The Story of Don John of Austria by Luis Coloma (macos ebook reader .txt) 📕

D. JOHN OF AUSTRIA

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D. John did not lightly accept the words of the Moors, well knowing how crafty and untruthful they could be. He took leave of them, however, in a kindly manner, and ordered them to return to Tunis, and to say there that he was coming at once at the head of his army, and that, with the help of God, he would take it at once, whether or not it opened its gates. He also commanded his gentlemen to take the Moors and give them food and make much of them, so as to give them time to see the formidable engines of war which were then being disembarked, and to take an account of them back to Tunis.

The next day, the 10th of October, D. John selected 1500 old soldiers of those who formed the garrison, and sent them on to Tunis, under the command of the Marqués de Santa Cruz, to find out and confirm the truth of what the Moors had said. Four hours later the rest of the army set out, in orderly formation, and as equipped and ready as if they were to meet an enemy at each step. The heat was stifling, in spite of its being already October; the soil was sandy and shifting, and the soldiers marched overcome by the weight of their heated armour and by the thirst which became burning. To set an example, D. John, as his father Charles V did in other days, went up and down the lines on horseback, in full armour and carrying his baton as Captain-General. Fr. Miguel Servia, who also took part in this expedition, says in his journal, "All the way His Highness went on his horse, ordering people and forbidding them to disband, showing himself first to the vanguard and then to the rearguard, at times commanding the artillery to march, and ordering the people to march in great order."

At last they reached the famous olive yards on the road to Tunis, where the veterans of Charles V had done such brave deeds, and there D. John ordered them to encamp round the wells, so that the soldiers were able to slake the burning thirst which devoured them. In all the march they had not seen a sign of the enemy, or of other human beings, except an old goatherd, who fled towards the mountains; this confirmed the news that the Turks and Moors had left the town.

Meanwhile the Marqués de Santa Cruz and his veterans had reached the gates of Tunis and found them wide open. But still fearful of the cunning and treachery of the Moors, they did not enter the town without great precautions. The soldiers walked one by one, in two long rows, close to the houses of the narrow lanes, arquebuses at their shoulders, pointing at the doors and windows, which seemed absolutely deserted. In many cases they saw signs of the recent sacking by the Turks, broken doors and shutters, and the beautiful courtyards with their arches and columns and marble cisterns in the centre, surrounded by orange trees and pomegranates loaded with fruit ruined.

In this way they crossed the town, and began to mount the Alcazaba, which was on a height to the west. It was spacious, and had very strong walls, and in one block of them, against a closed door, were to be seen about twenty Moors surrounding a fat old man, who was making signs with a piece of white linen, whom they guessed to be the Alcaide. The Marqués went forward on horseback, with four of his veterans, and, standing up in his stirrups, shouted out to know for whom the fortress was held.

The old man replied for the King Muley Hamida; but, as he had fled to Goletta, to put himself under the protection of the Lord D. John of Austria, the speaker was willing to give up the fortress to the said Lord D. John when he should appear. The Marqués was satisfied with this, and refused to take the keys, reserving this honour for D. John of Austria, to whom he sent a messenger at once, announcing the fact, and collected his troops in the arsenal, which was in the lower part of the town, there to await the arrival of the army. The soldiers went back with less caution, and, as they on their part committed no acts of violence, the people remaining in Tunis were reassured, and at the openings of the shutters began to appear sun-burnt childish faces, the forms of veiled women and old men, who came to the doors bowing to the invaders. There was also a great number of domestic animals, fowls above all, which wandered about the streets, seemingly having escaped from open farm-yards or deserted stables.

D. John of Austria received the message from the Marqués de Santa Cruz at a deserted place called Diana, two miles from Tunis, where he had camped. He ordered a crier to announce at once that the town of Tunis was given over to be sacked, on the understanding that no one was to be either wounded, killed, or taken as a slave. Then he continued the march, and arrived at Tunis at two o'clock. He left the army drawn up in front of the walls, and entered the town accompanied only by his captains, to reconnoitre it for himself, arrange barracks and billets to avoid misbehaviour on the part of the soldiery and give courage to the Moors who showed themselves, which were all those left in Tunis. The Alcaide of the Alcazaba came with the other principal Moors, and delivered up the keys of the fortress, with a humble but dignified address. D. John listened courteously, without alighting from his horse, and did not take the keys which the Alcaide offered on his knees. He made a sign to the Marqués de Santa Cruz that he should take them, as he was the first to enter the place.[16] Then he wrote at once from the Alcazaba to his brother Philip II, announcing that His Majesty was Lord of Tunis without a shot having been fired. At last he gave the signal to sack the town. The loot was plentiful, and as far as it was possible the sack was orderly, without other outrage than the death of an old man who had taken refuge in a Mosque, and several fires, due to the Italians, whom D. John punished without loss of time, causing four of them to be hanged. "They found in the town," says the journal of Fr. Miguel Servia, "much wheat, barley, wool, butter, oil, and many garments; pimento, cinnamon, cloves, ginger, beautiful porcelain and veils. From the wells, cisterns and caverns they drew rich garments, gold, silver and other things; and these first days they all ate nothing but fowls, because there were countless numbers of them. The soldiers divided the spoil among themselves in their barracks afterwards, and nothing else was heard but digging in various parts of the town, and then selling what was found, clothing being sold for a low and wretched price. Some parts of the town the Italians set on fire, which much annoyed His Highness, but many people came up, and it was remedied."

