View of the Escorial and surrounding country. Present day.

To quote Señor Baros, "The victory of St. Quentin was gained on the Feast of St. Laurence and Don Philip wished to raise an edifice in honour of the saint which should be a convent, a royal mausoleum and a palace. When the Emperor took leave of his son he had charged him to erect a worthy sepulchre for his own remains and those of the Empress. The King caused the Spanish architect Juan Bautista de Toledo to come from Naples, who designed the Escorial in the shape of a gridiron. The first stone was laid in 1563. This superb monument was finished by Juan de Herrera, 1584."

These short notes are mostly culled from the works of Sir William Stirling Maxwell, Major Martin Hume and Señor Baros. Those on the Duque de Alba are taken from the catalogue made for the present Duke by Don Angel de Barcia, of which a portion was specially reprinted for this book.

BOOK I

DON JOHN OF AUSTRIA

CHAPTER I

Like a flock of frightened sparrows the children of Leganés arrived that afternoon at Ana de Medina's door, just as the bells were ringing for vespers. Ana's son Jeromín was the first to get there, with his big blue eyes staring and his beautiful golden hair thrown back. But there was good cause for all this, and twenty shrill voices hastened to explain it to Ana, who, startled, came to the door distaff in hand, and a scolding on her lips.

There was no school in Getafe that afternoon; the sun had stricken down Sancha Apelza, the master's wife, while working on the farm of the Comunero, and she was to receive the last sacraments that night. The children from Leganés were coming back to the village, playing as usual by the way at Moors and Christians. Jeromín always insisted on this, and never would play at Comuneros, or at being Padilla, Adelentado or Bishop Acuña, all recent and popular heroes. He said it was enough for him to be Jeromín and to pretend to cut off the heads of Moors. He entrenched himself in the Canon's well as if it were a castle on a rock, and Pedro Verde defended the orchard of Maricuernos opposite, declaring it to be the Vega of Granada. Jeromín gave the word "Santiago," and from both sides, like bullets from an arquebus, came lumps of soft earth. At this inopportune moment, while the battle was raging along the road from Madrid bordering the orchard of Maricuernos, four mules appeared, harnessed in pairs with long traces to what seemed to be a little wooden house, with two tiny windows and four big wheels. A man was riding the foremost mule on the off side, and another was seated on the roof of the house, guiding the mules with a long stick. Through one of the windows a very fat man with grey moustaches and a pointed beard, could be seen, sitting inside. Four well-armed horsemen and two baggage-mules escorted the unwieldy vehicle. The children were frightened at the sight of this extraordinary machine, such as they had never seen before, but curiosity overcame their fear and they all grouped themselves, very silent, in the orchard of Maricuernos to see it pass closer. The boys' terror increased when they realised that the heavy machine was halting in front of them, and the fat gentleman, putting his head out of window, was asking them very politely whether the Emperor's former guitar-player, Francis Massy, who had married Ana de Medina, a native of the village, still lived there.