"Memoirs of Captain Alonso de Contreras" (ca. 1640)

The spectacular memoir [1] of a Spanish soldier in the heyday of Spanish might in the early 17th century, describing his adventurous and excessively violent career as a soldier, sailor and officer of the Order of Malta from the time he left home in 1595 at the age of 13 – with the first of a great many killings already behind him – until the memoir comes to an end almost 30 years later.

This fascinating memoir, that historical research has shown to be scrupulously exact in all its military and political details, recounts in a dry, direct manner the innumerable dramatic combats in which he took part all over the Mediterranean and in the West Indies [2], and also the everyday life of those eventful times in particularly vivid, sparkling detail.

Probably written on the suggestion of the great Spanish playright and poet Lope de Vega, who had harboured him for eight months not long before he undertook the drafting of his life story and who dedicated one of his plays, The King Without a Kingdon (1625), to Contreras [3].

(60,700 words)

Translated by Philip Dallas.

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An e-book, with the original Spanish text in an annex, is available for downloading below.

The original Spanish text can also be seen here.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1	CHAPTER 2	CHAPTER 3	CHAPTER 4	CHAPTER 5	CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7	CHAPTER 8	CHAPTER 9	CHAPTER 10	CHAPTER 11	CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13	CHAPTER 14	CHAPTER 15	CHAPTER 16	CHAPTER 17	CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER ONE

I was born in that most noble city of Madrid on 6 January 1582. I was baptized in the parish of San Miguel de la Sagra. My godparents were Alonso de Roa and Maria de Roa; they were my mother’s brother and sister. My parents were called Grabiel Guillén and Juana de Roa y Contreras.
I went to serve the king when I was still only a child, and, knowing no better, I took my mother’s name instead of my father’s. When I discovered the mistake I had made, I could not correct it, as the name Contreras was already written on my papers of service. Contreras, then, I have been since that day, and it is under that name I am known, despite the fact that I was named Alonso Guillén at my baptism.
My parents were poor and they were Old Christians, with no taint of Moorish or Jewish blood; they had never been accused of heresy by the Holy Office of the Inquisition. (Later on I will show you the importance of this to me.) My mother and father lived together for twenty-four years, married according to the laws of our Holy Mother Church. They had sixteen children and when my father died eight of us, six sons and two daughters, were left. I was the eldest of them all, though still a schoolboy.
There were, in Madrid, at the time of my father’s death, some jousting tournaments by the Segovia Bridge. All the town came to gape like idiots at them as though jousting had never been seen before. Another boy named Salvador Moreno, the son of a court police officer, and I missed school one day to see the jousting.
The next day, when I returned to school, the master told me, "You’re a good boy, Alonso; just come up here and pull down Moreno’s breeches so I can beat him."
Unsuspectingly, I went up. Then, the teacher treacherously came up behind me. "Alonso," he said, "take down your breeches!"
But without waiting for me to do so, he gave me a whipping that drew blood.
It turned out that this punishment had been asked for by the father of my school friend and that the teacher whipped only me for the truancy. He had no better reason than that Salvador’s father was richer than mine had been.
On leaving school that day, we went to the Concibción Jerónima square, our usual playground. As the whipping was still burning, I drew my penknife, threw Salvador facedown on the ground, and jabbed him in the back. As it seemed that I had done him no harm, I turned him over and dug him in the tripes. All the other boys said that I had killed him, so I took to my heels and that night returned home as if nothing had happened.
That evening, my mother had given each of us a penny bun. and while we were eating someone knocked sharply at the door. "Who is there?" my mother asked.
"The law," was the answer.
Immediately. I ran upstairs to the top of the house and squeezed myself under my mother’s bed. The police officer Moreno came into the house, searched everywhere, found me, and dragged me from under the bed with a twist of his wrist. "You little devil," he said, "you knifed my son!"
I was next led off to the Court prison, where I was questioned. I denied everything.
The next day, I had to appear in court with twenty-two other children who had also been arrested. The clerk of the court read out a charge which accused me of having stabbed the boy with my penknife. I denied it, and said that some other boy must have done it. Every boy swore that he had not done it, and soon fistfights broke out. It was no small job for the officials to put an end to the riot and clear the courtroom.
However, the end of the business was that the boy’s father talked at such length and so persuasively in court that within two days he proved me guilty. My being only twelve years old was a great subject for discussion among the judges. My being so young, in fact, and only that, saved me. I was condemned to a year’s exile from the court and not allowed to come within fifteen miles of Madrid at the risk of having my period of exile doubled. The court police officer lost his son, who died on the day that I was sentenced, and I was immediately sent off to take my punishment. I spent my year of exile at Avila with my uncle, who was the rector of the church of Santiago in that city. When I had completed my year, I returned to Madrid.

Within twenty days of my return home, the Prince Cardinal Albert arrived in Madrid. He had been governor of Portugal and was on his way to Flanders, where he had just been appointed governor.
"Señora, I want to go to the wars with the cardinal," I said to my mother.
"Don’t be a silly boy," she replied, "you’re scarcely out of your cradle and now you want to go off fighting. No, you’re going to be a silversmith: I had you apprenticed to one only today."
I told her that I did not want to serve any master but the king. But despite that she took me along to the silversmith who had made this agreement with my mother unbeknownst to me.
My mother left me at his house. The first thing that happened was that the silversmith’s wife gave me a copper jar, and no small one at that, and told me to go and draw water at the los Caños del Peral fountain.
"I am here," I said to her, "as an apprentice; not as a servant. Send whom you like to get water, but not me."
She took off one of her wooden clogs and raised it to hit me. I countered by picking up the copper jar and throwing it at her. However I did her no harm as I was not then strong enough.
I quickly ran down the shop’s steps and headed for home. When I arrived I shouted at my mother, "Must I disgrace myself and carry buckets of water through the town?"
Then the silversmith arrived, all prepared to give me a whipping. I ran away and quickly collected lots of stones and started to pelt him with them.
Some people came upon me unexpectedly, and I was caught. When the trouble was all explained, they said that they could not understand why I should be forced to do what I obviously did not want to do. The silversmith was persuaded by them, and I stayed with my mother. I then said to her, "Señora, you are burdened with so many of us children. Why not let me go and earn my living under the prince?"
Resigning herself, my mother said, "But I have nothing to give you, my boy."
Even if my mother had divided all her possessions, her dowry excepted, there would only have been six hundred reales to share between the eight of us. That was a very small sum.
"That doesn’t matter," I replied. "With God’s help, I’ll earn enough for us all."
Nevertheless, she bought me a shirt and some leather shoes and gave me four reales and her blessing.
With all these things, on Tuesday, the seventh of September 1595, at dawn, I left Madrid as a camp follower behind the trumpets of the prince cardinal.

That night we stopped at Alcalá de Henares. I went to a church where there was a great festa in honor of the prince cardinal. And it was there, in the crowd, that I found a toffee seller with some playing cards. Like a hardened gambler, I unlaced my shirt, brought out my four reales from the pocket inside, and challenged him to a game.
Soon I lost my four reales , and after that I lost my new shirt. Then, with a run of ill luck, I lost the new shoes that I had kept safely tucked in my belt. I asked the merchant if he wanted to play me for my old hood, and in a moment he had that, too. There I was, destitute, which is what I suppose I wanted to be. Then a man standing nearby who had been watching the game asked the merchant to give me a real. The merchant good-humoredly did so, and gave me a stick of toffee for luck. I was so delighted that I felt as though I were the winner after all.
That evening, I went to the palace – well, if not to the palace, at least to the palace kitchens to get warm by the fires. It was a cold night. I had slipped in with the kitchen boys.
In the morning, the trumpets blew for the twelve-mile march to Guadalajara. I bought some sweet fritters with what remained of my last real and lived on them until we reached Guadalajara. On the march, I asked the kitchen boys to have pity on me and let me ride on the kitchen wagon for a while. But they would have nothing to do with me just because I was not one of their profession.
We arrived at Guadalajara. I went to the palace again because I had found the kitchen fires very pleasant the night before. I then insinuated myself, without being asked, into helping pluck the birds and turning the spits. By that means, as I shall explain, I even had supper that night. Master James, the prince cardinal’s cook, finding that I was an obliging and useful boy, asked me where I came from. I told him, and then informed him that I was off to the wars. He immediately ordered his staff to give me a good supper and to let me ride on the kitchen wagon for the next day’s march. They allowed me to get on the wagon the next day – but not very willingly.
On the journey, I continued to make myself useful in the kitchen. In fact, I worked so well that Master James took me into his service. I became the favorite of his kitchen and was put in charge of the two large wagons that went at the front of the column with the prince. This gave me the opportunity to take revenge on the kitchen boys who had had no pity on me. I made them march. But soon my anger subsided, and I let them aboard.
We took the road as far as Saragossa, where there was a great festa. From there, we went to Montserrat and then on to Barcelona. We stayed in Barcelona for a few days before boarding twenty-six galleys that were sailing for Genoa.
At Villefranche, the duke of Savoy gave us a grand welcome. From there, we sailed to Savona. On this last leg of the journey, we captured a ship. It was probably French – I believe we were at war with France at that time – though she may have been a Moor or a Turk. The artillery battle, which went on before we actually took her, delighted me.
We stayed at Savona for a few days. Then we went to Milan. From there, we took the road through Burgundy to Flanders. On the march, we passed numerous companies of Spanish infantry and cavalry, which made a wonderful sight.
When I saw that some of the soldiers were (or so it seemed to me) as young as I was, I decided to ask Master James to give me permission to leave so I could join the army. But he had taken such a liking to me that he would not let me go. His reply, in fact, was that he was going to give me a good hiding. I was furious. I immediately presented myself to his highness, the prince cardinal, with a petition detailing everything that had happened to me and what I wanted. Basically, I had followed him from Madrid, his cook would not give me leave, and I did not wish to serve anyone but the king.
He told me that I was still a child. I replied that there were many other "children" in his infantry companies. The next day my petition came back to me, and written on the bottom was, "Let him be enrolled even though he is not of military age."
My master gave up hope only when he saw he could do nothing more to stop me, but he was kind enough to say, "I shall not fail you, and until we get to Flanders come to me for anything you want."
And I did. Thanks to him, I was able to feed more than ten soldiers and most importantly the man in charge of the troop I was in.
I had been enrolled in Captain Mejía’s company, and as we were drawing our stores at a time when we were getting near Flanders, my troop leader, a man whom I looked up to in the same way as I looked to the king, said to me one evening, "Follow me; captain’s orders."
He put a pack on my back and we set off. Morning came, and we were fifteen miles away. I asked him where we were going, and he told me we were going to Naples. It turned out that we had deserted the army and that this man was no lover of battles.
I stayed with him in Naples several days, until one morning I found myself bundled aboard a ship bound for Palermo.

CHAPTER TWO

In a very short time, I reached Palermo. Instantly, I was engaged as page and shield carrier to Captain Felipe de Menargas, a Catalan. He looked after me well, and my time with him was very happy.
One day, there was an opportunity to go on an expedition to Greece. Spanish galleys from the kingdom of Naples and from Sicily were sailing. The Neapolitan galleys were under the command of General don Pedro de Toledo, and the galleys of Sicily sailed under don Pedro de Leyva. The companies were ordered to capture a place in Morea called Patras. My captain’s company was embarked in the capitana of the Sicilian squadron, commanded by Captain Cesare Latorre.
We arrived at Patras, a town on the west coast of Greece. First, we landed troops to capture and hold the beach, then the light troops threw their scaling ladders against the castle walls to begin the assault. It was here that I first felt cannonballs whistling past my ears as I stood in front of my captain carrying a shield and his gilded lance. (The gilded lance was the sign of the commander’s presence.)
We took the countryside easily enough, but not the castle. We also captured plenty of slaves and loot, out of which, greenhorn though I was, I did quite well. If I did not do so well ashore, at least I did well when we got back aboard ship. The soldiers gave me lots of valuables to look after and tipped me generously. (It was a custom of soldiers to make the drummer boy or page look after money, as he never ran away with it.) We had scarcely dropped anchor in Sicily before I had bought myself a suit of many colors.
In Palermo, I met a soldier who told me he was a fellow citizen and I believed him. He asked to borrow my captain’s clothes so he could put on a play. Again I believed him, particularly when he told me that I, too, would be invited to join the party. He quickly carried away lots of clothes, and they were the very fine ones that my master had in his strongbox. Taking his choice of the clothes, he also helped himself to a set of gold buttons and a silken hatband covered with precious stones as well!
When the next morning came, our sergeant told the captain that four men had deserted. One of them, of course, was the soldier who had said he came from Madrid. On hearing this news, my stomach sank.
However, without so much as bat of an eyelash, I went off and made some inquiries and heard that some galleys of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem were in port. I found one and went aboard.
When we got to Messina, I wrote a letter to my master, the captain, to explain what had happened. I told him that I had not asked his permission to go away because I was afraid. We then sailed on to Malta.
Some Spanish knights were on the same galley, and they kindly arranged to have the grand master of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem’s collector of rents and a renowned knight called Gaspar of Monreal, employ me. He was very pleased to take me into his service, and I stayed with him for a year to his entire satisfaction. At the end of this time, I asked him for permission to return to Sicily, as I wanted to become a soldier and because my captain had been writing continuously asking me to rejoin him, saying how much he wished me to return.
Commander Monreal unwillingly gave me leave to go, and he sent me off looking very smart in a brand new suit of clothes. I arrived at Messina, where the viceroy, the duke of Maqueda, was staying at the time, and I enrolled as a soldier in my master’s company. And this time I served him as a soldier and no longer as a page boy or personal servant.
A year later, the viceroy had a galliot [4] fitted for action. He gave instructions for four days’ pay to be given to every soldier who volunteered to man it. I was one of them. We sailed to the Barbary Coast. The ship’s captain was Ruy Pérez de Mercado. We found nothing on the coast, but on our way back we came on a ship almost as big as ours at anchor at an island called Lampadusa.
We rowed into the anchorage, captured the ship with scarcely a shot fired, and not only did we take the ship but also the greatest of all the corsairs as well, a man named Caradali, and, with him, we caught ninety Turks.
We got a fine welcome at Palermo from the viceroy, and our success whetted his appetite for further ventures. Subsequently, he commissioned two large galleons: One he named the Golden Galleon and the other the Silver Galleon.
I embarked on the Golden Galleon and went to the Levant in her. We captured so many ships that it would take too long to describe it all, and we returned rich, every one of us. As a soldier on three escudos a month, I brought back three hundred, part in silver, part in kind. And that was not counting the hat full to the brim with pieces of two that I got for my share of the booty, which the viceroy ordered to be distributed among us all when we were back in Palermo.
This gave me all the self confidence in the world. But in a very few days, it was all gambled away or wasted in extravagances. Again the two galleons were sent to the Levant. There, we made some incredible lootings on land and sea. The viceroy’s luck still held. We sacked the warehouses of Alexandretta, the seaport to which all the merchandise came from Portuguese India by way of Babylon and Aleppo. We again brought back immense wealth.
During these travels, I hardly slept. I fell in love with the art of navigation. I spent all my time asking the navigators questions. I also used to watch them tracing their charts. I made myself familiar with the countries, the capes, and the ports, noting each as we sailed past. This groundwork served me well many years later when I made a full series of survey charts of the Levant, Morea, Anatolia, Caramania, Syria, and Africa as far as Cape Cantin in the Atlantic. I also drew up charts of the islands of Crete, Cyprus, Sardinia, Majorca, and Minorca. These portolan charts also included the coast of Spain from Cape St. Vincent and followed the coastline past Sanlucar and Gibraltar to Carthagena, Barcelona, and then the coast of France as far as Marseilles. From there the charts covered Genoa and on to Leghorn and the Tiber and Naples. All the coast of Calabria as far as Apulia and up to the Gulf of Venice, port by port, was done with the capes and natural harbors marked. They all showed where various types of ships could shelter and in how great a depth of water. Prince Filibert now has all fourteen of them.

