The Story of Don John of Austria

by Luis Coloma

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.

CHAPTER XVII

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."