CHAPTER VII

Philip II was much annoyed at the result of his interview with the Nuncio Ormanetto, because he saw that the Pope was seriously thinking of raising D. John from his dependent position by giving him a crown, and that D. John, on his part, would go as far as his chivalrous loyalty permitted. Antonio Pérez confirmed the King's fears, making him see that the preservation of the forts of Tunis contrary to D. Philip's opinion, and Juan de Soto's secret journey to Rome, were acts of real independence; and, although he did not dare to accuse D. John openly, he threw the blame on the secretary Soto, attributing everything to his influence and intrigues, and again insisted on the necessity of separating D. John from such a dangerous adviser, and of substituting for him an energetic, temperate man, who would know how to moderate these fiery ambitions. This temperate, energetic man whom Pérez now ventured to propose was Juan de Escovedo, a former retainer of the Prince of évoli and completely his creature, who was then secretary of the King at the Treasury.

All this irritated and perplexed D. Philip. He did not wish to vex the Pope, whose disinterestedness and holy aims he well knew; nor did he wish either to deprive his brother of all hope, because, although he did not doubt D. John's loyalty, he was afraid, having become suspicious, of subjecting it to undue proof.

In this difficulty he judged very wisely that the danger would cease with the opportunity, and he resolved to get rid, as far as possible, of "this care and worry of Tunis," and in this sense wrote to D. John the letter which we have already quoted. He also decided to follow the advice of Antonio Pérez, appointing Juan de Escovedo as secretary to D. John; and as his natural prudence and judgment saw no reason for injuring Juan de Soto, or motive for depriving himself of Soto's useful services elsewhere, he confirmed him in the appointment of Commissary of the Fleet in Italy, which was both an honourable and lucrative post.

So Juan de Escovedo set out to join D. John at Naples, bearing express orders from the King and strong recommendations from Antonio Pérez, to moderate D. John's ambitious aspirations, and reduce him to a mere instrument of the policy of his brother, without any views of his own. This man, celebrated afterwards for the gloomy drama of which he was the victim, was then between forty-five and fifty years old. He appeared rather a clownish peasant from anywhere than a noble of the Asturias. He was of middle height, thick-set, with heavy shoulders, and so swarthy and bilious-looking, that in the secret correspondence of Philip II and Antonio Pérez he is often designated by the name of "verdinegro" (the dark green one). However, he compensated with interest for his rough ways and absolute want of manners by his generous, unselfish nature, his sterling honesty, clear understanding, and energetic activity, which rendered him capable of facing all obstacles. Ruy Gómez and Luis Quijada esteemed him much and the latter honoured him not a little in his lifetime, and Do?a Magdalena de Ulloa had retained, in her retirement, such a happy recollection of his honesty and uprightness, that no sooner did she hear of his new appointment than she hastened to write him the following letter:

"Illustrious Sir; I desire to write to you to tell you the pleasure that it gives me to see you in the company of the Lord D. John, because I desire nothing in the world so much as to see such persons about him, for I know the necessity he has of this, and how he will profit by it, and as H.H. does not neglect to keep me informed, I have begged him to make the duty over to you, whom I ask to write by every post whatever you think that I might care to hear about D. John and what he does, and I also beg of you that no post should leave without bringing me information, because if this is not carried out, and the post comes with nothing, it gives me a great shock, and you can send the letters to the house of D. Pedro Manuel, and I will reply by the same means or as you may direct; and because I think that, although it will be a trouble to you, you will do it as a favour to me, I end by praying Our Lord to give you as good a journey and as much success as I wish you. May Our Lord keep and prosper your illustrious person as I wish. At your service,
Do?a Magdalena de Ulloa."

Gregory XIII, on his part, never wavered in his ideas, and losing all hope that Philip II would help him in his plans for the kingdom of Tunis, he turned to another scheme which had been a failure in the time of Pius V, but which he desired to resuscitate with fresh life and vigour by confiding its execution to D. John of Austria, "because of his valour and good fortune," quoth the Pontiff, who matured in silence his secret project, which was to bring so much good to Christendom and so much glory to D. John, and until he could divulge it he contented himself with lavishing proofs of esteem and affection on him, such as were then only shown to kings and reigning princes.

In March of that year, 1574, he sent to Naples by his Chamberlain the Golden Rose, blessed on Palm Sunday, which, according to ancient custom, the Pope was in the habit of sending to the king or queen who had deserved the most gratitude from the Holy See during the year. This unusual honour frightened the Viceroy of Naples, Cardinal de Granvelle, who was no friend of D. John, and he hastened to apprise Philip II of the fact. The Chamberlain arrived at Naples with the Golden Rose on the 24th of March, and on the 25th the solemn presentation took place in the church of St. Clara. The friars of St. Clara, great admirers of D. John, put a crimson velvet carpet on the Gospel side, to receive him, with a chair and curtain, as they would have done for an Infante of Spain. Granvelle knew of this, but held his tongue and let it pass, in order to have something against D. John, if he had accepted the honour; but he, warned in time, ordered the canopy to be removed and another chair to be placed at the left of his own for Granvelle.