We reached Palermo safely with all our loot. The viceroy was delighted. He gave us our share, and we were well sewn up with gold. We were known as the viceroy’s Levantines, and, with this swashbuckling title, no one dared to deny us anything. To enjoy our prestige to the full, we used to go from tavern to tavern and bawdy house to bawdy house.
One evening, however, we were carousing in a tavern, as was our custom, and one of my companions (for there were three of us) said to the innkeeper, "Bring us something to eat, you sod."
The innkeeper said that he was nothing of the sort and refused to move a step. One of my friends drew his knife and stabbed him, and the innkeeper never rose again.
Everyone in the room attacked us with roasting spits and any weapon they could lay their hands on. It was fortunate for us that we knew how to defend ourselves, and we finally saved our skins by hiding in the church of Nuestra Señora de Gruta. There we stayed waiting to hear how the viceroy would take it. We then heard that he had said, "I shall hang them when I catch them."
"My friends," I said to my companions, "it is safer to hide in the woods than to trust in the prayers of good men." (This was an old Spanish proverb.)
So we pooled our money, which made a miserable sum. Then I sent them for our muskets without even having a plan.
The church was on the coast – in fact, it was right on the port – so when we had our muskets I made use of my knowledge of the sea and assessed all the ships in the harbor and chose a sailing bark that was loaded with sugar. At midnight, I said to my companions, "Now is the time to go aboard, if you feel so disposed, gentlemen."
"But we’ll be heard," said one of the company. "There’s only a cabin boy aboard," I told them.
We went down and got aboard. One of us put his hand over the cabin boy’s mouth and, weighing anchor, said to him, "Keep quiet or we’ll kill you."
We got out the oars and began to leave the jetty. As we got within hailing distance of the castle, a sentry challenged us, and we replied in Italian, "Fishing boat!"
This seemed to satisfy him, as we heard no more from him. We set our sails for Naples, a distance of three hundred miles, and by the grace of God we got there in three days.

The harbormaster came to see our papers, and we told him the truth. We told him that we had fled because we were afraid of being hanged by the duke of Maqueda.
The viceroy of Naples was the count of Lemos, and his son was the captain of infantry. He was called Don Francisco de Castro. This son later became viceroy of Sicily and is the present count of Lemos, although he has now become a monk.
The count sent for us. Having looked us over, he remarked that we were a good-looking trio, and he conscripted us on the spot for his son’s foot company, giving orders that the bark and the sugar should be sent back to Palermo.
The Neapolitans also called us the Levantines of the duke of Maqueda and gave us the reputation of being men who did not know the meaning of mercy.
We had a few days, however, with a respectable reputation in Naples. That was because we three lived alone and encouraged no visitors! However, one evening a Valencian from the same company as ours and a friend of his called on us. They were, if we were to believe them, real caballeros.
"Come with us, please," they said, "as we have had some serious trouble in the Florentines’ quarters."
So, not wishing to lose our reputation of the Levantines, we shouted, "By the Christ, lead us to them!"
On the road, we passed a man loitering. I assumed him to be awaiting some amorous assignation. The Valencians were lagging behind us and, when we heard a shout and turned back to see what was happening, we saw one of the Valencians coming toward us carrying a cape and a sombrero.
"There’s a swine that will grunt no more," he said. "What was it all about?" I asked him.
"Nothing," he replied, "he was just a pig I sent to dine with the devil and who has kindly bequeathed me this cape."
When I heard what he said, I was scandalized and, going up to one of my friends, I said, "For God’s sake, have we come out on a looting expedition? It is certainly not what I came for."
"Patience, please, just for once," my friend replied. "We must not lose our reputation in front of these spirited gentlemen." "To the devil with this reputation!" I said.
We got to a house where they sold wine. It was there, as we soon learned, that the Valencians had had their troubles. We went in by a side door, our Valencians barging in, talking loudly in order to create a disturbance. Then they buffeted the innkeeper, made sword thrusts at the carafes and wineskins, of which there were dozens about, pinking some, smashing others, so that the wine flowed like a red river.
The innkeeper shouted through the window for help, while by a small door we got out to the road. Then someone threw a flower-pot from the inn; it hit one of my companions, knocking him senseless. In answer to the shouts for help, an Italian patrol arrived, and we started a hand-to-hand battle with them. My companion who had been hit by the flowerpot still could not get up: He had been laid well and truly. In the end, the Italians pressed us back with their muskets and halberds. They smashed the fist of one of the Valencians with a halberd blow and captured him, and with him my companion who was still laid out on the ground. The rest of us then broke into retreat toward our lodgings.
As the Italian patrol was leading the prisoners away, they came across the corpse from which the Valencian had taken the cape and hat. Immediately, word was sent to the Spanish main guard, and a search party was sent out for my companion, myself, and the other Valencian.
After we had said farewell to the Valencian, we went back to our house to collect our few possessions before decamping. But there in front of our door we saw a military patrol with lighted lanterns waiting for us.
"It’s every man for himself now, my friend," I said. "If you had listened to me when the Valencian stole the cape and sombrero, we would not now be on the run."
With that, I rushed down an alleyway and made for the jetty. In a short time, I got to the inn, which was right in front of the customhouse, where I knew there was a knight of St. John staying who had come from Malta to arm a galleon to go to the Levant. This knight turned out to be my old friend Captain Betrian. He was delighted to see me. When I told him truthfully what had happened, he hid me. I remained hidden for the twenty days until he sailed. On the twentieth night, he took me aboard and hid me in the biscuit store, where I sweated blood and water until we got clear of Naples. He then brought me up from the hold, and we arrived safely in Malta.
The Valencian and my friend who was felled by the flowerpot were both hanged within ten days. As for the others, I have never heard of them again.

CHAPTER THREE

Commander Monreal was very pleased to see me again when I got to Malta, but we were there only a few days before we set off for the Levant with the same galleon and a frigate. We were two months at sea without a smell of the enemy. But one day in a creek near Cape Silidonia, when we were just going to drop anchor, we came upon a handsome-looking caramouse1, which had rather the lines of a galleon.
Straightaway, we attacked her. The Turkish crew jumped into their boats and made for the shore. Immediately our captain offered us ten escudos a head for every live Turk we could bring back. I was among the soldiers to accept his offer, and we leapt ashore after the Turks.
I concealed myself and waited in a pinewood. Then, a gargantuan Turk passed by and I jumped on him. A real savage he was. He was trying to rally his men at the time by waving an orange and white flag in the air, which he had fixed onto his pike.
I poked him with my sword and said in Turc to him, "Lie down on the ground."
This gargantuan Turk looked at me and started to laugh. At that time, though I was equipped with a sword and a shield, I had a face as smooth as a girl’s.
"Go away, you little whore," he said, "your bum stinks like a dead dog."
My anger mounted, and, picking up my shield, I went for him. With one thrust, I knocked the pike out of his hand and struck him in the chest with my sword. He fell to the ground, and I tore the flag off his pike and wound it round my middle.
While I was beginning to rob the Turk, up came two French soldiers shouting, "Divide three ways."
I stood up and, protecting myself with my shield, said threateningly, "You leave him alone. He’s all mine. And if you try to do anything I will run you through."
Well, we were beginning a nice fight when four soldiers, with three Turks they had captured, came upon us and made peace. We all went back to the galleon together, carrying my Turk but without stripping him of his possessions.
The whole story was told to the captain, and he confirmed it by talking to the Turk, who was not badly wounded, and the spoils were declared to be mine.
The French almost mutinied when they heard that my Turk had on him more than four hundred gold sequins. The matter was not helped by the fact that I was the only Spaniard on the galleon, and there were more than a hundred French. Finally, the captain revoked his decision and had the case put to the Señores del Tribunal del Armamento in Malta for arbitration.
This Turkish ship was loaded with soap from Cyprus. A skeleton crew was put aboard her and orders were given to sail her to Malta. As for ourselves, we stayed at sea to look for other such prizes and headed toward the shipping routes of Alexandria in search of them.
At sunset, we sighted a ship that seemed very big, as in fact she turned out to be. We followed her wake at full sail so as not to lose her in the darkness. At midnight, we overhauled her and, with our guns loaded and ready, we challenged her.
"Who are you?" shouted the captain.
"Just a ship sailing the high seas," came the reply. And we knew by their insolence that they, too, were ready with their guns. They seemed not in the least frightened. There was, in fact, a good range of artillery and four hundred armed Turks aboard, and their ship was quite our equal in tonnage.
They let us have a broadside. It sent seventeen of our men to the next world and wounded many others. Then we fired a broadside, and it was just as good as theirs. We then went alongside her, boarded her, and started hand-to-hand fighting. It was a hard battle. At one time, the Turks took our forecastle, and it was a long job dislodging them and forcing them back to their own ship. For the rest of the night, we parted company and we stayed in our own ships. By morning, our captain had a plan that proved very good. He battened down all the hatches and only allowed the actual soldiers on deck, where they had either to stay and fight or jump into the sea.
With the dawn, we went alongside the enemy again. The battle was anybody’s. We took their forecastle and held it for a goodly time; then they threw us out. We withdrew to our own ship to fight it out with cannon as we were better seamen and could handle our ships better. In this case, we were also stronger in artillery than the Turks.
It was there and on this very day that I saw two miracles that are well worth the telling. And this is the story.
A Dutch gunner was loading his cannon in full view of the Turks. One of the Turks carefully aimed a cannon at him and fired, and the ball hit the Dutchman squarely in the face. His head was blown to pieces, and the men about him were splattered with the pulp of his brains.
A flying bone from the gunner’s head struck a sailor on the nose. From birth, this sailor had had a crooked nose, and in this one blow his nose was made as straight as mine, with only the mark of a bruise to show.
There was another soldier who was so full of misery and who cursed and blasphemed so much that no one in his gun room ever got any sleep. Well, on this day he was hit by a cannonball. It cut across the flesh of his buttocks. After that, no more was ever heard of his misfortunes. The only thing that he ever again said about his life was that he had never known anything like the wind of a bullet to sweat out a sickness!
During the battle we maneuvered our boats into good fighting positions by using our oars. But as night fell, the Turks tried to make for the land, which was not far away. We gave chase and got to the coast at the same time they did.
With the dawn, the sea was calm. It was the feast of Our Lady of the Conception. The captain ordered everybody, even the wounded, to come on deck to prepare themselves to die. Everyone went on deck, I among them. I had had a musket shot in my thigh and had been badly wounded in the head the evening before by a halberd blow when we had boarded the Turkish ship and captured her forecastle. The captain then solemnly said to us, "Gentlemen, prepare yourselves either to dine with Christ tonight, or to wear chains in Constantinople."
We had aboard a Calced Carmelite brother as our chaplain, and the captain then said to him, "Bless us quickly, Father, as this is our last day on earth."
The good father blessed us and, when this had been done, the captain ordered the frigate, which was our store ship, to tow us alongside the enemy. In this way, we were ready to fight, unhampered by the sails and oars.
The battle was big and bloody. We could not relax a moment. Even if we had wanted to break off the engagement, we could not have done so, because the Turks had thrown a heavy anchor onto our deck to stop us from taking to sea. The battle lasted more than three hours. And by that time we knew that we had won, because the Turks had started jumping into the water and swimming for the shore, which was not far away. They had not, however, seen that our frigate was going fishing for them!
We forced our advantage and won the battle. We made prisoners of the Turks who were aboard and clapped them in irons to take back as slaves. We pillaged the ship and did very well for ourselves.
We found over two hundred and fifty dead bodies aboard. The Turks, it seemed, so as not to show the extent of their casualties, had not thrown them into the sea during the battle. So we tossed them all in.
On that day, I observed an unusual thing concerning the Christian and Muslim faiths. Listen, and I will tell you.
We had thrown a lot of bodies into the sea when we noticed one floating on its back. Now that was most unusual: Dead Moors and Turks who were thrown into the sea always floated on their bellies with their faces in the water. Christians, on the contrary, floated on their backs.
We asked the Turks we had captured why it was that this body was lying on its back. They replied that they had always suspected that this man was still a Christian. Apparently, he had disavowed his Christian faith long before, but he had once been a Frenchman.
We next put our ship in order as well as the one we had captured. Both, since the battle, were in a bad state. We then made sail for Malta. As there was so much money aboard, and in everyone’s pockets, the captain gave the following order, "Until we reach Malta, there is to be no gambling aboard."
And to make certain that we kept our money to ourselves, he ordered us to throw all our playing cards and dice overboard and published severe penalties for anyone he caught gaming.
So we gambled this way. We drew a circle about the size of the palm of your hand on a table, and in the center of it we drew a circle the size of a silver dollar. Then every player put in this little circle the louse of his choice and bet heavily on it. Each player would follow his own louse carefully, and the first louse to get outside the larger circle won all. And I swear that there was often as much as eighty gold sequins in the pool.
The captain caught us at this, but he realized that, whatever new order he gave, he had no hope of stopping gambling. The vice was too deeply ingrained in soldiers.
At Malta, I went to the law over the slave I had captured at Cape Silidonia. After all the evidence had been heard, the Señores del Tribunal del Armamento announced their decision, which was that the four hundred sequins should go back into the pool to be divided with all the others. However, I was given, as a favor, a hundred ducats, which was the full price of the slave, instead of the ten escudos that the captain had offered. Even more important than that, I was granted the right to incorporate the orange and white flag that I had captured in my own heraldic blazon, when I was granted one – a thing I later did with great pleasure.
I gave the flag to the church of Nuestra Señora de la Gracia. My ill-gotten gains from the voyage amounted to more than fifteen hundred ducats, but I quickly ran through the lot.
Shortly after that, there were some galleys of the Religion that were sailing for the Levant on some enterprise or other, and I embarked to try my luck.
We made it there and back in twenty-four days. We assaulted a fortress in Morea called Pasaba, and we took five hundred prisoners: men, women, and children. We captured the governor, and his wife and children, as well as horses and about thirty bronze cannons. We did all this without the loss of a single man: The news of it astonished the world.
However, the truth was that the garrison there had thought themselves in no danger of attack, knowing that the main Christian fleet was still at Messina.
Soon after this, in the same year, 1601, the same galleys sailed for the Barbary Coast. I went aboard, as on my last voyage, to see what I could make for myself. We stormed and finally took a town called Hammamet. And this is how we did it.
The evening before the landing, we sighted land. During the night, we approached the shore. Before dawn, the general ordered us to put on turbans and to haul down the foresail so that our ships should be taken for the galliots of Morato Gancho. We hoisted the Turkish colors and lots of gay Turkish pendants and, at dawn, finding ourselves just offshore, played around on deck, as the general had ordered, with drums and flutes just as the Turks did. This ruse succeeded, and we were able to drop our anchors quite near the beach.
The town was very close to where we had moored our ships and almost every man, woman, and child came out to greet us.
Three hundred men, and I was one of them, were detailed for the attack. We landed in a great mob, attacked the gates, and held them. After that, there was nothing more to it; the town was ours.
We rounded up all the women and children and some of the men. Most of the men, however, had fled. We went into the town and sacked it. The loot was mean, but that was to be expected from such miserable people.
We sent aboard seven hundred slaves and this worthless loot. Then three thousand Moors, half on horseback, half on foot, came to the relief of the town. We set the town on fire quickly and wasted no time in getting back aboard ship.
Three knights and five soldiers were killed in this engagement, but they lost their lives only because they were too greedy. We then headed back to Malta feeling pleased enough with the expedition.
At Malta, 1 frittered away the little that I had earned on this trip. I must explain to you how. There were quiracas, as we called them, in Malta, and they were so ravishing and so nimble witted that they made themselves the wives and mistresses of anyone with any money, knight and common soldier alike. It was with them that I spent my money.

