de Benavides, D. Mendo Rodriguez de Ledesma; D. Hernando de Gamboa, D. JosÉ VÁzguez de AcuÑa, D. Hernando de Prado, D. Pedro Zapata de Calatayud, and D. Hernando de Zanguera.

All these gentlemen accompanied D. John to take leave of the King, who was at Aranjuez, and were received with much attention by all the Court. On saying good-bye D. Philip handed to his brother, for his guidance, the following document, written by his own hand, notable for the great maxims for the rule and conduct of a prince which it contains, and for the fraternal solicitude which it shows on the part of Philip II towards his brother:

"Brother: Besides the instructions which you have been given respecting the appointment of Captain-General of the Ocean, and its powers and duties: for the great love I have for you, and also that in your person, life and manners, you should possess the estimation and good name persons of your rank should have, with this end it has occurred to me to give you the following instructions. First, because the foundation and beginning of all great things and of all good counsels is God, I charge you much, that as a good and real Christian, you take this as the beginning and foundation of all your doings and enterprises, and that you dedicate to God, as your chief aim, all your business and affairs, from whose hand comes all the success of your undertakings, negotiations and labours. And that you will take great care to be very devout and God-fearing, and a good Christian, not only in reality, but also in appearance and demonstration, setting all a good example, that by this means and on this foundation God may show you grace and your name and fame may always be increasing.

"Be very particular to go to Confession, especially at Christmas and Easter and on other solemn days, and to receive the Holy Sacrament, if you are in a place where you are able to do so; every day, being on land, hear Mass; and perform your devotions with fervour at stated times, as a good and very Catholic Christian.

"Truth and the keeping of one's word and promise are the basis of credit and esteem on which are founded and built up friendly intercourse and confidence. This is required, and is the more necessary for great ones, and those who have important public duties, because on their truth and integrity depend faith and public safety. Be sure that in this you take great care and pains, that it should be known and understood everywhere that trust may be placed in what you say, as besides its affecting public matters and your appointment, it matters much to your own honour and esteem.

"Use justice with impartiality and rectitude, and when necessary with the severity and example the case requires: as regards this be firm and constant; and also when the quality of persons or things permit it, be pitiful and mild, as these are very appropriate virtues in people of your rank.

"Flattery and words leading to it are ignoble in those who use them, and a shame and offence to those to whom they are addressed. To those who make these professions, and treat you thus, show by your face and manner that they may understand how little acceptable to you such conversation is. Do the same to those who in your presence speak ill of the honours and persons of the absent, that such conversation should not take place, because, besides being prejudicial and an injury to the third person, it tends to turn them from your authority and estimation. You must live and act with great prudence as regards all that concerns the uprightness of your private life, because forgetfulness of this, besides being an offence to God, will bring about inconveniences, and cause a great stumbling-block to the work and fulfilment of what you have to do, and will entail other risks which are dangerous and of evil consequence and example. Excuse yourself, when possible, from games, especially cards and dice, on account of the example you should set others, and because, in gambling, it is not possible to act with the moderation and restraint which is required in persons of your rank. And it often happens that, through gambling, men in high positions lose their temper and dishonour themselves. I charge you, that if at any time you play to amuse yourself, you should preserve the decorum due to your person and authority.

"Swearing, without the greatest necessity which obliges one to do so, is very wrong for every man and woman, and takes away good opinion, but, above all, in men of position, in whom it is very indecent and goes against their credit, dignity, and authority, so I charge you to be very careful about swearing, and never to swear by God or other rare oaths, which neither are nor should be used by people of your rank.

"As I wish that your table, food and way of living should be suitable, use the decency, ostentation and cleanliness that is proper; but also it is well that there should be much moderation and temperance, because of the example that you have set to all, and because of the profession of arms which you have to follow, and because it is good, and it is well for you to show moderation and temperance, because your table has to settle the rule and order for the rest.

"Be careful not to say anything rude or injurious to anyone, that your tongue may be used to honour and do favours, and to dishonour no one. You should punish those who err or commit excesses, being just to all. This punishment should not come from your mouth with haughty words, or from your hand. And also be very careful that in your usual ways and talk you use modesty and temperance without ill-temper or arrogance, which are things that detract much from a person's authority. And at the same time have a care that your conversation and that which takes place in your presence is decent and straightforward, as is required by your rank and person.

"Also be very courteous in your intercourse with every sort of person, being very affable, quiet and gracious, maintaining the decency and decorum of your person and office, because affability gains people's affection, but also preserves the reputation and respect that are due to you. In winter, and at other times, when you are not at sea, but on land, do not neglect the business of your appointment, to which you should pay great attention; occupy yourself in good exercises, especially those of arms; in which also those gentlemen who reside with you should occupy themselves, avoiding by these exercises, expenses, ostentation and excesses, and that all should be prepared for the real exercise of arms. The use of these will make the said gentlemen dexterous and expert in any occasion that may offer. And also by this means the said expenses and extravagance in vesture, clothes and everyday life are avoided, giving an example by what you yourself and your servants wear.

"This is what it has occurred to me to remind you about, confident that you will act in an even better manner than what I have told you.

"It is for you only, and for this, goes, written by my hand.

D. John arrived at Cartagena quite at the end of May, and found, waiting for him there, his lieutenant, the Knight Commander D. Luis de Requesens, who lodged in his house. By the King's orders, D. Álvaro de BazÁn, who was afterwards first MarquÉs de Santa Cruz, D. Juan de Cardona and the veteran Gil Andrada were also waiting for him as councillors.

They took him first to visit the galleys anchored in the port, and D. John was as much pleased as surprised at the "Capitana" which his brother the King had had prepared for him, with all the improvements of the time.

It was a galley of the Venetian type, with sixty oars, as easy to navigate as it was strong to attack or resist. The hulk had been built in Barcelona of Catalonian pine, which is the best timber for ships in Asia, Africa or Europe, and the magnificent poop in Seville according to the designs of the painter and architect Juan Balesta Castello, surnamed the Bergamesco. The keel measured 468 "palms" and the deck 492 "palms," and it stood 72 "palms" above the water.

It was painted white and red, and the stern was adorned with fine pictures and friezes and ornaments, all symbolical of the qualities a great captain should possess.

By the bowsprit there were large pictures divided by two spaces; the centre one represented the capture of the "Golden Fleece" by Jason, who, according to Pliny, was the first man to sail in "nao prolongada," the right-hand picture represented Prudence and Temperance, the left-hand one Fortitude and Justice, and in the dividing tapestries were displayed on one the god Mars, with the sword of Vulcan and the shield of Pallas, and this motto—Per saxa, per undas—and in the other the god Mercury, with his finger on his lips, as one commanding silence, with this legend—Opportune.

From here extended on each side great chains of the "Golden Fleece," interlaced with masks and other symbolical pictures, which reached to the prow, the figurehead being a powerful Hercules, leaning on his club. Over the stern shone the great lantern, emblem of command, of wood and bronze, all gilt, crowned with a statue of Fame.

On the 2nd of June the first council presided over by D. John was held, the Knight Commander D. Luis de Requesens, D. Álvaro de BazÁn, D. Juan de Cardona, and Gil Andrada being present. It was the first council that D. John had presided over, and without showing self-sufficiency unsuitable to his years, or the timidity very natural to them, he at once gave proof of one of the best qualities a leader can possess, in order to direct and govern: To know how to ask and how to listen. The council decided to set sail without loss of time, to fall in with the fleet coming from the Indies, and escort it as far as Sanlucar de Barrameda; then to go and follow the corsairs along all the Mediterranean coast to the ports of France and Italy.

The embarkation and departure were fixed for the 4th, and it was a brave sight that the beautiful port of Cartagena offered that day. The thirty-three galleys which composed the fleet were dressed with the magnificence of the period, streamers hung from the lower decks, pendants from the yards, banners at the stern; and the most beautiful of all, the "Capitana," flying, by D. John's orders, as well as the royal ensign, the standard of Our Lady of Guadeloupe.

Very early that morning D. John confessed and received communion, and at nine o'clock went on board the "Capitana," followed by a great retinue. Then all the galleys burst forth with salvos of artillery, and music of drums, and trumpets and clarions and Moorish horns; the crews manned the rigging, the people in feluccas and on the mole, crowded so together that many fell into the water, cheered wildly, and D. John, the great D. John that DoÑa Magdalena had made of the humble JeromÍn, held up his head as if among the smoke of the powder he smelt the perfume of the glory which was coming to meet him, and felt his chest swell and his heart expand as if for the first time he realised Heaven's high mission for him, which was announced not long afterwards to the world by the great Pontiff Pius V, in these words:

Fuit homo missus a Deo, cui nomen erat Joannes.

(There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.)

The expedition lasted until the middle of September, when the fleet returned to Barcelona to winter in that port, according to the custom of those times, except in the case of great urgency or grave peril, during the months of October, November, December and January.

In this expedition, however, there were neither dangers, nor battles, nor rich and abundant prizes. But there was for D. John (and this was Philip II's idea in giving him the command) deep and practical instruction in the working of a fleet and of disembarking an army; a very useful apprenticeship in the way of combining and directing these united forces, and a good opportunity to display to great and small those gifts of energy and courtesy which make the perfect leader, and with which with so unsparing a hand God had endowed D. John of Austria.

His sure, sound judgment, his prudence in deciding, his frankness and courage in performing, and his firmness and energy in reprimanding and punishing revealed to all in the new leader the not unworthy son of Charles V; and his noble magnanimity towards the vanquished, his gracious compassion for the unfortunate, and his respectful charity towards all the poor and miserable, be they ever so low and vile, also revealed the former JeromÍn who marshalled DoÑa Magdalena's poor people in the courtyard of Villagarcia, cap in hand, and who had learnt from that noble woman to see and respect in the poor the image of Our Lord.

Never, she used to say, does a crucifix cease to be a symbol of our redemption; even though evil hands have profaned it and thrown it on the dust-heap, it will always be capable of being cleaned and polished, and always merits the same veneration. In the same way, no man ceases to be the "redeemed of Christ"; and, however tarnished by infamy and stained by crime, is always susceptible of repentance and pardon, and will always merit the respect appertaining to that which has cost the blood of God.