Great was the enthusiasm in Naples over the new honour bestowed on D. John, and all wished to take part in it. It was a point of honour with the ladies to go to the festival with symbolical roses in their head-dresses and at their breasts, and they bombarded everyone, from the Cardinal to the smallest acolyte, with demands for seats. It was, however, impossible to satisfy them all, and on this day noble ladies were seen in the gutter, crowded on the stairs, in the doorways, and even in the recesses of the chapel, anxious to see everything and to be seen.

There were faintings from lack of air, cries of protest, bad-tempered pushing, crumpled ruffs, crooked caps, creased petticoats, unfastened shawls, lost jewels, and heaps of petals from the roses that had occupied such honourable positions. The necklace of the wife of an important Councillor was broken; it was a string of pearls, and only half a dozen could be recovered.

D. John came between the Cardinal Granvelle and the Archbishop of Monreale, and was followed by all the numerous princes, marquises and counts who were in Naples, and by a crowd of gentlemen. A Bishop celebrated the Mass, and the Bishop of Castellamare, who was Chaplain to the King, gave D. John the Pax and presented him with the Gospels to kiss. The Pope's Chamberlain was on the Epistle side, on a seat without a back covered with crimson velvet. He wore a black velvet cassock, and over it a crimson garment. The Golden Rose was displayed on the high altar in a big silver jar. It was of massive gold, with its foliage a foot high; it had diamonds sprinkled over it like drops of dew, and the green leaves were made of emeralds, some of enormous size. Mass over, the Chamberlain took a brief of the Pope and gave it to D. John to kiss, and then to a secretary to read aloud. The reading finished, D. John knelt down on a cushion of crimson velvet before the Bishop who had celebrated the Mass, and who, taking the Golden Rose from the hands of an ecclesiastic, gave it to D. John, saying, "Our Holy Father, Gregory XIII, Very Serene Prince, sends you this consecrated rose, in token of his benevolence and paternal love. By his orders I give it to your Highness."

To which D. John replied, "I kiss the feet of His Holiness for so great a favour, and I receive the rose with the veneration due to something so sacred, sent by the Vicar of Christ, universal Shepherd and head of the Church."

At this time there broke out in Genoa the famous disturbances between the old and the new nobility, called respectively "the Porch of St. Luke" and "the Porch of St. Peter," and Philip II, who held the protectorate of this republic, hastened to send D. John of Austria with a few galleys to pacify the insurgents with skill and cleverness; and if it were not possible to quiet them by any other means, to do so by force of arms. The Pope heard of his passing Gaeta, which was only twenty leagues from Rome, and on the pretext of greeting him, sent his son Jacobo Boncompagni, who carried secret instructions to apprise D. John of those mysterious plans over which the Pope had long been meditating. Marco Antonio Colonna accompanied Jacobo on his own account, as also did the Spanish ambassador in Rome, D. Juan de Zú?iga.

The three illustrious personages came to visit D. John on the 18th of April on board his galley with a numerous and brilliant suite, and the next day D. John landed to give them a royally sumptuous banquet in the house of the Governor of Gaeta. The long, wide table was set in the principal saloon, with two places side by side laid with services of rich plate, D. John giving the place of honour to Jacobo. On the right, but at a respectful distance, was a similar place for Marco Antonio Colonna, and at an equal distance on the left another for D. Juan de Zú?iga. One hundred and twenty-three dishes were served with all the viands and exquisite sauces for which Italian cooking was then so famous, without counting dessert, which covered the table three times, with different conceits of towers, tournaments, castles, and wild beasts, with pastry and delicious sweetmeats; more than forty kinds of wine were passed round. The merriment and good temper of the illustrious guests never flagged for a moment, and the crowd of noble gentlemen, who stood respectfully watching the banquet, snatched a mouthful at the sideboard, and were satisfied with abundant cups of wine.

At the end of dinner Boncompagni asked D. John's permission to present him with the gift that Gregory XIII had sent: some very rich tournament armour, a great black velvet pouch full of gold medals that had been blessed, which D. John divided among those present, and a little chest of red velvet containing a beautiful group of the Crucifixion, of great artistic merit. The Pope kept this chest in his rooms, and it was enriched with numerous indulgences.

In return for these presents D. John gave Boncompagni a horse worth 500 ducats, and its trappings which cost 2500, and a sword ornamented with gold worth 800 ducats.

The next day, on board the galley "Real," under the awning of striped red and white damask which stretched in front of D. John's cabin, Boncompagni confided to him the mysterious enterprise which Gregory XIII proposed to undertake with D. John's help. D. John listened attentively in silence, from time to time his blue eyes flashed with enthusiasm. It was a question of setting at liberty a beautiful captive queen and snatching a kingdom from the heretics.