After I had been a few days in Malta, his highness Grand Master Vignacourt sent for me. He had heard that I was very familiar with the Levant and that I spoke the language well. He gave me orders to go to the Levant to spy out all I could about the Turkish fleet.
I was promoted to sea captain, and my commission was signed and sealed by the grand master. My ship was a frigate with a crew of twenty-seven sailors and soldiers.
I set off and was soon among the Levant islands. I asked news of the Turkish fleet from several ships I met and learned that it had passed through the Dardanelles and dropped anchor at an island called Tenedos. From there, it was going on to the anchorage at Chios.
I tailed the devils until I saw the ships drop anchor at Chios. Now that I knew where they were, I hung around waiting to see whether they would next go to Negropont. Even knowing where they were was really not of much use: I wanted to know what they were going to do. I also wanted to know whether they were going to stay in these seas or whether they were going to attack Christian lands.
I must explain. Every year the general of the sea left Constantinople to visit the islands. Though the islanders were all Greeks, their governors were all Turks. On his rounds, the general of the sea collected his dues and dealt with the year’s law cases. Over and above his rents, the islanders, according to their wealth, prepared some fine gift for him. This general of the sea was also the only person who could depose the various governors of the islands. That year, the general had brought with him from Constantinople the royal galleon and twenty others besides. Included were the Rhodes squadron of nine galleys, the two Cypriot galleys, one of the two Alexandrians, two galleys from Tripoli in Syria, one from Egypt, one from Nauplia in Romania, three from Chios, two more from Negropont, another of the Cavala squadron, and one from Mytelene. Only the galleys of Constantinople and Rhodes belonged directly to the Grand Turk; the others belonged to the various governors of the islands and countries named. Yes, I forgot to add, there were also two from Damietta, a town on the Nile.
I knew that if all these ships did not go to Negropont for careening, scraping, and victualing, it was not probable that they would make for Christian lands. I also knew that when there was going to be an expedition to Christian territories, the galleys of Barbary, Algiers, Bizerta, Tripoli, and any others that were armed joined up with these others in the islands. That was the Turkish way of making up a battle fleet.
This year, they all assembled.
Then I learned for certain that they were all going to Negropont to be careened and victualed.
I sailed round to Cape Maina to wait and spy on them. And from there, after some time, I saw a fleet of fifty-three galleys and several brigantines sailing past on its way to Navarino.
I then made sail for Sapienza, which was an island lying opposite Modon, the fortified town not far from Navarino belonging to the Turks. From there I made for the Venetian port on the very fertile island of Zante.
I stayed there long enough to get news that the Turkish fleet had left Navarino, and to learn with absolute certainty that it was Reggio that the general of the sea was to pillage. His predecessor, Cigala, had done the same. I then sailed to the Venetian island of Cefalonia and, from there, nearly four hundred miles to Calabria.
As soon as I reached the Italian mainland, I went ashore and gave the news of the approach of the Turkish fleet. Plowing up the coast, I spread the news as far as Reggio.
The governor of Reggio, a knight of the Religion called Rotinel, received me well. He quickly made his preparations and massed his knights and his troops, who were then spread around the countryside, as well he might. The Turks were already anchoring off San Giovanni (in the Straits of Messina) only fifteen miles away.
After three days, we got news from the knights who were riding between San Giovanni and Reggio that the Turks had landed their troops.
The governor set an ambush for them and slaughtered three hundred Turks and took sixty prisoners. After this defeat, they reembarked and gave no further trouble.
The governor instructed me to go aboard my frigate, to cross the straits, and to alert Taormina, Syracuse, and Augusta. All these towns were on the Sicilian coast. Taormina, the nearest, was only twenty miles away from San Giovanni. This I did by fighting my way through the middle of the Turkish fleet. I carried out my orders and then went on to Malta to tell them the news.
The knights there immediately prepared to defend themselves. Shortly after my arrival, the Turkish fleet arrived off the isle of Gozo, the well-fortified island that lay next to Malta. They had been warned in good time, so that when the Turks tried to get ashore, our garrison of knights prevented them from landing in force and did not even give them the opportunity of getting fresh water. And that was how the Turkish expedition of that year ended.

I spent a few days with the quiracas and then was ordered off to reconnoiter La Cantara. It was a Barbary fortress near the island of Gelves. We had heard that there were two seagoing barges being loaded there with oil for the Levant. So I set my sails for Barbary with my frigate rearmed.
The island of Lampadusa was a halfway house, and it was there that we caught Caradali, the famous corsair. Lampadusa was almost alive with tortoises, and we always used to take a lot of them aboard when we stopped there. There were also thousands of rabbits. The island was as flat as your hand and about eight miles round. The port was big enough to take six galleys. Above the port was a high tower, which was quite deserted. Some said that it was haunted and that this was the island where King Roger and Bradamante fought. But that is just a fable..
However, what was not a fable was that there was, in a cave that was very easy to get at, a painting, on a very old piece of wood, of the Blessed Virgin with the Child in her arms, and this had worked many miracles.
The Blessed Virgin had her altar in this cavern and on it was this picture. On the altar was also a great pile of things that Christians had put there as offerings, such as biscuits, cheese, oil, salted pork, wine, and money.
At the other end of this cave was a tomb. This tomb was said to contain the body of a Turkish marabout, a saint according to their lights. At this grave were also more or less the same offerings as at our altar, and also lots of Turkish clothing. pork, but no salt
The reason for this was quite simple. Both Christians and Turks left the necessities of life there so that if a galley slave managed to escape he would find something to eat while waiting for a ship of his own nation. It was the same for Christians and Turks alike. I have seen it at work myself.
This is how the fugitives found out if the ships in the harbor were Christian or Moorish. I have already spoken of the tower: Well, they would go up this tower and scan the sea. When they sighted a ship, they would slip down during the night among the bushes to the port, and by the language they heard spoken aboard it was easy for them to tell whether the ship was one of theirs. If it was, they hailed it and went aboard. Slaves escaped in this way every day. But remember, nobody would dare to take even the value of a pin out of the cave if they were not in dire need. If they did they would not be able to sail out of port. That, too, was well proved.
The lamp on the altar of the Blessed Virgin never went out, by day or night, despite the fact that not a soul lived on the island. Yes, the offerings on the altar of the Blessed Virgin sometimes got too much for the size of the cave, but the Blessed Virgin would not allow any ship of any nation to take anything away, except the galleys of the Religion, which used to take these offerings to the Church of the Annunciation in Trapani.
As I have said, if any other vessel took them, just let it try to leave its moorings and sail out of port!

CHAPTER FOUR

I sailed on all night for Barbary Cape. In the morning, I found myself at the El Seco Sandbank and about ten miles from the, shore. There, I saw a galliot with seventeen banks of oars. When she saw us, she hoisted her colors, a huge green flag with three crescent moons on it.
My men began to lose heart when they saw it and the boatswain said, "It’s all up. We’re as good as slaves already. That’s the ship of Saïd Mami of Tripoli!"
I rebuked him.
"Nonsense," I said, "we shall capture her today. And what a lovely prize she will make!"
I ordered the rowing to be stopped, let the sails flap, and got ready for the fight. I charged my culverin and stuffed it to the muzzle with nails, shot, and sharp stones and said, "Leave it to me, and this galliot is ours. Everyone, on guard with your swords and shields. Soldiers (I had eight Spaniards whom I could trust). load your muskets!"
The Turkish ship did not move herself, but seemed to be waiting for me. Some of my crew wanted to make for the open sea, but I would not think of it. It would have been our complete ruin as I shall explain – to say nothing of my disgrace. So I said, "Friends, do you not see that it is a hundred and twenty miles to Christian land from here, that that ship has extra banks of rowers, and that, in four strokes, she can throw a grappling iron aboard us. In running away, we shall only encourage them. Leave it to me. Damn it, haven’t I a life to lose, too? Pay attention now. We shall go alongside as if to board her. Then, we shall let off one volley of our muskets and sheer off. They will lie on their bellies to protect themselves, and as they are getting up I shall slaughter them with my culverin. But leave that last bit to me."
My men understood the plan, and we hoisted our colors. We rushed them, rowing hard, with so much dash that they were amazed. Realizing that we were grimly determined, they struck out to sea, but only when we were nearly on top of them.
I chased them for four hours without being able to catch up. I then ordered the rowing to be left off and the men to have food. The galliot did so, too, and the distance between us remained the same. I again gave chase and they accepted the challenge, until evening when again we both stopped rowing and had food.
I stayed on watch all the evening and all the night to see whether the galliot would take advantage of night to get away, but it became too dark to see. Before dawn, I made the men have a meal, and, to give them heart in case we had to fight, I made an issue of unwatered wine. With first light, I saw the galliot a gunshot away.
I turned my ship toward them and drew alongside them rapidly. Our muskets cracked. They fled at full speed, and we followed. I hung on and drove them until they were forced to seek protection under the guns of the fortress at Gelves.
They jumped overboard into the water, which was only up to their belts, and got ashore. The gunners in the fortress had a few shots at us, but that didn’t stop me fixing a cable to our prize and towing her out of artillery range.
By way of booty, there were many little things such as muskets, bows and arrows, and clothes. I stripped down the sails and the standard and took them aboard the frigate. As for the ship, I burned her, leaving aboard a lot of junk that I did not want to clutter the frigate with. I then left for La Cantara.
In that port, there was not a single ship, nor were the oil barges still there. Oh, I forgot to tell you where that galliot came from. She was from Santa Maura, an Ionian island and she was on her way to Barbary to be fitted out with cannon for raiding at sea. From La Cantara, I went to Old Tripoli. I hid in a creek some twelve miles from the town for a day and a night with my masts half hauled down.
The next day, in the morning, a coasting vessel passed. She was loaded with pottery and carried seventeen Moorish men and women. Not one of them escaped me. I made them come aboard my frigate and I sent the coaster to the bottom, but not until I had brought aboard a big earthenware jar full of saffron and some bales of wool.
I went back to Malta and was well received. I was given the price of the slaves; the Religion took them at sixty escudos a head, irrespective of their fitness. On top of that, I reaped seven percent of the total value of the loot. I spent it gaily with my friends and my quiraca, but most of the money I had earned with so much inconvenience went into her pockets.

While I was there, the festa of Saint Gregory was held some six miles out of the town. Everyone went, even the grand master and the quiracas too! Scarcely a soul stayed in the city.
I ought to have gone, but I did not, because I was too jealous to allow my quiraca out in public. She was very angry with me for not taking her. That day after lunch, while I was making amends, I heard an odd thing: a cannon shot from Castle St. Elmo – then another. I went down to the street, where I heard someone shouting, "The slaves from the bake house have escaped!"
I ran to Borgo, where my frigate lay, thinking to find my crew on board. But no, they had gone to the festa, too. I then collected together a crew of the boatmen who earned their living ferrying people across the Grand Harbor. I armed my frigate with nothing more than my culverin and some short pikes and sailed out of port in pursuit of the slaves.
They were getting away in a good bark and had as their flag a bed sheet. When I got within hailing distance, I shouted, "Surrender!"
"Come and get us!" the worthless devils replied.
There were twenty-three of them, and they had brought with them three bows, plenty of arrows, two cutlasses, and more than thirty spit irons.
"Beware," I shouted, "I am going to sink you! Give yourselves up and we won’t harm you."
The reply came, "No! We’d rather die than be slaves again!" I let off my culverin, and in one shot I broke the legs of four of them. As we came alongside the fugitives’ boat, they let fly their arrows and killed one of my sailors and wounded two others. I went aboard, tied the slaves’ hands, and put them aboard my frigate.
I found that their leader was mauled and on the point of death from his wounds. So before he took that final step, I hauled him up a yardarm by one foot and with the man so dangling we sailed into the harbor.
The whole town was on the ramparts. Even the grand master had come, hearing the cannon.
The slaves had carried away with them more than twelve thousand ducats’ worth of silver and jewels that belonged to their masters. Only four of these slaves belonged to the bakehouse. It would have been better if they had all come from there, but the others were privately-owned slaves. I made the best I could of it for myself and jumped ashore and kissed the grand master’s hand. He was very pleased with the service I had done for him and ordered that I should be given two hundred escudos. But had I not helped myself to some of the money the slaves had looted, I should not have got a penny for my exploit, because the lords and masters of these slaves accused me of being involved in the escape. One of them even sued me for the price of the slave I had strung up on the yardarm. But they all wasted their time. The slave I hanged was dead and buried, and my quiraca in the end was pleased that she had not been to the festa because she got, to her great excitement, all that I had looted from the bark. With that money, she began to have a very grand house built for herself.