This expedition, then, made firm the pedestal on which had been erected the great figure of D. John of Austria, and thenceforward he was looked up to by the captains as a leader, loved like a father by the soldiers and crews of the ships; the poor galley slaves, tied to the hard bench, saw in him a sort of archangel who descended to the purgatory of their prison to ease their work and raise their hopes, and never throwing their offences in their teeth.

The death of Prince Carlos was announced to D. John when he disembarked at Barcelona; it had occurred two months before on the 24th of July, the Eve of St. James's Day, while D. John was at sea. This news affected him greatly, not so much for the death of the Prince, which was holy and Christian, and the best thing that could have happened to the unlucky man, but more for the sorrow he imagined it would cause to D. Philip as King and father.

These sad warnings of the uncertainty of life made D. John remember the promise he had made DoÑa Magdalena de Ulloa to retire for a while to the convent of Abrojo to meditate in solitude on the eternal truths, and this seemed to him the best opportunity of fulfilling his word.

The King gladly gave permission, and D. John set out for Madrid and from thence to Valladolid, where DoÑa Magdalena de Ulloa was waiting for him. There the sad news reached him that his sister-in-law, the good and gentle Queen, DoÑa Isabel of the Peace, had died on the 3rd of October (1568); this fresh sorrow spurred D. John on to put into execution his design of retiring to the convent of Abrojo, with only two valets and the secretary Juan de Quiroga.

The monastery of Scala-Coeli, commonly called "of Abrojo," from the wood of that name in the midst of which Alvar Deaz de Villacreses founded it, was a convent of bare-footed Franciscans, situated in this thicket, half a league from Valladolid. The Kings of Castille had much veneration for it and made it a royal fortress, surrounding it with towers and battlemented walls, and by the church they kept for themselves a humble lodging where they retired for certain religious solemnities and in their times of mourning and sorrow.

There was, in D. John's day, a very devout servant of God, called Fr. Juan de Calahorra, at Abrojo, who had known him as JeromÍn in his youthful days, and had confessed him and often directed him in Valladolid and Villagarcia.

D. John much esteemed his holiness and gentle ways, and wished to keep the brother at his side as confessor and spiritual director during all the time he was in retreat, which was more than two months.

But during this time alarming news reached the solitude of the convent of Abrojo of the rebellion of the Moors of Granada, and Juan de Quiroga, who, like all those who knew him well, simply adored D. John and recognised his military qualities, which only needed scope in which to expand and triumph, advised him to beg the King to give him the command of the expedition.

D. John was fired with the idea, but first desired to consult Fr. Juan de Calahorra and DoÑa Magdalena de Ulloa, who came to see him several times during those two months. The brother much applauded the project, and as if moved by a spirit of prophecy, said to D. John that not only would he obtain the command, but that it would procure a great name for him throughout Europe.

As to DoÑa Magdalena, she equally approved of the idea, and insisted on its realisation with even more warmth than Juan de Quiroga or the brother; according to her, the indolent luxury of the Court was always harmful to D. John's youth, and only the responsibilities and hardships of war could keep the proper balance of his ardent nature.

And expressing herself more freely to Fr. Juan de Calahorra, the discreet lady said, "As only the King can marry him to a princess, let us meanwhile betroth him to war; masking her ugliness with the cosmetics of glory."

Satisfied by this, D. John posted to Madrid, and before presenting himself to his brother D. Philip, sent him the following letter:

"Y.C.R.M. The obligation I am under to Y.M., and my natural faith for and love for you, make me always tell you what seems to me suitable, with all submission. I informed Y.M. of my arrival in Madrid, and the reason why I came, and I thought that it was not necessary to worry Y.M. with papers of so little importance as mine. Now I have heard of the state of the rebellion of the Moors at Granada, and how hard pressed the city is, and the rumour is certainly true; as the vindication of Y.M.'s reputation, honour and greatness, lowered by the impudence of these rebels, is very near my heart, I cannot help breaking the obedience and submission I have always shown to the will of Y.M., by telling you my own and begging Y.M. (as it is the honour of kings to be constant in their favours and to make men by their hand), as I am Y.M.'s handiwork, to use me to apply your punishment, and you know that you can trust me more than others, and that no one can better inflict it on these rascals than I can. I confess that they are unworthy of much notice and that someone to punish them is all that is required; but as people, however vile, when they are strong become proud, and as they say that this is not wanting in the present case, it is necessary to deprive them of power: the MarquÉs de Mondejar is not strong enough for this (because they say that he disagrees with the President and that he is obeyed with a bad grace) and it is advisable to send someone who, like me, is naturally inclined to such work, and I am as obedient to the royal will of Y.M. as clay in the potter's hand, and it would seem to me a grave offence against my love, my inclination, and what I owe to Y.M. if I do not fulfil this duty; but well I know that those who serve Y.M. and are under your royal hand hold all securely and can ask for nothing further, but this is no reason why this action should be blamed, it should rather be esteemed. If I gain my wish, it will be sufficient reward. For this I came from Abrojo; which I should not have presumed to do without an express order from Y.M. except on such important service for Y.M. Our Lord keep the C. and R. person of Y.M.

"From the inn, the 30th of December, 1568. From Y.M.'s handiwork and most humble servant who kisses your royal hand.

It is certainly extraordinary that a king, so well informed and cautious as Philip II, did not foresee at once the terrible consequences which the rebellion of the Moors of Granada in 1568 might have for Spain and for all Christendom. And it is the more surprising considering that all nations, alarmed from the beginning, never removed their eyes off that corner of the Alpujarras and took precautions according as the defeat or triumph of the rebels suited their interests. The rebels triumphant and the shores of Andalucia open to the "Berberiscos," Moors and Turks who favoured and encouraged them, would make realisable the treasured dream of Selim II of subjugating Spain, a not impossible task for the formidable power of the Turk at that time.

The rebellion had been well prepared beforehand, but it broke out suddenly, as flames fanned by the gentlest wind may burst out from a heap of dry wood which has long lain on embers.

It was whispered in Granada that the Moors of the Albaicin had joined with those of the Vega and the Alpujarras to invade the town and behead the old Christians, and it was held for certain that they were in treaty with the Kings of Algiers and Tunis and Selim's Turks to raise their standards and make over the kingdom to them. All in Granada was consequently suspicion, want of confidence and of trust: houses shut up, shops deserted, commerce with the neighbouring places interrupted and the people always nervous and cautious, taking refuge every moment in the Alhambra and the churches, as being the strongest places.

Things were in this state on the 16th of April, 1568, Easter Eve; the night was closing in, dark and rainy, when between eight and nine o'clock suddenly the bell of the fortress of the Alhambra began to ring the alarm furiously. Fear was everywhere, which was even more increased by hearing the sentinel who rang cry, terrified, "Christians, save yourselves. Look out for yourselves, Christians! This night you are to be beheaded."

The confusion was dreadful; half-dressed women threw themselves even from the windows; men came out buttoning their jackets and clothes and trooped to charge the arquebuses and get ready the crossbows. The brothers of St. Francis arrived at the square all armed with arquebuses, and other friars formed up before the "Audiencia Real" in a company with pikes and halberds.

There also hurried up, each one as he could, the Corregidor, the President of the Chancellery, D. Pedro Deza, and the Conde de Tendella, Captain-General in the absence of his father the MarquÉs de Mondejar, and then it was known to be a false alarm.

The alguacil Bartolme de Santa Maria, who was on guard, had sent four soldiers at nightfall to the tower of the Aceituno on the top of the hill on which the suburb of the Albaicin was situated; the night was extremely dark; the soldiers had torches of esparto grass to light them, and arriving at the foot of the tower, the ascent to which was open and difficult, those who first gained the summit waved their torches to give light to those who were climbing up, and when they had arrived, threw the torches down. The watchman on the Vela tower, seeing this movement of lights and thinking that the Moors of the Albaicin were making "almenares," that is signals to those of the Vega from the tower of the Aceituno, hastened to ring the tocsin; which showed the state of excitement of those souls and how much they certainly feared from one moment to another that the Moors intended to slay the Christians.

This simple explanation did not quiet the frightened people, and the crowd began to attack the Albaicin and to be beforehand with the Moors by killing them. So the Corregidor, with gentlemen and other trustworthy persons, then guarded the lanes which mounted up to the Albaicin to impede the passage of the crowd. But nothing would have stopped the pillage and bloodshed, if a violent storm of thunder and lightning had not come at that moment to clear the streets and damp the fury of the citizens.

Meanwhile all seemed to sleep in the Albaicin; but behind the barred doors and shut windows the Moors were watching in ambush, prepared for defence, and, knowing that night the risk they ran if they let the Christians be beforehand, resolved to hasten the atrocious undertaking that they were meditating. They met in the house of a wax chandler of the Albaicin named Adelet, and there discussed their doubts and laid their plans.

They decided to strike the blow on New Year's Day and not at Christmas as they had intended, because there existed a prophecy that the Moors would regain Granada on the same day as that on which the Christians took it, which was the 1st of January, 1492. It was determined to make a register among the farms of the Vega and the villages of Decrin and Orgiba of 8000 men, who were to be ready, at a signal made to them from the Albaicin, to attack the town by the gate of the Vega, wearing coloured caps and Turkish head-dresses so as to inspire confidence in some and terror in others, passing themselves off as Turks or Berbers who had come to help the Moors.

