The Story of Don John of Austria by Luis Coloma (ereader manga .txt) 📗

grant, he was obliged, in order to convince Escovedo of the shamelessness of the case, to tell him of Fabara's gossip and the scene at the Chorrillos. D. John himself thus, unconsciously, unchained the winds of the terrible storm of reproaches, hatred and shame in which Escovedo perished.

The King arranged D. John's journey with great caution and mystery, to prevent his departure being known in Flanders, lest they should guard against his coming. He set out at the end of October, without saying farewell to anyone, and, as the story goes, went to the Escorial to return again to Madrid, where Escovedo awaited him, arranging with the Treasurer Garnica the necessary funds for paying the troops in Flanders. At the Escorial D. John took leave of his suite, and with only Octavio Gonzaga and Honorato de Silva went by post to Abrojo, where he was expected by Doña Magdalena de Ulloa. D. John had written to tell her he had prepared for the visit "a ceremonial which delights your Grace, as you are so holy, and for the great love you have for me, the like of which certainly I have never found or ever shall find in my life."

This "ceremonial" which D. John had arranged was one of the proofs of his tender affection, knowing the highly religious feelings of the noble lady. The day of his arrival he confessed fully to the old Fr. Juan de Calahorra, and on the next, in the Prior's private oratory, he communicated humbly and devoutly at Doña Magdalena's side, partaking of the same wafer as she did, as on the first occasion of his approaching the holy table, led by the hand of Doña Magdalena, twenty years before, away in Villagarcia. Tears of quiet joy streamed over the old lady's wrinkled cheek, as she understood that in this way D. John wished to show her that his faith and his love for her were unchanged, and tears also ran down the face of the hero of Lepanto as he reflected that, although his faith and filial love were unaltered, yet that he could not kneel by the side of that saintly woman wearing, as before, the white stole of innocence, but rather the rough, dark sackcloth of penitence.

Then he gave her several Bulls and briefs obtained by him from the Roman Pontiff, conceding graces and privileges to the church and house of the Jesuits, founded by Doña Magdalena at Villagarcia, and the drawings of the beautiful alabaster "retablo" representing the Passion of Our Lord, which he had ordered for the same church, in which lay buried "his uncle and father Luis Quijada," and in which a sepulchre for Doña Magdalena was open and ready. Too soon for everyone came the moment of departure. D. John was to make the rest of the journey disguised as the servant of Octavio Gonzaga, and for this purpose donned a coat of brown homespun, a cap of the same, and high boots of Cordovan leather; he also wished to cut off his moustaches but Doña Magdalena cried out against this profanation of D. John's manly beauty and the sacrifice of those fair hair, she had seen slowly grow. She offered herself to stain his hair and beard black with some dye he had brought, and did so, taking great pains, holding D. John's head in her lap as when he was a child, amid peals of laughter on his part and no small amusement and tenderness on hers. Her work finished, Doña Magdalena contemplated it, and thought D. John as comely as a black-haired servant as he was as a fair-haired Prince, and, smiling complacently, she said, half pleased and half nervous, "It must be a very obtuse person that Y.H. takes in—they will all say, 'Under this sackcloth there is ——'"

Doña Magdalena mounted a tower on the wall which surrounded Abrojo, to see the last of him, with Fr. Juan de Calahorra, the Prior, and the other monks, and, bathed in tears, to watch him turn his head and smile at the last bend of the road, her kind heart not guessing that he was disappearing for ever, that she would never see him again, and that in less than two years all this youth, gallantry and greatness would be dust, and that this deep, pure love would be nothing but a memory in her old age.

CHAPTER XIII

D. John of Austria wished to make up for his delay in starting by the haste with which he accomplished the journey, and so rapidly did he make it, and so arduous was it, that with his usual good humour he could with reason write to his great friends the Conde de Orgaz and D. Rodrigo de Mendoza, "Octavio is very stiff, and the same would your lordships have been, if you had slept as little, hurried as much, and gone through all that we have, which made us often call out, Ah! D. Rodrigo! Ah! Conde de Orgaz!"

On the 20th of October he wrote to the King from Ventosa; and again on the 24th from Irun, to announce that he was crossing the frontier alone with Octavio Gonzaga, as he had left Honorato de Silva ill at Fuenterrabia. On the 31st, at six in the morning, he wrote from Paris, complaining of the dreadful roads and bad horses, and of having journeyed two days with a French merchant, who had given him his trunk to carry for three stages, being quite taken in by his disguise of servant. On the 3rd of November they at last reached Luxemburg at night, from where he wrote first to the Council in Brussels, which held the temporary Government, representing the Senate, and afterwards to the Spanish soldiers, notifying them of his arrival and the command he brought from the King. He wrote also to D. Philip, telling him of the dreadful disorder of these provinces, of the complete isolation of his servants, friends and partisans, and the difficulties which offered themselves with regard to handing over the command to him.