A few days later, three Capuchin fathers were on their way from Sicily to Malta on board a ship carrying wood. A brigantine attacked their boat, and they were all taken prisoner. At midnight, when the grand master heard the news, he sent for me; he gave me orders to sail and to lay hands on that brigantine even if I had to go to Barbary to find her.
I obeyed. In Sicily, at Pozzallo Tower, I got word that the ship had sailed for Licata. I went there. There, I was told that she had gone on to Agrigentum. At Agrigentum, they said that she had sailed toward Mazzara. I learned there that she had gone on to Maritimo, which was an island on the way to Barbary where there was a little fort of the king’s. There, I was informed that the brigantine had left seven hours before for Barbary. I decided to follow, but my men mutinied and refused to go, saying that there was not enough food.
That was quite true, but I was counting on the Blessed Virgin of Lampadusa, which lay on our course, and on taking victuals from her and from the marabout. Of course, I had the full intention of making full repayment. I told my mutinous crew my plan, and they agreed to sail on.
In the name of Our Lord, I set sail for Barbary. In less than eight hours, the lookout sighted a ship. I put on more canvas, and my own strength to the oars to catch her before sundown. We came up to her fast, neck and neck. The brigantine sheered off to take cover in an island called Calinosa, hoping to hide in the darkness of nightfall.
But I beat her. I went for them hard and relentlessly, and when they hit the shore all the seventeen Moors aboard fled and the brigantine was mine.
All I found aboard were the three Capuchin fathers, a woman, a boy of fourteen, and an old man. It was a pitiful sight to see those Capuchin fathers in irons. I floated the brigantine and put a guard on her till the morning.
We had food and, in the morning, I sent two reliable men to the highest point of the island to scan the seas. One was to stay as lookout and the other to come back with the news. This second one came back after a while saying that there was not a ship in sight.
With that good news, I set fire to all four sides of the little wood in which the Moors had hidden, and soon every single one of the seventeen came out and I took them prisoner.
I put half of them in my frigate and half in the brigantine. Half of my men also stayed in the brigantine to keep guard over the Moors and to sail her. Both ships set sail for Malta, and received a welcome as they entered the Grand Harbor that I shall leave to your imagination.
Without mentioning the prize money, this trip made me a sum of three hundred escudos. My quiraca had the lot.

Some days later, I was sent to get information in the Levant. I got ready and left as quickly as possible. I first sighted land at Zante, six hundred miles from Malta. We sailed among the islands of the Levant archipelago and anchored off the island of Cerfanto.
Next morning, I came across a little brigantine, which was careened on one side for cleaning its hull. There were ten Greeks aboard, and I had them come aboard my frigate. I asked them where they were going when they had finished sprucing up, and they replied, "To Chios."
Then I led them into a trap.
"What about the Turks you are carrying?" I asked.
They swore blind that they were carrying no passengers. "And those Turkish plates on deck? What about them? They are the sort Turks eat from. And you tell me that you’ve no Turkish passengers?"
They stuck to their story.
I started to put the question to them and not lightly, either. All stood it, even a boy of fifteen whom I had stripped naked and trussed up. "Tell me the truth," I said to the boy, "or I shall cut off your head with this knife."
The boy’s father, seeing that I looked determined, threw himself at my feet. "Captain, don’t kill my boy; I will tell you where the Turks are!" he said.
These were the words of a man whom I had tortured till he had fouled his breeches. Such is the love of fathers for their children. It is a thing to be admired.
I sent some of my soldiers to bring me the Turks. There were two servants and a gentleman. The latter was dressed in a scarlet cloak edged with fur and with gold-damascened daggers on a light chain at his waist. He threw himself at my feet and wiped my boots with his well-trimmed and hennaed beard. I then let the brigantine and the Greeks go on their way.
But I forgot to tell you that my soldiers brought up, at the same time as they brought up the Turks, five of those big coffers – you know the sort, the Turkish ones with curved tops – full of damasks of many colors and a great deal of crimson silk fleece and a few pairs of children’s shoes as well.
I then interrogated my Turk, and he answered all my questions. He had just come from Constantinople with a loaded caramousel, and it was because he was frightened of pirates that he had taken passage back in this little brig, which he had thought to be a safer form of transport. And he was quite right, too. He told me that the Turkish fleet was going to the Black Sea, so being thus put at my ease, I opened the subject of ransoms.
"Do you want to buy your freedom?" I asked him. "Yes," he replied.
After three long discussions, we settled on a ransom of three thousand gold sequins, which his two sons living in Athens were to pay. His home, too, was in Athens.
We sailed there, but I did not want to go right into the harbor, because the entrance was very narrow and it only took twenty musketeers to stop a ship getting out again. I therefore made for a cove about five miles from Athens, where I dropped anchor. I sent one of the two servants to the city. I gave him only three hours, no more, in which to go and come back. He was on time, and brought the whole nobility of Athens on horseback with him. When I saw so many horsemen, I laid out to sea a little.
They held up a white cloth on a pike, which reassured me, and I showed my flag of St. John. Three venerable Turks then came aboard and invited me ashore to discuss terms. I talked with one of them, who I gathered, from the respect paid to him, to be their governor. He told me that it was not possible to raise the money till the next day.
"Ah, well," I said, "if that is how things stand, I am on my way. You know as well as I do," I went on, "that Negropont is no distance away and that Morato Gancho, the pasha, can easily be told that I’m here and he’ll sail here in his twenty-six bank galliot and capture me in no time.
"If you can guarantee me a safe passage by land and sea," I added, "I will stay as long as you like."
"By land, yes, but not by sea," he replied.
"Well, then, please excuse me as I must be off. But remember your Turks aboard my ship."
When he saw that I had firmly made up my mind, he said that he would agree to my terms. He raised his finger in front of everyone and said, "Hala ylala."
This oath was a better guarantee than twenty safe-conducts duly signed and sealed, so I stayed on with confidence. But, for all that, before he had said "Hala ylala" he had sent word to Morato Gancho.
As he understood Spanish, we chatted of all sorts of things. He had a young cow killed and cooked, and we sat down and had a meal. In place of our customary wine, we drank a raisin brandy from Corinth. Afterward, they wanted me to go riding with them, but I told them that the only thing I rode was the sea.
Two hundred and fifty of them got on their fine horses, each horse having a colored damask across its back, and they galloped and skirmished. It was a wonderful sight to see.
The ransom money was finally brought and it was in brand-new Segovian silver reales . They asked me to accept these, as they had not been able to find enough gold at such short notice. I ordered my boatswain to count them.
He was suspicious when he found brand-new coins so far from where they had been minted, and he wondered whether they were counterfeit. He came to me and told me his suspicions. I had one of the reales cut open. The core was copper, and it was veneered with silver.
I protested. They all swore by Allah they knew nothing of the swindle and, in fact, would have killed the two Venetian merchants who had brought the money on the spot if I had not stopped them. They asked me to be patient long enough for them to send to the town for more. Four Turks then, on four horses, galloped away like the wind.
We were still waiting when Morato Gancho’s galliot hove into view at the entrance of the anchorage. When I saw her, I went cold all over, but it all turned out well. In a second, the horsemen were in their saddles and one was waving a white flag on the end of a lance. The galliot steered toward them and dropped anchor where she was instructed, which was about a musket shot from my frigate.
The captain came ashore where the Turks and I were. I went to meet him and we saluted each other – he in his way, I in mine. He wanted to see the man I had captured and requested my leave to do so.
I gave orders that my prisoner should be put ashore with no delay, and gave special instructions that he should be wearing his own scarlet robe and his daggers. This second order was considered a great politeness.
We talked awhile, and the captain asked me to inspect his ship. We rowed out to it, and I was piped aboard. I stayed there a short time, and then we went ashore.
We passed the time pleasantly enough waiting for the money to arrive, which was not long, as the horsemen made the double journey in less than two hours.
They brought the money in golden sequins. In addition to our bargain, they gave me two cotton coverlets, which were as smooth as silk, two cutlasses with carved silver decorations, two bows and two quivers with five hundred arrows glittering with gold dust, and a great deal of bread, brandy, and two heifers.
I had my prisoner’s silks and children’s shoes put ashore. In gratitude, he embraced me. Then I gave him a present of a piece of his own damask, and I gave another piece to the captain of the galliot. The captain in return gave me some gold-damascened daggers.
Night fell as I was thinking of sailing. The captain asked me to dine with him and to put off my sailing till the morning. I accepted, and it was an extravagant feast. During the meal, the captain received a note from my erstwhile prisoner asking that he negotiate with me for the ransoming of his two servants. He opened the subject straightaway, and I without more ado sent word that the servants were to be delivered to him, saying to the captain, "They are free and under your orders."
This pleased him so much that he wanted to force two hundred sequins on me. But I would not take them. Then he said, pointing to a slave, "Then, have that Christian slave. He is my personal servant and works here in the poop."
"I accept your offer," I replied, "not because I want payment, but so that a Christian may regain his freedom."
I went back aboard my own ship and, in the morning, I asked him permission to put to sea.
"Sail at your leisure," he replied.
I weighed anchor and, sailing up to the galliot, I saluted him with a shot from my culverin. He replied by cannon. We then, each of us, went our own way.
I made through the narrows at Rhodes and anchored at Stampalia, an island with a big Greek population. On this island, there was no Turkish governor but only a Greek nominated by the general of the sea to act as captain general. I was very well known in those islands and much respected by all the people because I never harmed them and used to help them as often and as much as I could.
Whenever I captured some Turkish ship, which I could not get back to Malta, I would make them a present of it and sell them the corn, rice, and flax that these ships usually carried. So well did these islanders know me that when they had some great quarrel among themselves they would say, "Let us wait for Captain Alonso (that is what they called me) and he will settle it for us."
Often they had to wait a year, but when I arrived they would put their case to me and I had to give judgment. And always they submitted to my decision as though it were an order from the Royal Council.

CHAPTER FIVE

I arrived off Stampalia and then sailed into port. It was a feast day of the Greek Orthodox Church.
As soon as the lookouts ashore signaled me and it was known there that I was aboard, almost everybody came out to welcome me, with Captain George (that was what they called their captain general) leading them. They shouted greetings to me, addressing me as "o morfo pulicarto," which is to say, "O young hero."
Flocks of married women and young girls arrived at the port dressed in skirts that reached down to their knees and little red blouses with tightly tailored sleeves that opened out at the cuff into deep folds and hung at their sides. They wore colored shoes and stockings. Many of them had on open-toed slippers made of velvet of the same color as their clothes. Those who could afford silk wore it; the others wore scarlet. Instead of wearing their pearls at their neck as our women do, they put them on their foreheads. The richer ladies wore gold earrings and gold bracelets. Among the throng. I saw many of my old cronies, whose children I had held at the font to be baptized.
Everybody was in tears. They cried and beseeched me to right the wrongs done to them. A Christian frigate, it seemed, had kidnapped the papaz, who was their parish priest, and a ransom of two thousand sequins had been demanded. "Where is he? When was he taken prisoner?" I asked.
"This morning, and we have not heard mass. It is now two o’clock and too late for him to say it," they moaned.
I set myself then to find out what had really happened. "Where is this Christian frigate that took him?" I asked. "At Despalmador," I was told.
Despalmador was an island not more than two miles from there. I turned my frigate in that direction and set sail. I was quite justified in attacking Christians, as we were duty bound to fight pirates, Christian or otherwise. These Christians were certainly pirates, sailing without commission, and they were sacrilegious. They robbed Moor and Christian alike, as was plain from their kidnapping the priest and demanding two thousand sequins ransom.
We arrived at the little island in a short time, ready for a fight that never started. I found the frigate. She was wearing a standard with the figure of Our Lady on it. She was a small nine-bank frigate carrying a crew of twenty. I ordered her captain to come aboard, and he did so. I then asked him, "Where was your ship armed and manned?"
"At Messina," he replied.
"And your commission?"
He gave it me willingly enough, but it was counterfeit. So I straightaway embarked half of his men and ordered them to be put in irons. I also put half of my men aboard the other frigate to guard the other half of her crew. Then the prisoners I had taken aboard my frigate started to complain, saying, "It is not our fault. Jácomo Panaro (that was their captain’s name) told us that he was sailing under the authority of the viceroy."
"We would gladly serve you," they added, "and follow you to the ends of the earth. As for Jácomo, we are finished with him."
"We did not know," one of them went on, "that he was going to kidnap the papaz. We had no part in it. That is why we didn’t take to the sea when you came in sight. The captain wanted to sail away with the priest, but we mutinied and waited for you to capture us."
I changed my mind and did not put them in irons and, instead, put the captain ashore, naked, and with no provisions of any sort. He was to expiate his sin by dying of hunger.
I left with both frigates and arrived at the Stampalia port. All the islanders were there to welcome us. I sent the priest ashore, and these good people acclaimed me and covered me with their blessings.
They soon found out that I had left the captain on the island with no clothes and with nothing to eat. They prayed to me, on their knees, to send a ship to look for him. But I said, "Do not try my patience. I know the way to punish the enemies of Christians and common thieves. You should thank me for not having hanged him."
I left all my men aboard ship and put the frigates under a good guard. Then I went up to the village church with one companion only.
We entered the church; gentlemen sat themselves on the benches – if they had gentlemen in those parts. What I mean to say is that these men were the kind of stuck-up fellows you find more or less in every country.
As for myself, they made me sit all alone on a throne, with a carpet under my feet. A moment later, the priest entered, dressed in his most beautiful vestments, as if for Easter Sunday, and began to chant. The congregation replied giving thanks to God, "Christo saneste."
The papaz censed me and then kissed my cheek. Then, everyone came up to kiss me in their turn, the men first and the women next. There were some very pretty women there whose kisses did not bore me one bit and their kisses compensated for so many of the others which the bearded men had given me. And what beards they had!
We left the church to go to the captain’s house, where the priest and all the family stayed to dinner. The people of the island took gifts of bread, cooked meat, and huge quantities of fruit to the frigates.
We sat down to the table, where we had a good and generous meal. They wanted me to sit at the head, but I would not; I made the papaz sit there instead of me. The captain’s family and his daughter dined with us. His daughter was prettily dressed, beautiful to look on, and a virgin.
We dined and drank to many healths. With dinner finished, I said that I wanted to go back aboard. The priest then got up and very solemnly said, "Captain Alonso, the men and women of this country have closed the gates to make you stay here. They pray and beseech you that you will become their chief and their defender and pledge it by taking this worthy young lady here as your bride. Her father will give you all his possessions, and we will give you ours. We take oath that you will be made captain general by the general of the sea; we shall make certain of that by giving him an especially fine gift and paying our customary taxes promptly. There will be no difficulty; have no fear. And we shall be your devoted slaves. Do not forget, we have sworn it in our church and we cannot go back on our word. For the sake of God, please fulfill this desire of ours, which has been close to all our hearts for so long."
I replied that I could not possibly do as they asked and that I had to go back to Malta to complete the duties that the Religion had charged me with. To do as they wished would bring shame on my name, because people would not say that I had married a Christian on Christian soil but that I had an establishment in Turkey and that I had renounced my faith – I, who value my faith so dearly. Then again, if I abandoned the crew that I had brought with me I would be abandoning them in the heart of Turkey and they would lose heart and I should be the cause of their ruin if they should be captured and made slaves.
They saw that my reasons were strong, but wanted me to stay all the same and so they firmly said, "You have got to stay."
I saw that they had plainly made up their minds, so I suggested sending my companion to the frigates to find out what the crews thought of it all. According to the reply I received from them, I said I would decide what to do.
My men went down to the anchorage and told the story. The crews were astounded. But if they loved me up there, down below aboard my ship the men loved me even more. They started to arm themselves. They dismounted the culverins from both frigates and mounted them on a windmill in front of and a little way from the town’s main gate. And by my comrade they sent back word saying that they considered that holding me prisoner was a poor recompense for all the good that I had done them. If they did not immediately let me go, they would break down the gate and loot the town.
The islanders were amazed to find that I was so loved by my men and said, "Well, we were not wrong in wanting to keep you as our master. At least promise us to come back when you have done your duty."
I promised them that I would and they asked me to give my hand in token of friendship to the girl and to kiss her lips. I did that wholeheartedly, and I am sure that if I had seduced the pretty thing no one would have minded.
The priest gave me three beautiful carpets as a farewell gift: the girl gave me two pairs of finely embroidered pillows, four handkerchiefs, and two hats worked in silk and gold. They also sent generous supplies of fresh food to my crew and when I said my good-byes they were as miserable as if it were Judgment Day.