This register was well filled by two saddle-makers, who, making a pretext of their trade, went through all these places without awaking anyone's suspicions. They also enrolled among the mountains another 2000 picked men, who, hidden in a bed of reeds, should wait the signal of the Albaicin to scale the wall of the Alhambra, which looks towards the Generalife, with seventeen ladders which were being made in Quejar and Quentan; they were ladders of hempen rope with rungs of wood so wide that three men could easily mount at the same time. The attack which was to be made on Granada from outside being arranged, they then settled that which the Moors of the Albaicin were to make from within. They divided themselves into three parties each with a head. Miguel Acis with the inhabitants of the parishes of St. Gregory, St. Christopher and St. Nicholas and a flag of crimson silk with a silver half-moon and a fringe of gold were to take the gate of Frax el Leuz on the top of the Albaicin; Diego Miqueli with the dwellers of St. Salvador, St. Elizabeth and St. Luis and a yellow silk flag the square of Bib-el-Bonut; and Miguel Moragas with the people of St. Michael, San Juan de los Reyes, and St. Peter and St. Paul and a flag of turquoise-blue damask the gate of Guadix.

When united all were to fall first on the Christians who lived on the Albaicin, beheading them without truce or pity. Then the first group would descend to the town to the prisons of the Holy Office to release the Moorish prisoners, killing and burning all in their path. The second group was to go to the town prisons to liberate the prisoners, then to murder the Archbishop and burn his palace. The third group was to attack the Royal Courts, murder the President, and set free the Chancery prisoners, all reuniting in the square of Bibarrambla, whither the 8000 Moors of the Vega were also to repair. From there they would go all over the city, as it seemed best, to put everything to fire and sword. The principal instigator of these plans was the sanguinary Farax Abenfarax, an African renegade, of the house of the Abencerrajes, a bandit of the kind the Moors call "monfies." To this fierce and brutal man the Moorish conspirators entrusted the work of making known this decree in the Alpujarras, and the summoning of a numerous assembly to elect a king, assuring them that from that moment the choice of the Alpujarras should be confirmed in the Albaicin.

This chosen man was D. Hernando de Valor, a very rich Moor of the Alpujarras, a descendant of Mahomet through the families of Aben-Humeyas and Almanzores, Kings of CÓrdoba and Andalucia. D. Hernando's ancestors, as they lived in a place in the mountains called Valor, had taken the name. He was a youth of twenty-four, swarthy, with scanty beard, big black eyes, eyebrows that joined, and a very fine figure; sensual, vindictive, sly and false, and, as he showed himself later, extremely wicked.

He was elected according to the ancient ceremony of the Kings of Andalucia, widowers at one end, those going to be married at the other, the married on one side, the women on the other: in the midst the priest, an "alfaqui," who read an ancient Arab prophecy, that a youth of royal lineage who was baptized and a heretic to his law, because in public he professed that of the Christians, should liberate his people.

They all shouted that these signs were found united in D. Hernando; the alfaqui assured them that according to his observations the courses of the stars testified to the same thing and hastened to clothe him in rich purple, and to put round his neck and shoulders a coloured badge, like a sash, and on his head a crown with a cap also of purple. They spread four flags on the ground, for the four quarters of the world, and D. Hernando prayed, leaning over them, with his face to the east, and swearing to die in his law and his kingdom, defending them and his vassals. Then he lifted one foot and, as a sign of general obedience, Farax Abenfarax prostrated himself in the name of all and kissed the ground where the new king had stood. Then he was lifted up on their shoulders and all shouted, "May God exalt Mahomet Aben-Humeya, King of Granada and of CÓrdoba."

This act made him King, and he named officers and gave appointments, among others that of Chief Magistrate to Farax Abenfarax and that of Captain-General to his uncle D. Fernando el Zaguer, called in Arabic Aben Jauher. He sent his ambassadors to the Kings of Algiers and Tunis, notifying his election and asking for brotherly help: to which they replied with great promises and demonstrations, offering to send galleys with men, arms, and provisions, which should be known by their red-dyed sails.

Meanwhile the month of December had arrived and Farax Abenfarax went secretly to Granada, leaving the sedition prepared behind him, like a train of powder which can be fired in a second when the moment arrives.

But the covetousness and ill-contained hatred of the Moors took fire before the time. On the 28th of December seven clerks of the Courts of Ujijar of Albacete set out for Granada guided by a Moor; they were going to spend Christmas with their wives and were taking a large quantity of fowls, chickens, honey, fruits and money.

Entering a vineyard at the boundary of Poqueira, they met, lying in wait for them, a band of armed Moors, who spoiled them of everything and put them to a cruel death. One called Pedro de Medina escaped with the guide, and they went to raise the alarm in Albacete de Orgivar. The same day five squires of Motril, also going to Granada with Christmas presents, met with a similar fate. That night there arrived to sleep at Cadiar the captain Diego de Herrera with his brother-in-law Diego de Hutado Docampo, of the order of Santiago, and fifty soldiers who were carrying arquebuses for the fort of Adra. D. Fernando el Zaguer, Captain-General and uncle of the new King, was hiding in the place, and he arranged with the other conspirators this blackest treason. He made all his neighbours give hospitality to one soldier, and at midnight, at a preconcerted signal, beheaded them all, from the captain downwards, so that only three remained to return to Adra.

These tidings did not alarm the authorities of Granada as they should have done; on the other hand, the Moors of the Albaicin mistrusting them, and fearing lest the hasty rashness of their brothers in the country should have compromised their plans, hastened to send messengers everywhere to say that nothing was to be done without fresh orders from the Albaicin, which was, according to them, the head-quarters.

But the impetuous Farax was not of this mind, and thinking, on the contrary, that everything would be lost if the events were not pushed forward, decided to enter the Albaicin that same night and either rouse the Moors or compromise them.

He then recruited as best he could 180 men from the nearest villages, and with them went round Granada, defying the cold and the snow which fell that night, the 25th of December, a Saturday, the first day of Christmas.

Punctually at twelve o'clock he reached the gate of Guadix, which was in the wall of the Albaicin; breaking down a mud wall, closed by a small door, with pikes and implements that they had taken by force from some mills on the Darro, they entered the town and went straight to his house, joining the parish church of St. Elizabeth, leaving his people to guard the door, wearing coloured Turkish caps and over them white gauze head-dresses, so that they might appear to be Turks.

Farax summoned the principal leaders of the rebellion there and tried to persuade them of the necessity of rising as one man that same night; but they of the Albaicin, false and disloyal even to their own brothers, thinking that enough had already been done to frighten the Christians without further exposing their lives or properties, excused themselves on the score of lack of time and of men, as of the 8000 men who were to accompany him he had only brought 180.

Then Farax, in a fury and mad with rage, insulted them, and, two hours before dawn, assembled his people and with horns, drums and "dulzainos," went through all the streets of the Albaicin, giving mournful cries. They carried two unfurled flags, between which went Farax Abenfarax, a lighted candle in his hand, the white Turkish head-dress stained and the thick, unkempt beard covered with fresh gore. He was small, fat, with an enormous stomach and such long, powerful arms that they seemed deformed. The sight of him certainly inspired terror in the flickering light of the candle; when he stopped from time to time he threw back his enormous head, turned up his bloodshot eyes and cried in Arabic, in a hoarse and mournful voice, "There is no God but the one God, and Mahomet is his prophet. All Moors who wish to revenge the injuries which Christians have done to their law and persons will be revenged by joining this banner, because the King of Algiers and the Cherif, whom God exalt, favour us and have sent all these people and those who are waiting for us up there."

And all the rest answered in a chorus, "Well! Well! Come! Come! as our hour has arrived and all the land of the Moors has risen."

Nobody, however, responded to the call, nor did a single door or window open, nor was any noise heard, as if the quarter was a real city of the dead. Only, they say, an old man shouted to them from a housetop, "Brothers! Go with God, you are few and come out of season."

They reached the square of Bib-el-Bonut, where was the house of the Jesuits, brought there by the Archbishop D. Pedro Guerrero, and called by name for the famous Padre Albotodo, who was of Moorish origin, insulting him and calling him a renegade dog, who, being the son of Moors, had made himself the alfaqui of the Christians, and as they could not break the door, which was strong and well barred, they contented themselves with destroying a wooden cross which was placed over it.

Now the bells of Salvador began to sound the alarm, because the Canon Horozo, who lived at the back of the sacristy, had got in by a hidden door and was ringing them. Farax then returned to the slope by which the tower of the Aceituno is reached, and from there made another proclamation; and as nobody flocked here either, he began to insult those of the Albaicin, crying, "Dogs! Cowards! You have deceived the people and do not wish to fulfil your promise." And with this outburst he left, as dawn had come, and was lost in the distance amid the tempest, like the coming and going of the threatening storm which discharges itself elsewhere.

Next day the hypocritical Moors of the Albaicin descended to the Alhambra and begged the MarquÉs de Mondejar to help and protect them against the "monfies" who the night before had come to their quarter inciting them to rebel, and putting to the test their loyalty to religion and the King, endangering their lives and property. The MarquÉs gave more credit to their words than they deserved, and these bad men remained satisfied that they had unchained the storm without risk to themselves. In truth the storm was afterwards let loose, fierce and terrible, as few other in history.

In less than a fortnight the Moors of Farax had burned more than 300 churches, destroying their images, profaning the Blessed Sacrament, and killing more than 4000 Christians, men, women and children, putting them to such dreadful deaths and refined tortures that they find no parallels in the annals of the martyrs. And it was a great marvel and glory that not one of these victims apostatised, but all died with the name of our Lord and His Holy Mother on their lips; which so exasperated these true Mahomedans that to avoid these saintly cries, which sounded as blasphemies to their impious ears, they filled the victims' mouths with gunpowder and lighted it. The renegade Farax Abenfarax ordered these cruelties, and the new King Aben-Humeya took such advantage of them, that in a short time he found himself master of more than 300 villages in which he proclaimed Mahomedanism; the leader of more than 20,000 men who acclaimed him King, and having within his reach the port of Almeira, which, as in other times Gibraltar, could well be the key of all Spain.

Then Philip II really grasped the situation, and to stifle the rebellion and do away with the rivalry between the MarquÉses de Mondejar and de los VÉlez, so dangerous before such formidable enemies, he sent his brother D. John of Austria to Granada.