In truth, the arrival of D. John could not have been at a more difficult or dangerous time. On the 3rd of November, the day he first trod Flemish soil, Antwerp was taken, and its horrible sack by the Spanish and German troops took place. These furious and mutinous men then took in a cruel and evil way the pay which the Council of Brussels maliciously held back from them. The Council, terrified, authorised all citizens to arm themselves, and ordered the expulsion of all foreign troops from the States. At this juncture D. John's letters reached the Council in Brussels and the victorious and mutinous troops at Antwerp. These obeyed at once, laying down their arms as their beloved and respected General ordered, and there was great rejoicing among them that he had come as Governor and Captain-General. But the Council was divided within itself, some refusing to hand over the command to D. John; others feared such disobedience against the authority of the King, and they were only agreed in asking the advice of William the Silent, Prince of Orange, the oracle and shrewd instigator of all these more or less disguised rebels.

The answer of Orange was precise: liberty bought at the price of so much blood could not be given up by making over the command to D. John of Austria; and if the Council lacked the courage to retain it, they were first "with pride and arrogance" to exact from D. John that he would confirm on oath the "Pacification of Ghent," one of whose articles was the expulsion of all foreign troops from Flemish soil. This "Pacification of Ghent" was in itself an act of rebellion and independence, for it was resolved upon at a peace conference between the Prince of Orange and the Council of Brussels, as provisional Government, in the name of the King, but without the knowledge or authority of Philip II.

The Council agreed to the latter part of Orange's answer, not having the courage to oppose D. John openly, and sent it to him by the senator Iskio; but couched in such haughty and insolent language that the ambassador was in difficulties, not knowing which to fear the more—the wrath of the Senate, if he refused to take it, or the anger of D. John, if he did. He took counsel of a guest in his house, who said, "Take my advice, Iskio, for this Gordian knot use the sword of Alexander: when you are alone with the Austrian, draw the steel with dexterity, and bury it in the body of this man who is fraudulent and baneful to Flanders. By his death you will free yourself from his annoyance, and will be certain of the thanks of the States." Iskio understood with horror that this was the general wish in Flanders, and resolved to take the message to D. John on his own account, softening its terms as much as possible. But such was the dignity and politeness of D. John in giving his refusal, and such the graciousness of his reception of Iskio, understanding his good intentions, that the messenger, completely subjugated and full of enthusiasm, warmly praised D. John to the Senate when he returned to Brussels, which brought him insults and bad treatment from many, and, over-excited by such conflicting emotions, in a few days he went mad.

His arguments, however, had impressed the Council, and they decided to send D. John a second message by John Funk, this time a very respectful and courteous one, begging him to deign to ratify the "Peace of Ghent." D. John answered with equal politeness that he must have time to think it over and to study thoroughly the eighteen articles of the said convention: he suspected that there might be something against the Catholic religion, and wished to submit it to the opinion of theologians. D. John was also very perplexed about the expulsion of the Spanish troops, and on this subject asked the opinion of the only two confidential advisers he had there, Octavia Gonzaga and Juan de Escovedo.

Gonzaga replied at once without hesitation, as a man full of an idea who takes the opportunity of displaying it, that he thought that it was neither prudent nor seemly to send away the Spanish regiments; it was not seemly, as the Governor was the King's representative, and he should submit to no conditions save those imposed by the King; it was not prudent, because once the soldiers had left Flanders, the royal authority and the person of D. John, who represented it, would be helpless, alone and without support in this country of shameless rebels, secret enemies and lukewarm friends who could, with impunity, laugh at the one and ruin the other whenever they wished. Escovedo, on the other hand, thought that the Spanish regiments should leave Flanders as soon as possible, because the King wished for peace at all costs, giving in to everything which was not against religion or the royal authority; and the expulsion of the Spaniards was against neither the one nor the other, and was necessary to obtain peace in the actual state of affairs. It also seemed to him that the noble confidence with which D. John placed himself in the hands of the Flemings would oblige them the more to act loyally, and in the opposite case that Gonzaga imagined, they were not so badly off for German troops that they would not be able to resist, nor the Spaniards so far off that they could not return there in time. Escovedo also urged secretly, and pressed D. John with this other argument; if, as the Council believed, the expulsion of the Spanish regiments would assure the peace of Flanders, they could at once undertake the expedition to England and use these famous and dreaded troops, as Philip II remarked in a letter written from the Pardo which D. John received from him just then.

D. John pondered over and weighed these arguments. He could clearly see that Gonzaga was thinking of the dignity of Spain and Escovedo of his own golden dream, the expedition to England, and he did not dare to decide for himself, fearing lest his own wish and feelings should carry him away, so he loyally submitted it for Philip II to decide. At the same time he sent the opinions of four Bishops, twelve Abbots, fourteen theologians eminent in offices and dignities, nine doctors and professors, and five jurists of Louvain, that there was nothing prejudicial to religion or the royal authority in the eighteen articles of the "Peace of Ghent."

Meanwhile deputations of the clergy and nobility of those parts, who publicly acknowledged themselves loyal to Spain and Philip II, came to welcome D. John in Luxemburg, and these also urged that the Spanish troops should be dismissed as soon as possible, adding arguments and proposals, warnings, and presumptuous, even rude advice, which clearly showed to what an extent the very name of Spain was distasteful and even hated in Flanders. On one of these deputations