From Stampalia, I went to an island called Morgon. There, I dismissed the frigate I had captured, but first I made her crew swear that they would never again touch the goods of Christians. I dismissed them because in those parts it was wiser to travel alone, well armed and with a crew who all slept with one eye open and who understood each other like brothers.
From Morgon, I sheered off towards the isle of St. John of Patmos where the holy evangelist, who was exiled by the Roman emperor, wrote the Apocalypse. On the way, I met a Greek bark that had two Turkish passengers. One, a renegade Christian, was master of the slaves aboard Hassan Marriola’s galley. He had just gotten married on an island called Syra. I put them both in irons and let the bark go on its way.
I asked this renegade whether the Turkish fleet was assembled. Being a member of the fleet, it was impossible for him not to know, and he replied, "No."
I went on my way and asked again at Patmos where they said the same. This time I could not doubt its truth because the Patmos ships were always in communication with the whole Levant. There was a fortress at Patmos, which also served as a monastery. The people of Patmos were very rich, and their ships wore the same flag as the ships of the knights of Malta.
I sailed to a small deserted island some fifteen miles distant, called Formacon, with the idea of sharing my booty of damask and money. It was this habit of sharing the booty before arriving in Malta that made me so much loved by my men.
I sent three men ashore to the hills with orders to keep lookout on land as well as out to sea and to send back one man if they saw anything. In the meantime, I ordered the jars of sequins and the damasks to be put ashore. We were getting them ashore when one of the lookouts came rushing down the hill shouting, "Señor Captain, two galleys are nearing the island!"
I quickly had the damasks and the jars put aboard and ordered the sails to be hoisted and the booms lashed at such an angle that the sails caught no wind.
Then the other two lookouts came down and said, "Señor, we are already as good as slaves."
I ordered all hands on deck, weighed anchor, and waited. I was ready to sail at a second’s notice.
I was in a creek and the galleys were sailing together, so I assumed that they had not then seen me. If they had seen me. they would have approached me on each side of the island and met at the creek, so that if I had tried to escape they would have been sure of catching me.
One of the galleys appeared at the head of the creek. She was going at full speed and did not notice me until she had gone quite a way past. When she saw my frigate, she swung round and the other galley followed suit. Then the two of them dropped their sails and rowed toward me with a great deal of shouting.
One galley came right up to me, so that my poop touched her prow. The captain, brandishing a cutlass, got on the bulwarks but, for fear of being pushed overboard by his riotous crew, stopped any of his men from making me go aboard or even passing me a cable.
I saw that by ill-discipline and bad seamanship both of the galleys were in wild disorder and when the tumult reached its height, I saw my chance to escape. I let go the rope in my hand, the boom swung out and my sail filled. We put some distance between ourselves and the galleys, and then I had the other sail hauled up.
Both of the galleys were equally crippled by having dropped their sails down on the long bridge which ran from poop to prow above the rowers, and by the time they had got them up again, caught the wind, and were after me, I was more than a mile away.
Quickly, though, they came out of the creek and sailed to seaward of me, so that to make the open sea, I had to cross their bows. Then the wind dropped and I had no hope of being able to do so. They chased me for eight turns of the hourglass without gaining a foot. The wind blew again, and I raised canvas. They, too, hoisted, and they gained on me. Their artillery opened up: One shot hit us and carried away the standard on the mainmast.
Another shot hit my rigging. The mainyard tumbled, and I was frightened that we should be sunk and even more worried when I saw the enemy’s captain use an old sailor’s trick. Everyone on board had crowded to the prow to take a look at my frigate and by their weight they were slowing the speed of the galley. But the captain set up a barricade in the middle of the ship and ordered his crew to stay astern of it. This made the bows of the galley lighter; she bucked and gained on me foot by foot.
I saw that all was nearly up for us, so I put my wits to work. The position was very simply that if I could not get across their bows to the open sea, I was sure to be run aground before long.
But there was in those parts, just offshore, an island called Samos. There was a sort of harbor there, which the Maltese galleys used to hide in before pouncing on their prey. I steered toward this island and sent a sailor up the mast with a bowl of gunpowder. I ordered him to make two smoke signals and to wave his hat in the direction of the island.
Seeing me do this, the Turks thought there must be some galleys of the Religion at anchor there. They dropped their sails, changed course, reset them, and fled with such speed that in a short time they had vanished from sight. I then made for Nicaria Island, where I felt safe as there were some good high lookout posts.
The next night, I sailed for Micono, where I came across a French coaster, loaded with goats’ skins, coming from Chios.
Her captain told me a story about a captain with two galleys he had met who said that he had chased a frigate. This captain had nearly died of grief at having let the frigate slip between his fingers. The captain, he told me, was Soliman of Gatanea, the man who had once been a Genoese butcher.
When I said to the Frenchman, "That frigate was mine," he was so excited that he could not stop talking about it. He warned me that Soliman had gone to wait in ambush for me as I left the archipelago. So I decided to make direct for Malta. I waited for a good north wind, set sail, and was soon out of danger.
I arrived at Malta, and everyone was astonished at the story I had to tell. We then divided the money and the damasks, but in doing so put enough aside to make a present to the church of Nuestra Señora de la Gracia. Our gift was a set of vestments for high mass, a chasuble and two dalmatics. And believe me, after a voyage like ours, it was a thanks offering most willingly given. The whole of Malta was very happy to know for certain that there would be no Turkish expedition that year.

A few days later, I was sent out again. I was given two fine frigates, one belonging to the grand master, the other to Commander Monreal, my old master. This was only a looting expedition. I was not asked to get any information.
I sailed from Malta with these two frigates. Both of them had thirty-seven men aboard, and each ship looked as impressive as a galley. I steered toward North Africa and first sighted land at Cape Bonandrea, a run of some seven hundred miles. I coasted along the salt flats until I came to Port Soliman, where I stopped to take on fresh water. Here, I was unlucky as a large number of Moors were then passing that way on a pilgrimage to Mecca to visit the tomb of Muhammad.
They laid an ambush for me at a well to which I was sending for water. Around this well was a wall of rushes. And since the Moors were naked and brown skinned, my men did not see them hidden among the rushes.
Twenty-seven sailors with barrels were working, with sixteen soldiers with muskets to protect them, when the Moors attacked. The sailors left their barrels and ran, leaving the soldiers to cover their retreat with musket fire. When I heard the sound of firing, I landed with twenty more soldiers.
The Moors had already nearly driven my men back to the beach when they saw help coming. Then they stopped. They had captured three soldiers and had killed five, a loss which I could ill afford. We took two of them: an old man of sixty and another scarcely any younger.
We showed a white flag and bargained for the release of our soldiers. I offered them an exchange of two for two and a price for my third.
"No, no," they replied, "you’ve got to buy back all three. You can keep the two Moors."
There the matter rested until they called again saying, "How much will you give us for your barrels full of water?"
"I don’t need water," I replied, "but I do want my Christians back."
But the truth was that I needed the water much more than the men, as I only had two more jars aboard. If they did not let us have our barrels, we were well and truly lost. So I said to them lightly, "How much do you want for each barrel?"
"A golden sequin," came the reply.
Asking was one thing, giving another. We had almost no money at all aboard, as we had only just left port and had captured nothing. So I replied, "We have no gold aboard."
"Then give us biscuits," they replied.
"Agreed," I shouted. I then gave them a shieldful of biscuits for each barrel. This suited me very well, as I had plenty of biscuits.
I recovered all twenty-seven barrels and then opened up negotiations for swapping the two Moors for my two Christians, but they were adamant.
As night was falling, I buried the dead on the beach and put a cross at the head of each grave. I then told the Moors I would be back in the morning.
In the morning, I was horrified to find the bodies I had buried lying exposed on the seashore. I thought that they must have been dug up by wolves. But when I got nearer, my spirit chilled. I saw that each body had lost its ears and nose and every heart had been torn out. I thought I would go out of my mind at the sight. I showed a white flag and when they had come near I tried to explain to them what a foul thing they had done.
"We are taking these bits and pieces," they replied, "as a thanks offering to Muhammad."
When I learned that my three live soldiers had been butchered, too, I angrily swore that I would cut my own Moorish prisoners up in the same way.
"Do as you like," they replied. "We think much more highly of ten sequins than thirty Moors."
Then in their presence I cut off the ears and noses of their prisoners and threw them on the ground in front of them, shouting, "Take these to your Muhammad, too!"
We went back aboard, taking the two Moors. I tied them back to back and in full view of those ashore I threw them into the sea.
I then sailed toward Alexandria.
I found nothing on the coast, so I decided to go to Damietta, which was on the Nile Delta. I went up the Nile to see what I could find but met nothing. I turned back and crossed over in the direction of Syria, a distance of 130 miles. I sighted the shores of the Holy Land, which were only some thirty-five miles from Jerusalem. I passed on and entered the harbor of Jaffa. There were a few barks there, whose crews all fled ashore at my approach. From there, I went along the coast to Castel Pelegrin, and from there to Haifa.
On a little point on one side of the harbor, there was a hermitage, a musket shot or less from the sea. It was said that the Blessed Virgin Mary rested there during her flight to Egypt.
I carried on to the port of St. John of Acre. I found some ships there, but they were too big for me to take on, so I had to go on to Beirut.

I called at Surras on the way. The two cities there belonged to the emir of Surras, a Turkish prince who was so powerful that he did not even acknowledge the supremacy of the Grand Turk. One of his brothers had been to Malta once, and he had been feasted. honored, and finally sent home with a thousand presents from the Religion. For that reason, all the ships of the Religion could take shelter in that port and were always generously welcomed. If any Christian prince got it into his head to do a pilgrimage to the Holy City, it was most helpful to have the use of this port and the friendship of people who could put thirty thousand men, mostly cavalry, into the field if protection were needed.
I sailed into the harbor. The emir was away, but when the governor saw that I was of the Religion, he welcomed me just as warmly and sent aboard a free supply of fresh provisions.
I sailed on toward Tripoli in Syria – a fine city. I stood out to sea, when I came abreast of it, so as not to look an easy prey for the two galleys which I saw in the port. I then made for Tortosa Island, which was close to the Galilee coast. It was a flat little island and covered with flowers the whole year round. There was a legend that Our Lady and St. Joseph hid from Herod there, but I would not vouch for its truth. We scraped our ship’s bottom and lived well on the young pigeons there. There were millions of them; they made their nests in the holes of the ancient water cisterns.
It went without saying that I kept a very good lookout in those dangerous waters. One day, the lookouts informed me that a ship had been sighted coming toward us, so I went to have a look myself and recognized her as a Turkish caramousel.
I rallied my men and waited. When she came abreast of the island, I went out to meet her. She fought well, as all Turkish ships did, but was beaten in the end. They had thirteen dead and I, five – four sailors and a soldier. I captured twenty-eight, some fit and some wounded, and among them a Jewish peddler with a store of junk. The ship, however, had a cargo of linen and Cyprus soap.
I put all the men from my supporting frigate aboard the caramousel and instructed them to tow their frigate and sail straight back to Malta. I had not enough men to keep both frigates fully armed as well as man the caramousel; in that way, I kept at least my own ship in good fighting trim.
From Tortosa, I went up the coast to Alexandretta, the place where we sacked the warehouses. From there, we sailed along the Caramanian coast to Rhodes. Our route was as follows. We went from Alexandretta to Bayas and from there to the Langue de Bagaja. From there, we traveled on to Escollo Provenzal, Port Caballero, Estanamur, Satalia, Port Genca, Port Venice, Cape Silidonia, and Finica, where there was a good fortress. After that, we went to Port Caracol, El Cacamo, Castilrojo, Seven Capes, Aguas Frías, Lamagra, and finally to Rhodes. I sailed next on to Scarpanto Isle and then toward Crete.
While making for Crete, I got caught in a burrasca squall, which drove me for two days and two nights back north into the Levant archipelago. I first hit land at lali, where the story ran that the body of either St. Cosmas or St. Damian was found. The Greeks there sold me fresh victuals, and as soon as I had them stowed aboard I set off for Stampalia, the place where they had wanted me to marry and settle down. When I got there, everyone came down to meet me, thinking that I had come to keep my promise.
I did not dare land! I told them that I had come with the galleys of the Religion and that I had made this trip just to see them and to ask if they needed anything and that I had to rejoin the fleet at Paros immediately.
They were very disappointed, but they all sent aboard gifts of fresh food. They told me also that after my last visit they had gone in a bark to look for Captain Jácomo Panaro. They brought him back and entertained him until the arrival of a French schooner that had come from Alexandria. They next put him aboard with a store of food and ten sequins for his expenses and instructions that he was to be taken to Christian lands.