D. John of Austria arrived on the 12th of April, 1568, at Hiznaleuz, where he halted to arrange his solemn entry on the next day into Granada, which was only five leagues off. He was accompanied by a great number of gentlemen, who formed his suite, and at the head of them was Luis Quijada, placed at D. John's side by the King, as adviser and counsellor. The Duque de Sesa, who also had received the King's orders to help D. John, in the same way as Luis Quijada, was to follow in a few days. The same day the MarquÉs de Mondejar came, with many captains and kinsmen, to visit D. John; he stayed the night at Hiznaleuz to report about the state of the war, and went back early in the morning to Granada, to fill his post in the solemn reception.

The King had written very minute details to the President, D. Pedro Deza, notifying even how many of the officials of the Courts and Chapter were to go to meet his brother. But the King could not regulate the enthusiasm of the neighbours, or the joy of the troops, some of whom had become slack through the indolence of the MarquÉs de Mondejar, and others discontented through the harshness and severity of the MarquÉs de los VÉlez. So there was universal hope and joy that day in Granada, and all went to meet the new leader through the fields of the Vega, which were as fresh and as full of sunshine and flowers as were their hopes.

The first to set out was the Conde de Tendilla, eldest son of Mondejar, and he reached the village of Alboloto, a league and a half from Granada; with him were 200 men, 100 of the troop of Tello Gonzalo de Aguilar, and 100 of his own, whose lieutenant was Gonzalo ChacÓn, shortly afterwards the hero of a certain noisy adventure in the capital. The latter were all finely turned out in Moorish costume, the others wearing crimson silk and satin in the Spanish fashion, and all well armed with cuirasses, helmets, shields and lances, as if they wished to show by their dress that it was a day of rejoicing though a time of war. In the same manner came D. John and his men; he wore a breastplate, shoulder-piece, and gorget of burnished steel, garnished with golden nails, "cuxotes" or wide breeches of cloth of silver and gold, over mulberry-coloured silk, caught in by strings of pearls; crimson stockings, high white leather boots with golden spurs, cuffs and ruff of rich Flemish point, and a high hat of cut velvet with a tuft of feathers, fastened with a magnificent jewel of emeralds; on his breast hung the Golden Fleece, and on his left arm he wore a crimson cockade, the badge of his command, which was afterwards changed for a flowing red sash. They met at Alboloto and exchanged compliments, and together returned to Granada, forming a brilliant squadron. First came D. John of Austria between Luis Quijada and the Conde de Miranda, behind them followed the gentlemen and the troops. Meanwhile, at the Royal Hospital, outside the gates, were waiting the President D. Pedro Deza, the Archbishop, and the Corregidor; the first had brought four judges and the magistrates; the second four canons and the dignitaries of the Chapter; and the Corregidor four aldermen and their deputies.

These were those specified by the King in his letter to D. Pedro Deza, but the entire nobility of the town, the principal citizens and the whole neighbourhood were also assembled, without anyone being able or wishing to stop them. The Moors of the Albaicin, discarding their own dress for that prescribed by the much-discussed decree, came from all parts, mixing with their neighbours, making false sounds of joy and gladness, which, according to the subsequent declaration of some, were mingled with curses under their breath on D. John and the Christians in Arabic. The crowd stretched from the gate of Elvira to the stream of Beyro, where the reception was to take place; in the plain of this name were drawn up all the infantry, which formed a body of 10,000 men, the MarquÉs de Mondejar at their head. When D. John came in sight, the President and the Archbishop pressed forward to the stream, riding powerful mules with fine trappings, followed by their friends and the Corregidor on horseback with his following, and behind them all the gentlemen and citizens. The first to alight was the President, who very humbly made his compliments to D. John, who promptly threw himself off his horse, receiving the President, hat in hand, in his arms, where he held him a while. He did the same to the Archbishop, and then passed before him, according to their seniority, the judges and the Alcaldes, the dignitaries of the Chapter, the Corregidor and the notable citizens. The President, standing on D. John's right hand, presented them all by name, and to each he said something kind or appropriate, and pleased them all; as besides his natural good heart, which made D. John courteous without affectation or study, he possessed a priceless quality for princes, that of making himself sympathetic and winning affection at first sight.

This ceremony over, Luis Quijada and the Conde de Miranda passed in front of D. John, to leave their places at his right and left hand to the President and Archbishop. In this way they walked to the town, with an incredible crowd of people who filled all the fields. As the suite came up to the first rows of the troops formed up in the plains of Beyro, all the bells of the town began pealing, and the drums to roll; trumpets and clarions sounded, and the arquebuses were fired without intermission, making an impressive salute, the thick smoke of which covered everything as with a transparent cloud, giving to the manly figure of D. John something warlike and supernatural, which charmed the gaze and fired the imagination.

But, suddenly, within the city arose the sound of loud cries and wailing, and D. John saw, leaving by the gate of Elvira, more than 400 women, with dishevelled hair, and torn mourning garments, who filled the air with groans, and running towards him in a disorderly troop, threw themselves under his horse's feet, plucking their hair, beating their breasts, tearing their clothes, covering themselves with dust, and uttering lamentations and shrill cries. Till at last one of them, an old woman, lifting herself up, with her grey hair flying and her mourning garments rent, extended her trembling, withered arms towards D. John, and in a hoarse, disconsolate voice addressed him in these words. "Justice, my lord, Justice is that for which these poor widows and orphans beg, who now must love tears in the place of husbands and fathers; who did not feel so much pain when they heard the cruel blows of the arms with which they were being killed by the heretics, as on hearing that these should be pardoned."

D. John was first taken aback, and then touched, when he learned that these poor women were the widows and orphans of those Christians who lately had been killed and martyred by the Moors, and extending his hand towards them, he performed the miracle of silencing them, and consoled them, as much as he could, by promising to see justice done. Then the lamentations ceased in the city, and D. John saw nothing but hangings and awnings of brocade and cloth of gold, and a crowd of richly adorned dames and maidens, who threw flowers from the windows as he passed and, according to the Moorish custom, glass balls filled with scent. D. John alighted at the door of the "Audiencia," where his lodging was prepared; the house of ill fortune, as the Moors called it, because from it was to come their ruin.

Two days later, D. John being still covered, as one may say, with the dust of the journey, the Moors of the Albaicin sent four of their number on an embassy to him, the most crafty among them, says a chronicler. They wished to sound the new leader and deceive what they presumed to be the inexperience of his youth, as they had deceived the sordid nature of the MarquÉs de Mondejar, and the fervent piety of the Archbishop. They presented themselves consequently as injured, instead of humbling themselves as offenders, enumerated the injuries that they had received, asking for justice and proclaiming their innocence, and with the greatest effrontery clamoured for the help and protection of D. John for their lives, honour and property.

D. John let them talk freely, giving the sustained and courteous attention which all judges should show to the prisoner who is defending himself; but, when they had finished, he began to speak gravely and firmly, his face so impassive that not all the quickness of the Moors could guess his intentions, answering them in these studied words:

"The King, my Lord, has ordered me to come to this kingdom, for its quiet and pacification; be certain that all those who have been loyal to the service of God, Our Lord and his Majesty, as you say you have been, will be looked on favourably, and honoured, and you will keep your liberties and freedom. But also I wish you to know, that as well as using equity and clemency to those who deserve it, those who have not so behaved will be punished with the utmost rigour. And, as regarding the injuries which your spokesman says that you have received, give me your writing so that I may send and have them remedied, and I wish to warn you that what you say had better be true, as otherwise you will bring trouble on yourselves."

The Moors left crestfallen on hearing this, understanding that they had not succeeded in taking the youth by surprise, and already fearing his resolution and prudence. And they were right to be afraid, as from the first moment D. John was convinced that the mainspring of the rebellion was the Albaicin, that from there it was always being stirred up with help and news, and sustained and animated by well-grounded hopes of being assisted by Turks and "Berberiscos" from the coast. He, therefore, resolved at once to guard the coast in a way that should make landing impossible, and to clear out the Albaicin, that sink of treason and espionage, at one blow casting forth all the Moors from Granada. So D. John put these two proposals before his Council of War, and without a murmur they approved of the first one, agreeing that the Knight Commander D. Luis de Requesens, Lieutenant-General of D. John at sea, should assist, with the galleys he had in Italy, to guard and defend the coasts. As regards the expulsion of the Moors from the Albaicin, their opinions were divided, and each defended his own with more or less reason and courage. But D. John, firm in his purpose, which was upheld by the authority of the President, D. Pedro Deza, sent the advice to the King, begging him, if he approved, to give instructions about the villages, and how to settle these dangerous people beyond the radius of the rebellion.

D. John did not waste time while the King was arranging the business. He first applied himself with great activity and energy to repress the excesses of the captains and soldiers as to lodging, taxes and rapine of all kinds, and to reduce the war to a plan, under one leader, a thing hitherto impossible, owing to the rivalry and mutual dislike of the MarquÉses de Mondejar and de los VÉlez, and the want of discipline and cupidity of the officers and soldiers, who were more occupied with pillage and booty than in gaining victories or taking positions. They did not fight to win, but to rob, and at times, overburdened with their plunder, they let themselves be killed rather than abandon it; others, already having enough booty to satisfy their greed, fled with it inland, deserting their colours.

Luis Quijada unfailingly helped D. John with his sound judgment and his great experience in the art of war, without sparing him arguments or grumblings, as in other times he had not spared the Emperor, D. John's father, and a month after Quijada's arrival at Granada, the 16th of May, he wrote the following disconsolate letter to the Prince of Évoli, which gives an idea of the sad state of the campaign.