A very extraordinary thing happened to D. John at the Alcazaba. This castle, which, as we have said, was big and strong, had within its walls large cloistered court-yards, orchards, and gardens, comfortable rooms richly furnished in the Moorish fashion, with pavements and fountains of white marble. These were the rooms of the King Muley Hamida, and in them D. John lived. There was a winding staircase by which to descend to a shady little garden, with hedges of myrtle and beautiful flower borders, and oranges and lemons, quinces and pomegranates. Beyond were the baths, and behind these the old ruined part of the Alcazaba. The day after his arrival D. John went to this garden, at the hour of siesta, in search of coolness. He was accompanied by Gabrio Cervelloni, Captain-General of the artillery, and by Juan de Soto, and they sat down on a sort of seat of Moorish tiles, under the shade of some creepers. The heat, the hour, the noise of running water, and the sweet peacefulness of this enchanting spot soon overcame the feeble conversation, and they were in that comfortable, charmed state which precedes sleep. Suddenly Cervelloni jumped up from his seat and put his hand on his dagger, D. John and Soto doing the same: along one of the myrtle-edged paths they saw slowly advancing an enormous lion with a tangled mane. The animal seemed astonished to see these persons, and paused for a moment, gazing about as if surprised, with one paw poised in the air. Then it quietly continued its walk, and went up to D. John, who had gone to meet it, rubbing against his legs like a dog, and throwing itself humbly at his feet. Then a Nubian slave appeared from the side of the baths, and explained by picturesque signs that his beautiful animal was a tame lion for the solace of King Hamida, and that it lived familiarly with all the dwellers of the Alcabaza. D. John then gently caressed the mane, and such a current of sympathy passed between the lion of Austria and the lion of the desert, that the latter became the devoted slave of the former, and thus the great knight D. Luis Zapata de Calatayud describes it, having often seen it: "D. John gave it his own name of Austria," says the already quoted Zapata in his Miscellany, "and neither by day nor by night, like a faithful captain, did it ever leave its post. When transacting business at Naples he had it lying at his feet like a greyhound, its head on the ground, and satisfied with the attention paid to it. When he dined it was at the table, and ate what D. John gave it. It came when he called it, and on the galley, the boat was its dwelling-place. When he was riding, it ran at his stirrups like a lackey, and if he went on foot, behind like a page. There was nothing in his royal house at which this gentle and obedient lion was not present, to the point of being by day or by night of those of his bed-chamber; and if it was cross with anyone who took hold of it, in order to rouse it, a word from the Lord D. John, calling, "Austria, quiet, come here," pacified it, and it went to throw itself on his bed. This beautiful and rare animal, when D. John left Naples for Flanders, gave such sighs and roars that it saddened and astonished all those of that kingdom, until at last, from sorrow for the loss and absence of its master, eating much and eating little, it died."

It is this lion which is painted in various portraits of D. John, whose gay, chivalrous nature made him sign himself for fun in the letters to his two great friends, D. Rodrigo de Mendoza and the Conde de Orgaz, as the Knight of the Lion, and in another letter to Gian Andrea Doria, lamenting his work in Flanders, he says, "The Knight of the Lion does not in the least envy the good life of Genoa, and its coast, as his life is as laborious as that of the Knight at Ease is peaceful."

D. John, according to Philip II's instructions, made a thorough examination of the fortifications and strategical position of Tunis, and had long talks about it with Gabrio Cervelloni, who was well versed in such matters; but, far from settling to dismantle the town, as the King thought, he decided to build a new fort, capable of holding 8000 men, to complete its defence. Tunis is situated on the banks of a lagoon, which is so shallow that it is called "el estaño" (the pond), which is no other than the ancient and famous port of Carthage, silted up by the centuries, and the carelessness and the filth of all Tunis which emptied itself there. The mouth of the lagoon is a narrow channel in the Gulf of Tunis, and it is in this opening that Goletta is situated, defending the entrance. On the opposite side there is an island, separated by another channel from Tunis, and it is here that D. John thought to build the new fort, with a covered communication with the Alcazaba. Most of those consulted warmly applauded the project, a few condemned it, faint-hearted ones or toadies, to whom not to agree with the King was openly to disobey him. But D. John, firm in his idea, ordered Gabrio Cervelloni to put it into execution without delay; which fact was not