I took leave of them and again set off for Malta. In the Gulf of Nauplia in Romania, I fell on a caramousel loaded with corn and a crew of seven Turks and six Greeks. The Greeks swore that the corn was theirs but under torture changed their minds. So I put the Greeks ashore and made for the Maina promontory, which was quite near.
This part of Morea was very bare, and the inhabitants were Greek Christians. Although they were Christians, one would not think so from the way they behaved. They had no proper homes but lived in caves and were renowned robbers. They had no elected chief; they obeyed only the strongest man of the tribe. Despite the fact that Maina was in the heart of Turkish territory, the Turks had not tamed these people. Not only had they not subdued them, these hill men used to rob the Turks of their cattle!
They were very fine archers. I saw one day a man wager to shoot an orange off his son’s head at twenty paces. He shot it off with such nonchalance that I was amazed.
Their shields were made of leather and were elongated rather than round. Their swords were broad and often more than four feet long. They were also formidable runners and swimmers. Also, they liked to be baptized four or five times, or, for that matter, as many times as they could find anyone to do it. The reason for this was that godfathers, according to their custom, were expected to give them some fine present. So every time I passed these shores I always baptized a few!
I got to Port Quoalla on the Maina coast with my caramousel of corn. Immediately, an old crony of mine called Antonaque, who was then chief of the Mainotees, came aboard. He was well dressed and wearing damascened daggers with thin silver chains. At his side he had a cutlass with a silver-mounted hilt.
He came up to me and embraced me. I ordered a drink to be served him as was the custom and told him that I was towing a caramousel of corn. I asked him if he was interested in buying it. He said he was, and we settled for eight hundred sequins and the boat. In fact, the boat by itself was worth more. He asked me to wait until the next day to give him time to collect so much money. At midnight, these bandits cut the caramousel’s anchor cables and dragged her ashore.
By the time I saw what they had done, there was nothing I could do about it. At dawn, we visited the ship on the beach to see what was left, but these brigands had worked so hard during the night that there was scarcely any corn left aboard her.
Soon after, my crony, with two of his friends, came aboard and said, "Please excuse me. None of this was of my doing. You know as well as I what sort of people these Mainotees are."
I pretended not to care at all about the loss of the ship and ordered breakfast to be served for the four of us. But while we were having breakfast, I had the anchor weighed and we sailed out of harbor.
"My friend, put me ashore," he pleaded.
"I’m only on a little reconnaissance voyage," I replied.
But once out of the harbor, I said, "Breeches down, my friend!" "This is treachery," he wailed.
"Yes, but you have done worse to me. Come along now, less talk and breeches down! Consider yourself fortunate if I don’t hang you from the yardarm."
He stripped himself naked and four of my strong boys pinned him down and gave him more than a hundred strokes with a rope end dipped in tar. Then, as was the custom in the galleys, I had him washed in salt and vinegar. While he was undergoing this treatment, I said to him, "Send for my eight hundred sequins or you hang."
He saw that I was not just having a joke at his expense and immediately ordered one of his men ashore. I did not want to go back to the harbor, so this man threw himself into the water and swam ashore. In an hour or even less, he came back bringing the eight hundred sequins in a goat’s skin. I dismissed them all and the three of them dived into the sea and swam home. From that day on, in Malta and in the archipelago, I have been jokingly called "the Mainotees’ friend."
I set sail for Sapienza, and from there took the high seas to Malta, where I arrived in five days. Everyone was pleased to see me again. The soap and the slaves that I had sent ahead in the caramousel, along with my supporting frigate, had already been sold. I divided the spoils between the two crews and I did well out of it. My quiraca was able to go on with the building of her house. On top of the first spoils, our crew alone divided the eight hundred sequins and the seven slaves which we had brought.

We had a good time for a few days, but soon I was instructed to rearm the frigate and to prepare for sea; but I was not told where I was to go.
This is how it was. News had come that the Turks were equipping a huge squadron and no one knew where it was aiming to attack. There was a great deal of concern about it in Malta. To put an end to their worrying and prepare themselves for the worst, the knights, who were by no means fools, thought up an excellent plan.
When the Grand Turk prepared an expedition, the Jews had to make an interest-free loan. When the fleet was to stay in Turkish waters, the sum was so much; when it was to go outside Turkish waters, the sum demanded was more.
The collector for the Constantinople and Caramania districts used to live in Salonica. We knew that he was living at that time with his family in a fortified house some five miles from the town.
My lords, the knights, told me to go and get him. It was just as if they had asked me to go down to the market and buy some pears!
They gave me a spy and a bomb. I took my leave and, with my trust in God, reached Salonica. But I did have trouble, as Salonica was in the middle of Turkey and one had first to go through the archipelago.
Sixteen men and I jumped ashore with our bomb and our spy – I did not trust that spy an inch – and we got to the collector’s house, which was about a mile from the sea. I laid the bomb, fired it, and it did its work well. We went in and took the Jew, his wife, his two little daughters, a houseboy, and an old woman. All the men of the house took to their heels.
Without even allowing my prisoners time to put on a coat or my men to steal an inch of cloth, I ordered everyone back immediately to the beach. Despite all the speed with which I had carried out this operation, just as we were getting aboard four hundred horsemen galloped into the water up to their horses’ necks and there yelled abuse at me. But they were too late, and we got aboard safely.
The horsemen swung round and started careering round the countryside, while I fired five-pound cannonballs at them.
The Jew offered me anything I asked for if only I would release him. But I would not risk it, though I could easily have done so because I quickly learned from him what I had come all that way to discover. The Turkish expedition was to be directed against the Venetians and the Grand Turk was going to demand a million sequins from them with the threat that if they did not pay he would capture Crete, which was a Venetian island, and as long as Sicily, and lay in Turkish waters.
I consoled the Jew by telling him that we were going to Malta and not to Venice, where he would have had a hard time of it. On my course, I met a Greek bark and I asked them where they had come from.
"From Despalmadores in Chios," they replied. "Are there any galleys there?" I asked.
"No," they replied, "Soliman of Catania, the bey of Chios, has sailed in his galley La Bastarda and left his wife in his summer pavilion at Despalmadores."
Then my pilot said, "By God, we must capture her and carry her off to Malta! I know the house as though it were my own. And now Soliman is away, we shall find the place unguarded."
Having the company that I had aboard, I was not willing to chance it. But my pilot tempted me so much, assuring me that it would be easy, that in the end we did it. And it proved even easier than the pilot had promised.
We waited for nightfall and, at midnight, we went ashore, ten of us and the pilot. The pilot went straight up to the house as though he owned it, knocked on the door and talked about Soliman being expected back any minute. The door was opened for us and we all went in. Without the slightest violence, we picked up the renegade wife of Soliman. She was a Hungarian and the most beautiful woman I had ever set eyes on. We then laid our hands on Soliman’s two putillo boys, a renegade and two Christian slaves, one a Corsican, the other Albanian. We looted a bed and all the clothes we could find without anyone making a murmur of complaint.
We went back to the ship and sailed as fast as we possibly could until we got out of the archipelago and God granted us a favorable wind.
The Hungarian was not the legitimate wife but only the concubine of Soliman. But I treated her with great courtesy. I learned later that Soliman, thinking that I had slept with her, condemned me in my absence and swore to search me out and have me outraged by six negroes and then impaled.
But he did not have the good luck to catch me, even though he finally had portraits of me made and put up in various Levant and Barbary ports. He wanted people to recognize me and send me on to him, should I fall into their hands.
These portraits were made in Malta and were taken away by the Turks who had come to bargain for the ransom of the Hungarian concubine and the harem boys. This happened the next year when Soliman became king of Algiers.
I arrived in Malta and was received as well as you might imagine, especially as everyone could relax when they heard my news. The Italian infantry, which had been raised in Naples and Rome and was on its way, was sent back.
My pilot was not so fortunate. In less than four months, while he was raiding in a schooner, the Turks took him. They skinned him alive and stuffed his skin with straw and put it on the main gate of the city of Rhodes, where it can still be seen.
He was a Greek, born at Rhodes, and the most capable pilot who ever sailed those seas.

While I was in Malta squandering my money, which had been earned the hard way, I surprised my quiraca in bed with a friend of mine. Imagine, being in bed with my acquaintance while I was being good enough to build her a house! Well, she ran away and hid.
I ran my sword through him twice and left him for dead. But he recovered and, before he was mended, fled from Malta fearing that I would kill him.
Though everybody begged me, men and women alike, to take her back, I could not see why I should. Especially as I was then able to take my pick of the other quiracas, who were fighting over me as though I were some vacant post in the government.
I stayed in Malta, without leaving once, for many months; it was a miracle. Then, at last, I was sent to Barbary with a frigate. I went and returned in nine days, bringing back a coaster loaded with enough fine cotton to open a shop, and fourteen slaves as well. It was, for me, a very profitable voyage.
In the days that followed, a Catalan galleon arrived. It was on its way from Alexandria to Spain and was loaded with all sorts of luxuries. This ship reminded me of my country, and I thought of my mother to whom I had never written and who had had no news of me. I decided to ask the grand master for permission to go home. He agreed, though he did not wish to lose me. And when the time came for our farewells, he put his arms around me and laid his cheek against mine.

CHAPTER SIX

I went aboard this galleon, the St. John, and in six days we arrived in Barcelona.
There I learned that the court had moved up to Valladolid and that new promotions to the rank of captain were being made. Because this meant that new infantry companies were being raised, I made all speed to Valladolid without going first to Madrid.
I presented my papers at the Council of War. One of the councillors was Don Diego Brochero, who later became the grand prior of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem in Castille and Leon. He took to me he already knew all about me – and asked if I wanted to be a lieutenant in one of the many companies that were being raised. I said that I would, and the next day when I went to see him he said to me, "Go kiss the hands of Captain Don Pedro Xaraba del Castillo for the honor he has done you in trusting you with his standard."
I presented a memorandum to the Council of War asking them to approve my new post. This they did, taking into consideration the modest services I had done for my country.
I then bought two drums, one for each of the drummer boys who had enlisted with me, and an impressive flag. The captain gave me my commission and the right to raise my flag in the town of Ecija and in the Marquisate of Pliego.
I got mules and, with a sergeant, my two drummer boys, and my personal servant, we set off for Madrid. We arrived there in four days.
My first stop was at my mother’s house. When she saw so many mules at the door, she did not know what to think. Then I went up to her and knelt down and asked for her blessing, saying, "I am your son Alonsillo."
The poor woman could not believe her eyes and was frightened because she had married again. She felt as guilty about having done so, as if she had committed some fearful crime, and she was terrified that her grown-up son, and a soldier, too, would not approve. But, after all, for one who had already had so many children, it made no difference.
I comforted her and told her not to worry about it. Then I excused myself and went to take rooms at the inn, as there was no room in my mother’s house. It was small even for them.
The next day, I decked myself out in my smartest military dress. With my soldiers looking their best and my servant behind me carrying my lance, I went to pay my respects to my stepfather. They invited me to dine with them that day – heaven only knew if they had enough for themselves – so I sent them all the food that they would need for the meal.
With the dessert, I called for my two little sisters. I gave them some toys, which I had brought from abroad, and cloth for some dresses and for suits for my three little brothers. As I was not poor, there was something for everybody. I also gave my mother thirty escudos, and with them the good lady thought herself rich! I again asked her blessing and the next day departed for Ecija, recommending her to respect her new husband.

I arrived in Ecija and presented my commission to the councillors who were then in session. They gave me permission to fly my flag on the Palma Tower. The drums rolled, I made the customary proclamation, and set about enlisting soldiers. This did not prove too difficult, as the sheriff and the gentlemen of the town were kind enough to give me their support.
When men enrolled, they immediately picked up the military habit of gambling. It was also a custom in the army that the drummer boy kept a terra-cotta jar for the pool, and, in the evening, he would break the jar open and with the proceeds the soldiers would buy dinner.
Our guardroom was at the bottom of the Palma Tower, and it had a wrought-iron grill looking onto the street. One day, four roughs called in at the guardroom. They had been in before but had never done any harm. However, this time they broke open the earthenware money jar and counted out the money at their leisure. It came to twenty-seven reales . One of them pocketed the lot and said to the drummer boy, who was the only one of my men present, "Tell your lieutenant that some of his friends had great need of this money."
The little drummer boy rushed to call the corporal, but when they had both returned the men had gone. The little drummer then came to find me to make his report.
"Go back to the guardroom," I said to him, "and make your report to me there."
When I arrived there he said to me, "Sir, Acuna, Amador, and some others came in here. They broke the money box and took twenty-seven reales from it. They then said to me, ’Tell your lieutenant that some friends of his needed it.""
"You silly little fool!" I replied. "Does it matter that these gentlemen have taken some money away? Any time they come, let them have what they ask for, just as if I myself were asking you. If they take the money, you can be sure it is because they badly need it." I said this because I knew that there were many of their friends listening and that they would tell the robbers straightaway. I learned later that they had said among themselves, "What a frightened little mouse that lieutenant is!"
I then set about planning some suitable way of punishing this insult to myself and to my troops. I bought four muskets and kept them in an armory close by the guardroom. I already had twelve short pikes there. A few days passed, and these robbers took courage again and went into the guardroom.
I had enrolled 120 soldiers (it was true that 100 of them were billeted out in the Marquisate of Pliego). However, I had twenty with me, all veterans, whom I was personally maintaining and paying.
Well, when the robbers went into the guardroom, they had no suspicion that I was waiting for them. I ordered my men to get their muskets, light their firing tapers, and enter the room behind me. For musketeers, I had chosen only my most reliable men and had ordered them to fire at the first sign of resistance. I had the rest of my men stand by the door with their pikes. With a lance in hand, I went in and said, "Drop your weapons, you low thieves!"
They couldn’t believe that it was not some joke, but when they saw that I was in earnest they grabbed for the hilts of their swords. My musketeers then stepped forward ready to fire and shouted, "Surrender!"
They then gave up their swords. I stripped them down to their breeches and led them away with ropes round their necks like dogs and handed them over to Don Fabian de Monroy, the sheriff. He was delighted to see them. When he had looked them over, he said, "That’s the one who killed my watchdog, and this one here murdered my servant."
The whole lot of them were put in prison, and within two weeks those two were hanged.
I kept their capes, their swords, jerkins, stockings, garters, hats, and two of their embroidered waistcoats as well as such money as they had with them. With it, I fed and clothed some of my poor soldiers. So I got repayment for the twenty-seven reales in the end.