"I owe an answer to your lordship's letter of the 7th of this month: for three or four days I have had no fever and have endeavoured to get up, but I could only do so for a few hours, as my weakness is great, and I return to bed tired out; I eat and sleep with scant pleasure. I will go as I can and not as I should wish, because if ever I felt ill it is now, and I do not want to make myself out such a great soldier that I could have remedied everything; but I do think that much might have been done at the beginning. These damned soldiers, volunteers and citizens, live in a way never before known; they have no discipline and behave in a way that is not reasonable or right for men of war, because they think not of fighting, but of robbing God and everyone. God's Will be done, but I tell you that such a disaster at such a time has never been known as the one that befell the Knight Commander;^[9] we placed our hopes in him to hold the sea, not less than on the soldiers he was bringing us, to produce the good effect that could be brought about. This is over, and so entirely over that for hours at a time and without any difficulty the arms and ammunition these dogs expect, which it is said is a great quantity, can be landed: to receive them there are more than enough people, but not enough to carry them away; according to report the galley slaves will arrive at a signal, and will go to the mountains, to which those of the plain have already retired, taking the remainder of their property, determined to die, and I have no doubt that they will do so if the soldiers were to press them, although the formation of the ground will protect them; but, sir, it grieves me much that these are not soldiers any more than their captains and officers. Then the galleys which came from Italy and the soldiers in them were of so little use that it was best to order them to return, and until Gian Andrea arrives, as D. Álvaro de BazÁn is in Sardinia, I do not know if it would be wise to order him to join D. Sancho, that they should not dare to disembark in such a barefaced way, but they will know what is best there. I am afraid we shall pay for the delay of Gian Andrea and the haste of the Knight Commander. These dogs have been making signals for eight days and have assembled 12,000, among whom are 6000 marksmen, the rest with weapons, swords, and slings, and in other parts 8000 are assembled. I do not believe that they are as well armed as they tell us, or that they have as much powder as they make out. Through my illness I have not been near a Council or heard anything for days. You will know what is happening by what the Lord D. John writes; my opinion is that it will be best to press them and bring this business to an end. It might be wrong according to how long the people tarry that we have sent for and whether they are as good as we could wish. The horse soldiers are very good, and wherever they go, however few they be, the Moors do not wait for them, nor please God will they do so unless they alter the order which has been kept here hitherto, as with theirs they can hope for no success; for bad as we are, they are worse, as we at all events try to be more or less worthy men. The Lord D. John does all he can with the assistance of those you know of with all possible care and diligence and in finding out bribes and swindling and wrongs which the officers have done, but it requires great skill, as many arrange that if they lose their money, they have still more left as they give it to the others: they say it is beyond all words, even after they have heard that D. John has named an auditor to look into the matter. It was the wisest thing to have sent the Licentiate Biguera, for many reasons, but specially to see what belongs to His Majesty, which is a great quantity, if it is well looked after, but it is much for one man to do. Oh, my lord! What land to buy! What is worth ten to-day in ten years will be worth a hundred; I should not be sorry to hear you were thinking and finding out about it; for much less than what you gave D. Diego you could buy a better estate: His Majesty must sell and at a good price, and the profit will be great for him who buys. I beg Y.L. to forgive such a long letter, but it is after two o'clock, and I cannot sleep; if it pleases you that I should tell you tittle-tattle I have certainly done so. That Pastrana so much pleases the Princess now it is hers I can well believe: may your lordship and ladyship enjoy it for many long years. I kiss your lordship's hands many times. From Real before the Moors. 16th of May, 1569."

Philip II approved of his brother's proposal and authorised him to expel all Moors over ten and under sixty from Granada.

They were to be assigned places of habitation in the villages of Andalucia and Castille, which the King indicated, and handed over lists to the justices there, that they might know about them.

The King also desired, to avoid scandal and to perform the matter more gently, that the exile should not be inflicted as a punishment, but that they were to be given to understand that they were taken away from danger for their own good and peace, and that, quiet being restored, they would be taken care of, and that the loyal and innocent would be rewarded. Few were so in their acts and none were so in their feelings.

As D. Philip said, it was a dangerous piece of work for two different reasons. It was to be feared that the Moors, seeing themselves found out, would try some last and supreme stroke; and it was equally probable that the populace of Granada, on seeing them captured and without arms, would rise against them and commit some barbarous injury to their persons and property. D. John foresaw all; with great prudence and secrecy he sent to warn first of all, the armed men in the towns and villages of the plain, and on the 23rd of June, the Eve of St. John's Day, he suddenly issued a proclamation, ordering that in two hours' time all the Moors who dwelt in the town of Granada, or its castle, and in the Albaicin, citizens as well as strangers, should repair to their respective parish churches.

The terror of the Moors was great, and fear and surprise stopped all idea of resistance; they knew themselves to be criminals worthy of the extreme penalty, and they were afraid that they were going to be imprisoned in order that they might be beheaded.

With a great tumult of groans and tears they all ran to the square of Bib-el-Bonut, to the residence of the Jesuits, and, giving mournful cries, called for Father Juan de Albotodo, a Moor by origin, who was so often their protector, helper, and also their dupe. The Father appeared at a window, without cap or cloak, as he was in the house, and heard the cries of these shameless ones, who already did not dare to demand justice, but only craved for mercy from the King, and charity and help to save their lives from the Father. Albotodo was truly a saint, a man of about forty, worn in body and face, very sunburnt and with such black eyes and hair that they proclaimed his Arab origin at once.

Albotodo descended to the square, and these wretched people did and said such things that they touched the Jesuit's very tender heart, and he ran off to the Audiencia without stopping to get hat or cloak, hoping to soften President Deza's heart, or, if necessary, D. John of Austria's. All the people followed him with groans to the entrance of the Albaicin, but no one dared to descend the hill, as the danger and their bad consciences had made cowards of them, as always happens to criminals.

Breathless the Jesuit arrived at the Audiencia, and the President received him as if he saw an angel coming down from heaven. Nothing could have been more opportune than his intervention, because no one could quiet the Moors as he could, and convince them that their lives were not in danger. In such good faith did D. Pedro Deza act, that he spontaneously offered to give a paper, signed with his name, to the Jesuit, assuring their lives to the Moors. The Father accepted his word: and wrote the document himself, which D. Pedro Deza signed, and the Jesuit, satisfied with this, ran back to the Albaicin, waving the parchment above his head, as if to quicken the hopes of the unhappy men he detested as criminals, but whom he cordially pitied as brothers and doomed men.

Father Albotodo read the parchment from the window: they believing it as he was a priest, says a chronicler, decided to go to their parish churches, depressed, gloomy and suspicious, because as soon as their hopes for their lives were confirmed, their anger and spite were rekindled, which only death could extinguish.

D. John ordered the parish churches to be guarded with several companies of infantry, and, having managed to establish order as regarded the Moors, he anticipated any trouble on the part of the Christians by issuing a proclamation, in the name of the King, to the effect that the confined Moors were under the royal protection and care, and had been promised that no harm should befall them, and that they were being taken from Granada out of danger from the soldiers.

Everyone in Granada, however, awoke the next morning uneasy and full of anxiety, because the Moors had to be moved from the parish churches, where they had spent the night, to the Royal Hospital beyond the gates, and there given over to the charge of the clerks and royal enumerators in order that the former should make a list of them, and that the others should undertake to assign them residences in those villages in Castille and Andalucia settled beforehand. Rebellion and mutiny were feared on both sides, and such would have been the case had not D. John foreseen everything. He ordered that all the soldiers should form up at daybreak in the plain between the gate of Elvira and the Royal Hospital, which was the most open and dangerous place. He commanded the first of the companies himself, and the other three were led by the Duque de Sesa, Luis Quijada, and the Licentiate Briviesca de MuÑatones.

D. John took up his position at the door of the hospital, which was the most critical post. His standard of Captain-General, which was of crimson damask, much adorned with gold and having a figure of Christ on one side and of His Blessed Mother on the other, was carried in front of him to give him more authority. Pity towards these unarmed wretches was, however, stronger in the inhabitants of Granada than hatred and the desire for vengeance, and all the Moors were able to descend from the Albaicin, cross the town, and enter the hospital without being molested by anyone.

"It was a miserable sight," says Luis de Marmol, an eye-witness, participator in and chronicler of all these events "to see so many men of all ages, hanging their heads, their hands crossed, and their faces bathed with tears, looking sad and sorrowful, having left their comfortable houses, their families, their country, their habits, their properties and everything they had, and not even certain what would be done with their heads."

Twice, however, they were on the verge of a catastrophe, as it occurred to a certain captain of infantry from Seville, called Alonso de Arellano, from a stupid wish to be remarkable, to put a crucifix covered with a black veil on the top of a lance, and to carry it as a trophy in front of his company, which was guarding the Moors of two parishes. Seeing this token of mourning, some Moorish women in the street of Elvira thought that D. John had broken his word, and that their husbands were being taken to be beheaded; they began to weep and cry out in their Arabic dialect (aljamia), tearing their hair, "Oh, unlucky ones! they are taking you like lambs to be slaughtered. How much better for you to have died in the houses where you were born!" This inflamed the feelings of all, and Christians and Moors would have come to blows, had not Luis Quijada arrived in time to calm them, assuring the Moors afresh of their safety, and ordering the crucifix to be taken away.

At the door of the Royal Hospital there was another great commotion. A "barrachal" or captain of the alguaciles, named Velasco, gave a blow to a Moorish boy, an imbecile, who threw half a brick that he was carrying under his arm at the captain's head, wounding an ear; in the confusion it was thought that the injured man was D. John of Austria, as he wore blue like the "barrachal"; the halberdiers fell on the Moor and cut him to pieces, and the same thing would have happened to those that followed, had not D. John urged his horse into the middle of the throng and, stopping everything, said in a voice burning with indignation and with a commanding look, "What is this? Soldiers! Do you not realise that if misdeeds displease God in the infidels, how much more they do so in those who profess His laws, because they are the more obliged to keep faith with all sorts of people, especially in matters of confidence. Have a care, then, about what you are doing, that you do not break the pledge I have given them, because once broken it would be difficult to renew it, and if God tarries in their punishment it is not for me to forestall His justice."

Having spoken thus, he ordered D. Francisco de Solis and Luis del Marmol, who saw and relate all this, to have the gates guarded and to let no one enter, that the report should not spread, and he told the "barrachal" to go and get his wound dressed and to say that no one had hurt him, but that his own horse had kicked him.

Once out of Granada, that dangerous focus of the rebellion, D. John determined, with his native energy, to finish the barbarous war, the continual drain of blood, honour and money, at all costs and as quickly as possible; but far from dying out it only went on growing, owing to the quarrels and plunderings of the Christians, to such a point that the Moors no longer fell back and defended themselves in the fastness of the mountains, but attacked and took places as strong as those on the River Almangora or the castle of SerÓn, where they killed 150 Christians and took as many captive, including the Alcaide Diego de Mirones.

These victories puffed up the kinglet Aben-Humeya, and his pride increased quicker than his power, so that he even dared to write as a king to D. John asking that his father D. Antonio de Valor should be set at liberty, who for a common offence had been shut up in the Chancellery of Granada before the rebellion. He sent the letter by a Christian boy, a captive in SerÓn, and gave him a safe conduct which said, "In the name of God, the merciful and pitiful. From his high state, exalted and renewed by the grace of God, the King Muley Mahomet Aben-Humeya, by him may God comfort those afflicted, and sorrowful through the people of the West. Let all know that this boy is a Christian and goes to the city of Granada on my business, concerning the welfare of Moors and Christians, in the way it is usual for kings to treat with each other. All who see and meet him are to allow him to go safely on his way and to give him all aid in carrying this out; those who do otherwise and stop or take him will be condemned to lose their heads." Underneath was, "Written by order of the King Aben Chapela." On the left hand, underneath, in big letters, apparently written by his own hand, was, "This is true," in imitation of the African Moorish Kings, who, for greater grandeur, were accustomed to sign in this way.

D. John did not consent to receive either the messenger or the letter of the rebel heretic; the one, however, was read and the other examined by the Council, who decided to send no reply; but the father of Aben-Humeya, D. Antonio de Valor, wrote that he was being well treated in prison; that he had not been tortured as had been falsely put about, and that he, as a father, deplored his son's rebellion and counselled submission and repentance.

Shortly afterwards Aben-Humeya wrote again to both D. John and his father, this time sending the letters by Xoaybi, Alcaide of Guejar. This traitor read and kept them, in order to accuse and take him, as he in fact did.

At length D. John set out on his campaign with all his native energy, according to his wishes so long kept in check by his continual struggle with his advisers, all quarrelling, as D. Diego Hurtado de Mendoza so graphically paints in his laconic and celebrated letter to the Prince de Évoli. "Very illustrious sir—Truly nothing happens in Granada; the Lord D. Luis listens; the Duque (Sesa) fusses; the MarquÉs (Mondejar) discourses; Luis Quijada grumbles; Munatones submits; my nephew is there and is not missed here."

D. John sent one company of the army towards the Alpujarras, with the Duque de Sesa at their head, and himself attacked with the other, first, Guejar, a formidable place in which the Moors had one of their centres of operations, then reinforced with Berberiscos and Turks. By the clever manoeuvre arranged by D. John they fell upon it unawares, and took the place and the castle with fewer losses and less difficulty than was feared.

The first to fly was the Alcaide Xoaybi, and he went proclaiming everywhere, to spite Aben-Humeya, that the latter was in treaty with the Christians to end the war and to give up the Moors, and in proof of this he showed a wrongly interpreted letter, kept by him at Guejar. They all believed the evil deeds of Aben-Humeya, which were many, and most of all a certain Diego Alguacil, a native of Albacete de Ujijar, who owed him a bitter grudge, because Aben-Humeya had, by evil intrigue, decoyed away a widowed cousin who was the mistress of Diego Alguacil. The kinglet took her by force, but she always kept up a correspondence with her cousin, to whom she told all Aben-Humeya's doings and plans.

Diego Alguacil made use of these advantages, and with a nephew named Diego de Rojas, and the renegade Diego LopÉz Aben Aboo, a dyer of the Albaicin, and the Turkish captains Huscein and Carafax, who had come from Algeria, contrived a plot, which would have been iniquitous had it not been against such a scoundrel as Aben-Humeya. They forged letters from him to Aben Aboo, ordering him to kill all the Turks treacherously, and then they went to Laujar de Andarax, where Aben-Humeya was, intending to take him and kill him. He, however, had had warning of what was happening, and decided to fly to Valor at daybreak on the 3rd of October, but he was kept that night by a festival, and tired by merry-making, put off the journey until the next day, though the horses were already saddled. This was his ruin, as with the dawn Diego Alguacil, Aben Aboo and the others arrived and assaulted the house, taking him unawares. Aben-Humeya went to the door half dressed, with a crossbow in his hand, followed by the Moorish widow; but, as this bad woman saw at a glance what was happening, she clung to him, as if frightened, but in reality to stop him using his arms or the crossbow, and to make it easy for the others to capture him. This Aben Aboo and Diego Alguacil did, tying his hands with an "almaijar" (turban of gauze) and his legs very tightly with a hempen cord.

They were then joined by the Turkish captains, and in the presence of the Moorish woman began to hold his trial and to judge him. They produced the forged letters, which he, innocent and surprised, repudiated with energy, but they felled him to the ground with a blow, as one already sentenced and executed, and began in his presence to sack the house, and divide among themselves his women, money, clothes and goods, ending by designating Aben Aboo as the poor wretch's successor, who saw in his lifetime his most mortal enemies dividing his whole property. From the corner in which he lay bound, Aben-Humeya watched them and followed them with bitter speeches, which revealed the depth of his fury and the blackness of his heart. That he never intended to be a Moor except to avenge himself on one or the other. That he had hanged his enemies, friends and relations; cut off their heads, taken their women, stolen their property, and as he had fulfilled his desires and vengeance, now they were taking theirs, but not for all this could they take away his heartfelt satisfaction. When he heard that Aben Aboo was designated to succeed him, he said that he died content, because Aben Aboo would soon find himself in the same situation as he was in at the moment.

At daybreak Diego Alguacil and Diego de Rojas took him to another room and there strangled him with a cord, each pulling an end. In the morning they took him out and buried him in a dunghill, as something despicable.

Meanwhile D. John of Austria was driving the Moors from place to place, and from rock to rock, towards the Alpujarras, where the other wing of the army was to cut them off. And such were his ardour, forethought, and wish to participate as much in the responsibilities of a leader as in the fatigues and dangers of a soldier, that the then veteran D. Diego Hurtado de Mendoza says of this, "And those of us who were in the engagements of the Emperor seemed to see in the son an image of the courage and forethought of the father, and his desire to be everywhere, especially with the enemy." Luis Quijada never left him for a moment, restraining at each step D. John's imprudent rashness in what concerned his own person, as he exposed his life with dangerous frequency. However, on this path of triumph, D. John met with desperate resistance from the town of Galera, where even the women fought with the vigour of valiant men. It was a very strong place, situated on a long ridge like a ship, whence its name, and on the summit it had an old castle surrounded by high mounds of rock, which supplied the lack of the fallen walls. In the town were more than 3000 Moorish fighting men, with a good handful of Turks and Berberiscos; so safe did they think the place that they had stored there wheat and barley to last more than a year, and great treasure of gold, silver, silks, pearls and other costly things.

D. John made a careful survey of the place from one of the high hills which dominated it, with Luis Quijada, the Knight Commander of Castille, and other renowned captains, and then ordered the batteries and trenches to be prepared for the assault. D. John personally inspected this work as Captain, General, and soldier, and, because it was necessary to go for the esparto grass of which the gabions were made to a distant hill, he went on foot in front of the soldiers to encourage them to work, and carried his load on his back like the rest, even to placing it in the trench. They began, as soon as it was light, to fire at the tower of the church with two big cannon, and in a few shots they opened a high, though small breach, through which to make the assault, and D. Pedro de Padilla, the MarquÉs de la Favara, and D. Alonso de LuzÓn entered with others of the courageous gentlemen who followed D. John with his people from simple love of him.

The artillery went on firing at some houses, seemingly of earth, which were beside the church; but when they tried a second assault, so great was the fury with which the Moors repulsed them, and so strong was the resistance these miserable hovels offered, that the Christians had to retire with great damage, leaving several gallant gentlemen who had clamoured to advance penned in. One of them was D. Juan de Pacheco, a knight of Santiago, who was dismembered limb by limb, on account of the rage which the red cross on his breast inspired in the Moors. He had only arrived at the camp two hours before, from his home, Talavera de la Reina, and without more than just kissing D. John's hand entered the fray where he met with his death.

D. John, nothing daunted by this defeat, ordered new mines to be laid and fresh batteries placed, and settled another assault for the 20th of January, which, from the mines exploding prematurely, ended in a second disaster. Both sides fought with great valour, and ensign D. Pedro Zapata succeeded in planting his flag on the enemy's wall with such boldness that, if the entrance had permitted others to help him, the town would have been gained that day; but the narrowness of the place prevented all help, and the Moors fell on him and threw him, badly wounded, down from the battery, still holding his flag, which he never let go, nor could anyone tear it from him, pull as they might. That day died more than 300 soldiers, among them many captains and men of worth, and more than 500 were wounded.

D. John's sorrow changed to ill-concealed rage, and he swore that day to level Galera to the ground and to sow it with salt, and to put all its dwellers to the sword; which he soon afterwards accomplished, as at the third assault, with new mines laid to the foundations of the castle, and enormous breaches made by heavy artillery brought from Guescar, almost the whole village blew up with a dreadful noise and earthquake, which made the hill tremble, and the Christians dashed forward and gained the town inch by inch, until they penned up more than 1000 Moors in a little square, where they slew them without mercy or pity. The streets ran with blood and it made the roads slippery, covering the bushes and brambles as if with crimson flowers. They took great booty of things of much value, and D. John ordered that the great quantity of wheat and barley which the Moors had stored there should be seized; he also ordered D. Luis del MÁrmol, who relates all these events, to raze the town and sow it with salt, as he had sworn.

D. John of Austria left Galera and went straight to lay siege to the town and castle of SerÓn, where awaited him the first real sorrow which embittered his life. He encamped his troops at Canilles, and from there he wished to go personally to reconnoitre the place, taking with him the Knight Commander of Castille and Luis Quijada, with 2000 picked arquebusiers and 200 horses.