Soon after, I learned that there were some men pretending to be soldiers, roving the countryside, begging in the name of charity from the peasants and robbing them.
I took my four musketeers and a well-behaved mule and went to search them out. I got wind that they were at Cordova, so I went there. At Cordova, I found Captain Molina raising another company of infantry.
I stopped at Las Rejas Inn and then went alone to the local brothel street to have a look and to see if I could track down these thieves there. I had already learned what these men looked like. While I was talking with one of the many girls there, a gentleman, but not one carrying any badge or staff of office, came up to me with his servant and said, "Where have you got that jerkin?" (It was made of cowhide.)
"On my back," I retorted facetiously.
"Well, take it off," he said.
"I have no wish to," I replied.
His servant then said, "Then I’ll make you."
He started to try to do so, and I had to draw my sword. They were not slow to do the same, but I was quicker. I wounded the gentleman, whom I soon discovered to be the senior policeman of the town and an unscrupulous rogue in the bargain.
Hearing the fight, the women of this cul-de-sac locked their house doors and the big door which closed the street from the rest of the town. I found myself master of this very narrow street when I went out, but I had no idea what to do. It was the first time I had been in quite that sort of brothel street. So I went up to the gate at the end of the road. But it was securely locked. There was not a soul to speak to or anyone I could ask for the key. Everyone had carried or followed the police officer and his servant into one of the houses where he was presumably well known.
Then I heard someone knocking on the gate. A little urchin popped up from nowhere and opened it and there was the town’s sheriff and as many men as you may well guess behind him. They were all ready to attack me, so I threatened them with my sword saying, "Forbear, gentlemen!"
It was all the same, if there had been one assailant or one thousand, because they could only come through the door one at a time. Meanwhile they were shouting, "Seize him!"
But no one fancied the risk of going through the gate. There would certainly have been some ugly incident if Captain Molina had not come with the sheriff. He recognized me and said, "All right, lieutenant, all right. Sheathe your sword."
I recognized him as soon as he spoke, and I replied, "All right, but first make these gentlemen sheathe theirs; I am only defending my skin."
The sheriff, hearing me referred to as lieutenant, asked, "Where does this lieutenant come from?"
Molina replied, "From a company he is raising in Ecija." "But what right has he to come here killing the elders of the law?"
I then came forward and personally explained all that had happened. I tried to justify myself further by explaining that I had only come there in search of robbers. But he ordered me back to Ecija that very day all the same, and I said that I would obey. In the end, I took my leave of the sheriff and went away with the captain and his men.
I went back to the inn and, while I was packing my bags to leave the town, one of my four soldiers came to me and said, "There are two gentlemen below who are asking to speak to you."
I went down and said to them, "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"
One of them replied, "You, sir, you are the lieutenant?" "Yes," I replied, "and what do you want of me?"
With a great show of twirling his moustaches, one of these gentlemen slowly set himself to explain: "It is as salutary to know men of goodwill – such as your grace – as it is to serve them. We have been sent by a good lady, whose husband was unfortunately hanged at Granada on the false witness of perjurers. She is a widow with no responsibilities, and well set up in life. She admires your grace and begs you to join her for dinner this evening."
This was so much Greek to me and I could not make head or tail of it, so I said, "Gentlemen, would you be kind enough to tell me what this lady sees to admire in me to be worth this honor?" "Is it not enough to have fought like a giant and wounded our chief of police, who is incidentally the worst robber in Cordova?" they replied.
Then I guessed that the lady was one of the girls in the brothel. So I said to them that I much appreciated the favor but that I was due to be made a captain shortly and that I could not risk losing my promotion by not obeying the orders to leave town immediately. I added that I wished that it could be otherwise.
After that, I took leave of them and rode back through the night to Ecija. I looked in at the guardroom and found all quiet. There had been no troubles while I had been away, which was good news to me.
Three days later a soldier came to me and said, "Sir, at the Sun Tavern there is a woman who is asking for you. She has come from other parts and she’s not bad-looking, either."
I went to the inn, as any young man would and met this lady. The innkeeper had given her his private room. She appeared to me to be a good-looking young woman and when I asked her where she came from she replied, "From Granada."
Then she went on to tell me that she had run away from her husband and that she had come to me for protection. She begged me to hide her away somewhere.
It seemed a good idea to me, so I took her into my house and entertained her, all the time keeping her hidden from public view. I was beginning to fall in love with her, when one day she said to me, "There is something I must tell you, but I have not the courage."
I pressed her to tell me. And, having made me promise that I would not be angry with her, she began: "Sir, I first saw your Grace in a house in Cordova. You were so brave and so strong that day that I had to run after you. Oh, how easily you wounded that robbing police officer! When you would not come and dine with me, not even when I sent the most respectable men to invite you, I was even more determined to follow you." She paused, and then went on, "Since I was left alone, after the hanging of my man in Granada, many famous men have sought me out, but of all these fine gentlemen, none was as worthy as yourself to sleep at my side."
She then pointed out quite clearly that in the whole of Andalusia, no woman was a better investment than herself: If I doubted her word, she told me to ask the "madame" of the Ecija brothel.
I was flabbergasted with her story and, as I had grown fond of her, I could really see nothing wrong in what she had done. In fact, it seemed to me that she had paid me a pretty compliment in coming to seek me out.
Then, on top of all this, the commissariat captain came to review the men, to give us our marching orders, and our stores. I summoned all the men I had in Pliego Marquisate and in all I lined up 193 on parade.
We took the road through Estremadura for Lisbon with light hearts. I took my woman with me with the confidence that no one could possibly guess that she was a lady of easy virtue rather than a colonel’s daughter. She was young, beautiful, and no fool; everyone treated her with respect.

CHAPTER SEVEN

My captain had gone home from the court and waited there until he had heard that the company was on the march. He joined us at Llerena and was very pleased to see so fine a company. He said that he was astonished that I had known how to discipline recruits so well. We stayed good friends in proportion to the amount of flattery I gave him.
On the next night’s stop, we received orders not to enter Portugal but to occupy ourselves in Estremadura Province. We marched from village to village for a while and finally arrived at a place called Hornachos, where, with the exception of the priest, everyone was Morisco [5].
I settled myself in the house of one of these no-goods, and flew my flag on it. I made the same house serve as the guardroom as well. That evening a soldier named Vilches came to me and said, "Sir, I’ve made a find."
"How’s that?" I asked.
"I’m living in a house," he explained, "where I haven’t been able to get a proper bite of food because the people say they have only got jam and figs in the house. I looked round the house hoping to find some chickens and, in a room at the far end of the house, I found the round cover of a corn cellar. I scraped round it and found that it moved. I hauled it up and everything was dark below. Hoping that there would be some chickens, I lit a candle, which I had with me, and went down the ladder which I found already there in place. When I got to the bottom, I was almost sorry I ever started. Against the walls there were three tombs, much whitewashed, as, in fact, was the whole cellar. I think there must be some Moors buried there. If your grace would like to go there, and if these are tombs, we are sure to reap some jewels for our trouble as Moors are always buried with their gems." "Let us go," I said.
I took my lance and we two went alone to the house. We went in and asked the woman of the house for a candle. She was frightened at seeing me, for her husband was not at home, but she gave us one. We went down the corn cellar and, when I saw the graves, I agreed wholly with the soldier. They looked like Moorish tombs.
I dug the blade of my lance in one of them to lever up its top. In a moment, a plank, which was under the plaster top, gave. I discovered that the tomb was a large coffer, made of wood but decorated with plaster so as to look like a tomb. And it was full of muskets and shot!
I was delighted. I saw myself arming the whole company with them and our being more respected on our marches. Up to then, we were only armed with short pikes, some of the men not even having those, and we had lost face in more than one town.
I opened the other tombs and in each was the same. I said to the soldier, "Stay here until I find the commissariat captain and report it to him."
I went to find him immediately and told him all about it. He followed me with his bodyguard and his secretary. When he saw what was in the tomb, he said to me, "You have done a fine service to the king; now go back to your lodgings. Not a word to anyone about this; it is a serious matter. Now not a word, remember."
He gave the same instructions to the soldier, who came back to my lodgings with me. When we got there he said, "Sir, I still haven’t had any dinner this evening."
I gave him eight reales to go to the inn and he was as happy as Christmas Day. I wanted to report all this to my captain, but in the end I did not tell him – first because I had been bound to secrecy and secondly because we were not getting on well together as he was after my woman.
Very early the next morning, the captain sent the drummer boys to me with orders to march. I could not understand why, as we were to have stayed at Hornachos three days. Still, I obeyed and left.
As we were about to start off, the commissariat captain said to me, "God be with you." Then he added, "Those Moriscos, by the way, had royal permission to hold those arms, so don’t think about it again. But if they hadn’t had permission there would have been a fine ado. Anyhow, let it be, and say nothing about it."
We left for Palomas, stayed there two days, and then went on to a village called Guarena, where the men had a quarrel with the villagers. It ended in a brawl with three dead and a few wounded on both sides.
During the fight, the soldiers were shouting, "God’s blood! If we only had some of those muskets from the Hornachos cellar!" My soldier had already told his companions about them, and I myself had spoken about them more than four times.
The quarrel settled down and we moved on. The commissariat captain arrived there a few days later to punish the villagers for setting on us. This captain was a regular officer. I will not tell you his name for his sake, but you will see later in this story what a stir these tombs full of arms raised. But let us leave that until its proper place.

My captain at that time was lusting after the woman I had with me. He had let her know this quite clearly by all sorts of signs and messages, but he had gotten no response from her. She had grown wise after all the promiscuity of her past.
We arrived at Almendralejo and as night fell I billeted the company. I had dinner with my woman and then sent her off to an early bed as she was three months with child. Then the captain sent for me and said, "Take eight men, go up the Alange road, and wait in ambush there. I have had reliable information that four soldiers are intending to desert tonight on that route."
I believed him, had my pony saddled, and started off, leaving my woman in bed asleep.
When the captain heard that I had left, he went to my lodging to pay a visit to Isabel de Royas Í– that was her name. One thing led to another, and finally he wanted to get in bed with her.
She defended herself bravely and cried out for help. The captain grabbed a mallet of the sort used in a game called mallo – a delightful game, by the way – to silence her. He attacked her so savagely that the owner of the house and the men on guard were compelled to come in and drag him off her. By then, she was in such a state that she was seized with a flux and aborted within three hours.
All this time, I was in the countryside, aware of nothing that was happening, watching for my fugitives. When I saw it was only two hours before dawn, I said, "Let us get back, men. This joke has gone on long enough; that is if it is a joke the captain has played on me. Anyhow, these men would have fled earlier in the night than this if they were going to do it at all."
I returned to my lodging. When I got to my room I found Isabel groaning with pain. I asked her what had happened, and she said, "I fell off a donkey last night so hard that I had a flux and, worse, I miscarried."
I noticed several soldiers, who were at the door, whispering to each other while she was saying this. It made me suspicious, so I pressed her to tell me the true story. But I could not drag another word from her. I went out of the room and called to me a soldier whom I trusted and asked him what had happened.
"Sir," he replied, "such brutality has been committed here that I cannot keep quiet about it. The captain came here and got Señora Isabel in this condition, just because she was a modest woman. By God, I swear that all of my companions and I will have deserted before nightfall. We left our homes for you, sir, and not for this disgraceful captain, whom we know nothing about." "Calm yourself," I said. "Whatever the captain has done, Señora Isabel must have done something to deserve it."
"No, as long as God lives, no! It was because she would not let him get in bed with her that he attacked her."
The facts seemed plain enough, so I ordered my pony to be fed and packed a bag with some money and my papers. I went along to the captain’s lodging. His Flemish servant Claudio answered the door and said that his master was asleep and that he could not wake him at such an hour. I told him that a courier had come from Madrid and only then was the servant willing to awaken his master. After a few moments, the captain shouted to me, "Wait a minute."
He got half-dressed and asked me to come in. I went in with my sword in my hand and said, "You’re a low sort of gentleman to have done what you did last night. I’m going to kill you for it." He made a reach for his sword and shield, but justice was stronger. I lunged my sword into his chest and he fell to the ground, moaning that he was dead.
His servant tried to come to help him, but he did not succeed. In the little scuffle I had with him, I sliced a chunk of flesh out of his fat head.
I mounted my pony and took the road for Cacares. I had some friends there, knights of St. John, and I told them the whole story. Then next day, they sent news to the commissariat captain, who arrived at Almendralejo in no time. Later, I learned that he held an inquiry there and that he had condemned me to be executed on the charge of having attempted to kill my captain in his own quarters.
One must remember that one can do nothing worse in the army than show lack of respect for one’s superior officers.
The findings of the inquiry and the sentence were sent to Madrid. However, it was all in my favor, except that I had not been obedient to my superior officer, who, though he had been perilously near death, eventually recovered from his wounds.
I wrote to Don Diego Brochero, who was a knight of the Order of St. John, and he told me to come to the court, adding that he would see the affair through all right for me. So, on the advice of the knights at Cacares, I went to Madrid.
The council at Almendralejo gave Isabel, after her convalescence, the wherewithal to go to Badajoz to think out what was best for her. (I must explain that she had been without news of me for many days.) In this town, she opened shop in a bawdy house, and of all the brothels in Estremadura it was not the worst.
I arrived in Madrid and stayed with Don Diego Brochero. He had been at the conference at the Council of War and he told me that all the councillors were on my side.
He ordered me to present myself formally at the city prison, where I would write a memorandum to the council making myself their prisoner. I would beg them to look into my case. I subsequently awaited their decision and swore that what I had done was in no way connected with the king’s service.
My making myself a prisoner before I put up my memorandum was thought very well of, and materially helped my defense. Then out of the blue I was given a dispatch to take to Don Cristobal de Mora, viceroy and captain general of Portugal. I did not know what it contained, but Don Diego Brochero said to me, "Go on your way happy. You are carrying good news." But, for all his encouraging words, I left feeling thoroughly scared.
The companies were then still held up in Estremadura Province, but I did not meet them as I took a different route to Lisbon after Almendralejo. I passed many of the places which I had been through before and was given a good welcome as I had a name for trying to do good and never ill to the people I met.
I got to Almendralejo, where the two magistrates of the town welcomed me like some lost brother. I told them that I was carrying a dispatch from the king, and I inquired after Isabel. They told me that they had sent her off to Badajoz, where she had wanted to go when she was well. They said how sorry they were about the whole incident. They told me that the day after, half the men had deserted. I later learned that the captain had at that hour only 20 soldiers left out of his 150 or more. The captain made his ceremonial entrance into Lisbon with no more than fourteen men and a drummer boy; that I know as I made that entrance with him.
I said farewell to the magistrates and went straight on to Badajoz to find Isabel, for I still loved her. I found her earning her living in the brothel. When she saw me, she got up abruptly. closed the door and said, "Welcome, sir. But a word first, I pray you; please come with me." She led me into the "madame’s" part of the house and started to weep.
"Why are you crying?" I asked her.
"Because I am so happy to see you," she said, "and although your see me here, I swear I have not slept with a man since you left me." The madame backed her up, saying, "You can believe her. And I will be her witness. Four gentlemen of this town have showered presents on me to make me give Isabel to them, but I have not been able to make her agree." The madame paused. "She was certainly a wise girl to keep the respect of a fine man like your grace."
"I kiss your hand," I replied, "for the compliment." Isabel and I then set about deciding what next to do.
"I have six hundred reales and some nice things to set up house with. What would you like to do?" she asked.
"Since I am compelled to go on to Lisbon, let us both go," I suggested, and we agreed to do that. That evening I went to an inn and Isabel came to dine and sleep with me.
There were some men in that town who wanted to sleep with Isabel and as they had been unsuccessful they were determined to give whoever succeeded a bad time. So they brought the sheriff to my inn during the night to arrest me and turn me out of the town. They had told him I was the most double-dyed ruffian in the whole of Spain.
To cut the story short, they broke in on us in the middle of the night, and since there is always a great difference between a naked man and one with his clothes on, the sheriff took advantage of me and started to manhandle me as though I were a criminal. He ordered me off to prison. I got dressed and, when I had done so, said, "Señor, do not insult people until you know who they are."
I then told him who I was, and that I was carrying a dispatch for the Council of War. He knew my name already because of the Almendralejo scandal and I told him that this was the woman who had been attacked by the captain.
He was delighted to make my acquaintance when he learned who I was. He begged my pardon a thousand times, and complained that he had been quite led astray by the false allegations these men had made against me.
He asked me to stay inside the inn and to move on to Lisbon as soon as I conveniently could. He added that if I needed anything I had only to tell him and he would see that I got it. I thanked him and he went his way and I mine, back to bed. I stayed in the town two more days and everyone stared at me as though I were some prize bull.
I did not let Isabel go back to her brothel for anything. I had the master of the house bring all her goods and chattels. He did so but with a heavy heart at the thought of losing a pearl of such price forever.
We went on to Lisbon in easy stages and waited there for the infantry companies to arrive. After twenty days, mine arrived along with four others. They had come down the river from Alcantara. Before they disembarked I delivered my dispatch to Don Cristobal de Mora, the viceroy and captain general of Portugal. He was very polite and said to me, "Go down to the river, when the troops disembark, join your company and make the ceremonial entrance into the city with them."
I pointed out that the captain was likely to create a scene as I had not seen him since I had wounded him. Don Cristobal then sent his adjutant to take a message to him, informing him that I was to rejoin the company. The captain replied that he wanted to see Don Cristobal about it. He came, and Don Cristobal said, "Be patient. You have been given the king’s orders, but in a few days from now you will no longer have Contreras with you."
We landed our standard, which had been put aboard ship at Alcantara, and marched to the castle. We were reviewed and promptly disbanded, with the result that the captain and I parted company forever.
Don Cristobal de Mora gave me a month’s pay and permission to go to the court. With God’s help, I went my way. At Valladolid, I was offered eight escudos over and above my pay to serve in Sicily. I accepted it and went on alone. Isabel came with me as far as Valladolid, where I left her. There, later, she died doing that thing at which she was most proficient. May God forgive her.