The Moors of SerÓn saw them coming, and hurriedly began to make signals from the castle, asking for help. Many went to take shots at the Christians from the slope and then fled, pursued by the Christians, all of whom entered the place, which seemed deserted; the women could be seen running to take refuge in the castle, and from there were making signals. The soldiers gave themselves up in a shameless manner to sacking the houses, and better to secure the plunder many shut themselves up in them. Suddenly there appeared more than 1000 Moors from Tijola, Purchena, and other villages on the river, in response to the signals, and the panic of the Christians was then boundless.

They fled in a disorderly way, and unwilling to leave the booty they had already in their hands, and encumbered with the loads, they stumbled, fell one on the top of the other, affording a good mark for stones, arrows, and bullets. D. John, from the hill where he was, saw all this confusion, and angry at the danger to his soldiers and at their want of discipline, fearlessly plunged his horse into the midst of them, crying with heroic force:

"What is this? Spaniards! Whom are you flying from? Where is the honour of Spain? Have you not your captain D. John of Austria in front of you? What do you fear? Retire in order like men of war with your faces to the enemy, and you will soon see these barbarians terrified at your arms." But Luis Quijada also saw the danger D. John ran within reach of shot, and he went with all speed to make him retire. At the same moment a ball from an arquebus struck the Prince's helmet, and, had it not been so solid, would have killed him. Like a lion whose cubs are being hurt, Luis Quijada turned and urged his horse on as if he would annihilate the marksman. He then received a shot in the shoulder, and they saw him first stagger and then fall heavily from his horse, among the cries of grief and shrieks of rage of those who were near. D. John covered him with his person, and with wonderful presence of mind, ordered him to be taken to Canilles with an escort by Tello de Aguilar and the horses from Jerez la Fontera.

Luis Quijada arrived at Canilles very much exhausted on a stretcher made of poles, carried by four soldiers who were continually changed; they took him to his inn, poor and bare, it being war-time and in an enemy's country, and there D. John's doctors hastened to dress the wound. He was consumed with thirst and continually asked for water, and, above all, was anxious about D. John, whom he had left in such a dangerous situation. At last Juan de Soto arrived, D. John's new secretary, good Juan de Quiroga having died months before in Granada. He said that D. John had been able to effect a retreat with great loss, and that he had received such a blow from a stone on his shield that the pebble remained fixed in the metal: a wonderful performance, but by no means unique, considering the strength of those terrible Moorish slingers, who could do as much harm with a stone as with an arquebus.

D. John returned to Canilles after dark, his left arm somewhat hurt by the terrible rebound of the shield on receiving the blow; he went direct to Luis Quijada's room and shut himself up with the doctors. These all declared the veteran's wound to be mortal; but they did not think that death was imminent, and without hope of saving him, they nevertheless believed that they could ward it off for at least a few days. D. John was profoundly grieved, and thought first of all of DoÑa Magdalena. This lady was in Madrid, in order to have the quickest and most reliable news about the war, and that same night D. John sent a messenger there with a true and detailed account of what had happened. Knowing the great heart and courage of the lady, he did not doubt for a moment that on hearing the news she would at once fly to her husband's side, so he also sent an itinerary, written by his own hand, marking the safest route by which to make this undoubtedly brave journey considering the roughness of the road, the coolness of the season, and even the age of the lady, who was already fifty, and, above all, the continual risk of being surprised and attacked by the Moorish highwaymen, scattered all over that part of the kingdom of Granada, which was then the seat of war.

To prevent great dangers, D. John wrote to all the places where there were garrisons, which most places had, ordering them to give DoÑa Magdalena a strong and safe escort on her way, and he also ordered that daily two messengers might leave, one at daybreak and one in the evening, so that she should have frequent reports, whether she was in Madrid or on the journey, at the close of each day. D. John wrote these dispatches daily with his own hand after having consulted the doctors and heard their opinion. The first news D. John sent to DoÑa Magdalena by his favourite and confidential valet Jorge de Lima. He had not judged the intrepid lady wrongly; as no sooner did she hear the terrible news than she at once arranged her journey, without hesitation or foolish hurry, but with the calmness and prudent activity which carry superior souls through difficult situations. She was accompanied by her brother the MarquÉs de la Mota, D. Rodrigo de Ulloa, several relations and friends, and a good many armed and trusty servants. DoÑa Magdalena performed this journey as far as Granada in a litter, and from there to Canilles she rode strong mules lent her by the Archbishop; so long were the stages and so short the rests, that in five days she had traversed the sixty leagues which separated her from her lord and husband Luis Quijada. Meanwhile he felt that he was dying little by little, as he had himself said of the Emperor on the eve of his death. D. John had suspended operations, and looked after and helped Luis Quijada by himself as long as possible. These filial cares touched the old soldier, and he gave him counsels and warnings, and warmly commended good DoÑa Magdalena to him, although he did not really believe that he was actually dying.

But when he heard from D. John himself that DoÑa Magdalena was already on the way, and knew of all the loving precautions he had taken to protect her journey, the veteran's eyes filled with tears, and putting his only available hand on D. John's head, he pressed it with a manly and supreme effort. The advent of death laid bare the tenderness of his heart and smoothed his rugged nature. On the 20th of February, 1570, he was very much exhausted, and for the first time realised that his end was near. He at once asked for the sacraments, and D. John brought a Franciscan friar, one of those who followed the army, and was at the convent of Canilles. He was the then celebrated Fr. ChristÓbal de Molina, the hero of Tablate, whose dreadful gorge he was the first to cross, on a fragile plank, his frock turned up, a sword in one hand and a crucifix in the other. Owing to the great terror inspired in the Moors, and the heroic emulation of the Christians, to the daring of the friar was due the defeat of the former and the victory of the latter, and the relief of Orgiva, sorely pressed by Aben-Humeya. Fr. ChristÓbal was small and ill-looking, and at his first visit Luis Quijada did not like him. When D. John, who revered him much, asked the reason, Quijada answered candidly, "He distracts me and makes me worry, thinking how such a wretched little man could do so brave a deed."

Quijada, however, confessed to him with great contrition for his sins, and the same day they brought the Viaticum from St. Mary's and he received extreme unction, waited on by D. John, who most lovingly uncovered his hands and feet to be anointed with the holy oils. The next day, before the auditor of the army, Juan Bravo, he made a long codicil whose clauses all breathe the same simple piety, at times rude, of the great warriors of former times, in which, no doubt, lay the secret of their courage. A celebrated, but by no means devout author, says, "Heaven smiles on the soldier who can dash into the fray uttering the holy war cry 'I believe.'"

Luis Quijada left the poor heirs of all his considerable wealth that was not entailed, and the usufruct of it to DoÑa Magdalena. He founded granaries and "monts de piÉtÉ" in his four towns of Villagarcia, Villanueva de los Caballeros, Santofimia and Villamayor, founded schools, endowed hospitals with a special income that the dying should want for nothing, and added clauses referring to DoÑa Magdalena in this tender way: "And if DoÑa Magdalena thinks it best to join our estates and found some convent of friars or nuns, provided that they are not the bare-footed nuns, as it is so cold at Campos that they could not live there, in this case I give power to DoÑa Magdalena and my executors, that joined, she may dispose of and order them, as our wishes have both been to make a perpetual foundation with her property and mine, and that we should be buried together and have in death the same good companionship we had in life."

On the morning of the 23rd Luis Quijada was rather restless from fever, and a little before noon Jorge de Lima arrived saying that DoÑa Magdalena was only one hour behind. D. John went to meet her at the entrance of the village, and led her himself to Quijada's bedside. In his delirium Quijada did not know her, but at dawn this disappeared as the fever lowered, and he had long, loving talks with her. He again wandered in the afternoon of the 24th, and never again came to himself; this strong life was ebbing away, little by little, and on the 25th of February at dusk he quietly expired, as one who passes from the natural to the eternal sleep. D. John held the hand which grasped the candle of the dying, DoÑa Magdalena, on the other side, showed him the crucifix, and Fr. ChristÓbal de Molina, kneeling at his feet, commended the passing soul.

At the moment of death D. John embraced DoÑa Magdalena, pressing her to his heart, as if he wished to show that he still remained to love and care for her; the lady hid her face for a moment in that loyal breast, and three or four dry, hoarse sobs escaped from her, signs rather of manly sorrow than of feminine weakness; but she recovered herself at once, and with great calmness and devotion closed the dead man's eyes, according to the custom of the times, sealing them with drops of wax from the candle of the dying; keeping the lids closed with her fingers and D. John dropping the wax. There were present the Knight Commander D. Luis de Requesens, the MarquÉs de la Mota, and the other captains and gentlemen who filled the poor habitation, the rest grouping themselves in the street, waiting sorrowfully for the fatal conclusion.

They dressed the corpse in his war armour, and, as a sign of piety, in a Franciscan's cloak; the hands were crossed over the breast, on which rested his sword, whose handle was a cross. D. John arranged that the corpse should be exposed all the morning before the army, on a litter adorned with trophies and flags, and that in the afternoon they should carry it and bury it in the convent of the Heronimites at Baza, which was the place Quijada had himself chosen, until DoÑa Magdalena could carry it elsewhere.^[10] All the army were on the march with arquebuses reversed, the lances, pikes and flags trailing, the drums muffled, the clarions and pipes untuned. The oldest captains carried the litter alternately, and behind them went D. John, riding a mule, covered to the ground with mourning, he wearing a cloak with a hood which covered him to the eyes, his standard of Generalissimo in front, not reversed like the other flags, but carried high as usual; the Knight Commander followed and all the leaders of the army, more or less wearing mourning, according to what black cloth they could procure in that wretched place.

DoÑa Magdalena stayed on three days in the camp and then went to the convent of Abrojo, where she intended retiring for a few weeks. She travelled in a very comfortable mourning litter which D. John had provided for her, and he accompanied her for two leagues beyond Canilles, riding by the side of her litter. There they separated: she sad as one having left behind all she loved; he sad too—as sad as one can be at twenty-three.

During these days of encampment at Canilles D. John reformed his army, and falling again on SerÓn with great force and good fortune, the Moors had no choice but to fly, first setting fire to the village and castle. Then he entered Tijola, Purchena, Cantoria, and Tahali, and went from victory to victory all along the River Almanzora, and so great was the dread of the Moors that on only hearing of his coming they fled incontinently, abandoning without resistance places and fortresses; which was due not only to D. John's great reputation for valour and energy, but also because this youth of twenty-three was already one of those valiant and honoured leaders who only make war to gain peace, and while on one side he terrified the enemy with the renown of his victories, on the other he secretly held out his hand to arrive at a just judgment, which would spare bloodshed, although it might detract some rays of fame from his glory.

For some time D. John had contemplated making a truce with the Moors, and with the greatest secrecy he had put this matter into the hands of the captain Francisco de Molina, a friend from childhood of the Moorish leader in that land, Hernando el Habaqui. With much secrecy, then, the two friends had an interview, and the proposals did not displease the Habaqui; he was a very discreet man and, unlike most of his race, loyal and frank.

They discussed the conditions, and at last the Habaqui agreed, and promised to do all that he could to make the kinglet Aben Aboo agree also. D. John had not sufficient confidence in these treaties to make him suspend operations; on the contrary, the war went on, cruel and sanguinary, at Terque, the River Almanzora, and the Padules de Andarax. But on arriving at Santa FÉ, on the 17th of April, the negotiations were so far advanced that he decided to issue a proclamation, whose principal articles were as follows: "It is promised to all Moors who have been in rebellion against His Majesty, men as well as women, of whatever rank and condition they may be, if within twenty days, counting from the date of this proclamation, they will come and give themselves up, and deliver their persons into the hands of his Majesty and of the Lord D. John of Austria in his name, he will grant them their lives and will order that they shall be heard, and justice done to those who afterwards desire to prove the violence and oppression they have suffered to force them to rebel; and he will act towards the rest with his usual clemency, to these, as to those, who besides giving themselves up, render some signal service, such as beheading or taking prisoner Turks or Berberiscos of those who joined the Moors or other natives of the kingdom who have been captains or leaders of the rebellion and who still persist, not caring to enjoy the grace and mercy that his Majesty offers them.

"Furthermore; to all those who are above fifteen and under fifty who come within the said time to give themselves up and who give into the keeping of his Majesty's ministers, each one a gun or a crossbow with ammunition."

Thousands of this proclamation were scattered throughout the kingdom of Granada, and from the first minute Moors began to present themselves in the camps of D. John and the Duque de Sesa, craving for pardon. All had a cross of red cloth or linen sewn on the left sleeve, so that they might be known from afar and not hurt, as was ordered in one of the articles of the proclamation. Meanwhile the Habaqui fulfilled his promise to obtain leave from Aben Aboo to submit, and he begged D. John to name commissioners to arrange the form in which the kinglet and he should make their submissions, as well as the other leaders for whom they were acting. On Friday, the 19th of May, the gentlemen named by D. John conferred in Fondon de Andarax with the Habaqui and his men, and it was settled that the Habaqui, in the name of all, should throw himself at the feet of D. John of Austria, begging mercy for his sins, and delivering up flag and arms.

They then set out the same day for the Padules, where D. John was encamped; the Habaqui and the gentlemen commissioners, with 300 Moorish marksmen whom they brought as escort. The Habaqui rode an Algerian horse, with Arab trappings; he wore a white turban and a crimson caftan, his only arms a sword set with many precious stones; he was a spare man with a good figure, with a thin beard which was beginning to turn white. At his side an ensign of the escort bore the banner of Aben Aboo, of turquoise damask, with a half-moon on the point of the staff, and some words in Arabic which meant, "I could not desire more or be contented with less." The marksmen followed five in a row. Four companies of Spanish infantry, who were waiting at the limits of the camp, surrounded them, and on passing the lines the Habaqui gave up the banner of Aben Aboo to the secretary Juan de Soto, who was riding at his side. In this way they passed through the ranks of the infantry and horse soldiers, who played their bands and fired a fine salute of arquebuses, which lasted a quarter of an hour.

D. John of Austria waited in his tent, attended by all the captains and gentlemen of the army; he was in full armour, one page held his helmet, and another, on his left hand, the standard of the Generalissimo. The Habaqui alighted in front of the tent and went straight to throw himself at the feet of D. John, exclaiming, "Mercy, my lord, may your Highness grant us mercy in the King's name, and pardon for our sins, which we know have been great," and taking off the sword with which he was girded, he placed it in D. John's hand, saying, "These arms and flag I give up to His Majesty in the name of Aben Aboo and of all the rebels for whom I am empowered to act." And at that moment Juan de Soto threw down the kinglet's banner at D. John's feet.

D. John listened to him and looked at him with such quiet and peaceful dignity that he well represented the justice and mercy of which he was the guardian. He ordered the Habaqui to rise, and giving him back his sword, told him to keep it, and with it to serve His Majesty. D. John afterwards loaded him with favours, and ordered his gentlemen to do the same: that day the Habaqui dined in the tent of D. Francisco de CÓrdoba, and the following one in that of the Bishop of Guadix, who was in the camp.

The next day the festival of Corpus Christi was celebrated in the camp, with all the pomp and solemnity possible in such an out-of-the-way place, and with the joy natural to those who believed that the disastrous war was ended. By cartloads and armfuls the soldiers brought flowers and herbs, so plentiful in May in that fertile country, to adorn the altar and the road by which the Holy Sacrament was to go. They hung with fair and fragrant garlands the tent in which Mass was said, and which stood, raised, in a sort of square in the centre of the camp, and around it they planted green groves and arches of foliage, with flags and streamers. The soldiers had made it a point of honour to adorn their tents, and there was not one which was not beautified with wreaths, flags, and little altars of different kinds; many of them were ornamented with rich cloths and other precious things, the booty of war. The Host was carried by the Bishop of Guadix, under a brocaded canopy, held up by D. John of Austria, the Knight Commander of Castille D. Francisco de CÓrdoba, and the Licentiate Simon de Salazar, Alcaide of the King's Court and household; in front, two by two, went all the friars and clergy of the camp, who were numerous, and the knights, captains, and gentlemen, with torches and tapers of wax, lighted, in their hands. From one end of the camp to the other the infantry and horsemen had formed up with their flags flying, and as the Blessed Sacrament passed, they knelt down, lowering their arms, standards and banners, kissing the dust; the bands played martial hymns, and through the air thundered salvos of arquebuses, which did not cease for at least a quarter of an hour. "A friar of St. Francis preached that day," says Luis del MÁrmol, "who with many tears praised Our Lord for His great favour and mercy in having made the place Christian by bringing the Moors to a knowledge of their sins; and besides this he said many things which consoled the people."

But, unluckily, these rejoicings and consolations were premature, as very soon afterwards the traitor Aben Aboo went back on his word, and fortified himself in the Alpujarras, and began to prevent, with atrocities and punishments, the pacification of the Moors, who had thronged to submit, and he asked for fresh help from the Kings of Algiers and Tunis. Loyal and honourable for his part, Hernando el Habaqui was furious; he went to the Alpujarras swearing to bring Aben Aboo to reason, or to bring him into the presence of D. John tied to his horse's tail. But the crafty Moor knew how to lay a snare into which the loyal Habaqui incautiously fell, and was treacherously killed, and his corpse hidden for more than thirty days in a dung-heap, covered up with a matting of reeds.

Few, however, were the followers who remained to Aben Aboo after this crime was discovered; and pressed without respite, he fled from cave to cave, always seeing his following diminish, until it consisted of few more than 200 men, and these tired and worn out. Gonsalo el Xeniz, who was Alcaide, agreed with a silversmith of Granada, called Francisco Barrado, to capture Aben Aboo or to kill him, as he was the cause of so many lives being lost. So, one night, el Xeniz arranged to meet Aben Aboo in the caves of Berchul, on the pretext that it was necessary to talk over matters which concerned everyone. Aben Aboo came alone, as he confided to nobody where he slept. El Xeniz said to him, "Abdala Aben Aboo: what I wish to say to you is that you should look at these caves, which are full of unhappy people, sick folk and widows and orphans, and things have come to such a pass, that if all do not give themselves up to the King's mercy, they will be killed and destroyed: and by doing the contrary they will be relieved of their great misery."

When Aben Aboo heard this, he gave a cry as if his soul were being torn out, and looking furious, he said, "What? Xeniz! You have brought me here for this? You harbour such treason in your breast! Do not say any more, or let me see you again."

And saying this he left the cave, but a Moor called Cubeyas seized his arms behind, and a nephew of el Xeniz gave him a blow on the head with the butt of a musket and stupefied him and threw him to the ground; then el Xeniz gave him a blow with a stone and killed him. They took the body, wrapped in a matting of reeds, lying across a mule, to Berchul, where Francisco Barrado and his brother Andres were waiting for them. There they opened the corpse, took out the intestines and filled the body with salt to preserve it; they then put it on a sumpter mule, with boards at the back and front under the clothes, to make it appear living. On the right rode the silversmith Barrado, el Xeniz on the left, bearing the musket and scimitar of the dead man, surrounded by el Xeniz's relations with their arquebuses and muskets, and Luis de Arroyo and Jeronimo de Oviedo formed the rear-guard with a troop of horse. In this manner they entered Granada with a great crowd of people, who were anxious to see the body of the dyer of the Albaicin, who had dared to call himself king in Spain: the arquebuses fired salvos in the square of Bibarrambla and again in front of the houses of the Audiencia, which were answered by the artillery of the Alhambra. The President D. Pedro Deza came out and el Xeniz gave him the musket and scimitar of Aben Aboo, saying that he did so like the faithful shepherd, who being unable to bring to his master the animal alive, brought the skin. Then they cut off the head of the corpse, and abandoned the body to the boys, who dragged it about and then burned it; the head was nailed in an iron cage on the gate "del Rastro," facing the road to the Alpujarras, with an inscription underneath, which said:

Thus ended this celebrated Moorish war, another step by which D. John of Austria mounted to the summit of his glory.