I went to Madrid to see my mother and to ask her blessing. That done, I set off for Barcelona and went aboard a ship loaded with flags bound for Palermo. In ten days I got there and joined an infantry company commanded by Don Alonso Sánchez de Figuero.
In that year, 1604, the duke of Feria was governor of the kingdom of Sicily. The duke wanted at that time to equip some galleons for raiding and knowing that I was well broken-in to seafaring ways, invited me to command a ship. I accepted his offer.
I sailed for the Levant and I captured for the duke a flat-bottomed Egyptian riverboat, bursting with all the good things of the world. We captured it at Alexandria. I also took a little English galleon that had been raiding for three years; she was full of most strange objects. All the other things that happened on this cruise I will leave out, so as not to bore you with too many stories of the Levant..
With what I made out of this voyage I bought a stableful of horses – I was dripping with money – and I moved in the society of the Marquis of Villalba, the eldest son of the duke.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Preparations were in hand for an expedition to Barbary with Sicilian and Maltese galleys. Four were from Malta and six from Sicily. They were all under the orders of Adelantado of Castille, the general of the squadron.
He lost his life, and I shall tell you how.
We sailed for Barbary in the ten galleys. Adelantado ordered the men from the Sicilian squadron to leave their breastplates and chain-mail coats at Messina so that they should be able to fight more agilely.
We got to Zembra, an island eight miles off the Barbary mainland. A council of war was held, and it was decided that the troops should land at Hammamet. Hammamet was the town that we had captured several years before with the Maltese galleys.
In the small hours on the eve of the Assumption in 1605, we landed our men six miles from Hammamet. We marched across the sand dunes and arrived there an hour after sunrise. I was one of seven lieutenants in charge of scaling ladders. We were a squadron of five hundred men, everyone a Spaniard, and each with either a javelin or a musket, but wearing no breastplate.
We laid the ladders against the city walls and held them firm. And, as was usual with such Spanish soldiers and knights of Malta, we scaled them courageously, some toppling off, but the others always onward and up.
Briefly, we took the walls, cut off the heads of the guards in the ravelins, and found some janissaries among the garrison troops. The town gate was opened and our troops poured in. Another squadron, the one from Malta that must have numbered seven hundred, stood guard outside the town. We could scarcely move in the narrow streets since the streets were less than nine feet wide, and there were so many of us.
We captured some Moors and their women, but very few. The rest of them had hidden in the corn stores that one finds under every Moorish house.
Outside the walls, there were some vegetable gardens watered by waterwheels, where there were a few Moors on foot and others on horseback. I believe that there were fifteen on horse and about a hundred on foot, but they were kept in check by the Maltese squadron there.
Then the trumpet sounded the retreat. We left the ladders against the walls and that made our defeat total, as I shall explain. No one knew who had blown the retreat. But everyone gathered up the bits of loot he had found and ran back to the seashore to embark. The galleys by then had approached the town and were only a cannon shot from the beach. Without further orders, the men started to get into some of the longboats that were near the shore. When Adelantado heard of what was happening, he exclaimed, "Who on earth gave this order?" And no one knew.
Nothing could stop the troops’ retreat. Then the Maltese squadron, which had been outside the town, did the same. Seeing the others running off to embark, they broke ranks and fled to the beach with not a single Moor chasing them. This resulted in the whole army of twelve hundred men finding themselves together at the water’s edge.
Then the Moors in the vegetable gardens mounted the ladders we had left behind. These were lying against the wall on the landward side of the town. The Moors had not noticed that one of the town gates was open on the other side.
Then the Moors who had hidden in their corn cellars came out and, together with the others, peppered us from the town walls with their artillery. We had not spiked their guns, nor even dismounted them.
But if God ordained that this should happen, how could we be expected to keep our heads? And we certainly lost them that day.
On top of all these calamities a storm sprang up. What was more, even this storm was against us, as it blew off the sea onto the land so hard that all the galleys thought they were going to be wrecked on the beach.
The horsemen who were in the gardens and some men on foot attacked us on the land. The butchery was unbelievable. Not a soul resisted them. We were almost all there, about twelve hundred of us, and they were scarcely a hundred. They had no muskets but just lances, scimitars, and short wooden clubs.
This was surely manifestly a miracle and a chastisement for us ordered by God, and God is just.
Some of those on the beach with me threw themselves into the water; others threw themselves face down on the sand. The rout was so frantic that I saw a small boat on the beach in which thirty or even more men were sitting, believing themselves safe as long as they were in a boat, even if it was not in the sea.
All those who did not know how to swim drowned. As for myself, I stood fully dressed in the sea, with the water up to my chest. Under my clothes, I had on a coat of mail, worth fifty escudos and weighing twenty pounds, which I had borrowed from the boatswain of my galley. He always brought it with him from Sicily on these expeditions. I should have had the sense to throw it off and swim out to the galley. To do that was dangerous enough, even though I swam like a fish, but I was so distraught that I could not think of anything. I stood there, stupid, staring at six worthless Moors cutting the heads off all the men sitting in the boat and not one of them showing any fight.
After that, the Moors threw all the dead bodies into the sea and launched the boat. They then milled around killing all those they found swimming. They had no interest in taking prisoners. During all this, we were bombarded by cannon and musket fire from the town.
In the galleys, the sailors were detailed to take the longboats to the beach and pick up as many of our men as possible. But they dared not go inshore, as the storm was blowing hard and they were frightened of being grounded on the beach and being slaughtered.
It happened that one of the longboats had for its master the owner of the mail coat I was wearing. He recognized me by my purple cap edged with gold and my purple jacket. "Strike out to sea," he shouted at me, "we’ll pick you up."
This I did without taking off any clothes. A complete lunacy! I swam a couple of strokes and, what with the burden I was trying to carry and the force of the storm, I started to sink.
The boatswain, not wanting to lose his chain mail, bore down on me, grabbed me by one arm, and hauled me aboard. I had about a gallon of seawater inside. There was a poor devil of a soldier, half-drowned, who was holding onto the longboat and dragging it with the waves toward the beach. The boatswain cut his wrist through to make him let go. He drowned immediately. It made me very sad to see such a thing happen, but there was nothing else to do if the longboat was to be saved.
As for myself, the boatswain took me aboard the galley, where, head down and feet in air, I was made to sick up all the seawater I had swallowed.
Meanwhile, Adelantado, seeing how badly things were going, went to board his own felucca. He had left this ship under the orders of a friend, an infantry officer. But when this captain had seen the disaster and felt the force of the storm, he fled.
The story goes that Adelantado shouted for him, crying his name and calling, "Comrade!" I will not say his name, because of the infamous thing he did, namely, deserting this noble lord.
Adelantado had tried to swim but quickly succumbed. A longboat from the flagship recognized him and dragged him aboard, but it was too late as he was already dead.
Adelantado was taken aboard the flagship of the Sicilian squadron. I saw him laid out on an old carpet in the poop, dressed as he was ashore, but with his face black and swollen. I thought then how little difference there was between being a grandee or a poor soldier. General as he was, Adelantado had not been able to save himself where lesser men had succeeded. Of all the Sicilian regiment, there were only seventy-two men left alive and we were eight hundred when we first set sail. The Maltese galleys suffered just as badly, though I never heard the number of their casualties.
I said that I had seen Adelantado aboard the flagship: this was how it came about. Aboard my galley, myself and six men were all that were left of the company; all the other officers were lost. So the ship’s captain sent me to visit the galleys to see if I could find any more of our company alive. I took the longboat. By then, God’s wrath had been appeased by so many deaths including that of Adelantado, and the sea was flat and as white as milk.
We had captured a country and lost it: All that, and with a storm thrown in, had happened in less than three hours.
I went aboard the flagship. There were no other soldiers there except the captain of the felucca. All the others had gone ashore and never returned. It was then that I saw General Adelantado as I described before in this story. I went back to my galley, which was then weighing anchor.
It was remarkable how in this short time the beach had become as peaceful as if this butchery had never happened. The Moors had killed almost every man they laid hands on. Some escaped by hiding in some big local-made jars – rather like Spanish wine jars – which were leaning against the landward postern gate of the town. But there were less than thirty men who escaped in that way.
The Moors took our colonel, a knight of the Order of Calatrava, Don Andrés de Silva by name, alive. They debated between themselves as to whom he belonged and finally, while he was still alive, cut him in half, so that both parties should have a share. When we heard what had happened, our hearts bled for him.
The Moors cut off all the heads from the dead and buried their bodies. They decked out everyone of those they had taken alive with a necklace of heads and a pike with a head impaled on it. And in this grotesque glory they made their triumphal entry into Tunis. So ended our disastrous adventure.
We sailed for Sicily and, on the way, the galleys of Malta parted company with us and made for Valetta.
We sailed into Palermo Harbor, with our masthead lanterns draped in mourning. With our awnings up, as it was August, we rowed out of time, looking a pathetic sight. The more dejected we looked, the more the boats came out to meet us asking after a husband or a son, or some for a friend. But we could only keep answering the truth, "They are dead. They are dead!"
The women wailed so much that even the galley slaves wept. During the night, the body of General Adelantado was taken ashore and carried in a great torchlight procession to a church, the name of which I have forgotten, where it stayed until it was taken to Spain. Proceedings were taken against the captain, who had abandoned the general by taking away his felucca. This captain’s brother, an important man in Palermo, seeing that his brother would be condemned to a sordid and shameful death, one night gave him poison. The captain was found dead and swollen like a wineskin the next morning. As I have already said, I will not tell you his name, as he was very well known.

My company was put back on a war footing, and I was sent to live in Monreal, some four miles from Palermo. My host was a baker, and he kindly lent me, for my daily ride into Palermo on duty, his fat ambling old mare.
At that time I was a handsome and colorful young man, and many people were jealous of me. However, on the road that I traveled on every day to Palermo, there lived a Spanish woman from Madrid. She had come to Sicily with her husband, who had been a judge; at the time I met her, she was a widow. She was beautiful and by no means poor. Every time I passed her house, I saw her at the window and I concluded that she had ideas about me, so I found out who she was and sent her a note.
"May I serve your grace in any way?" the message said. "I, too, am from Madrid and feel it my duty, rather than anyone else’s, to assist a lady from my own city."
She sent me her thanks and invited me to visit her. I accepted her invitation, took her a present of fruit – Monreal fruit being the best in Sicily – and showered her with compliments.
One thing led to another, and we talked lightly of love and marriage. For her part, being married to a judge, and a learned one, was a very different thing from being wed to a soldier with four lace collars and twelve escudos’ pay. However, when she started talking seriously of marriage, I said to her, "Señora, I could not keep up a carriage for you, nor as many servants as you now have, though you are worthy of many more."
"All that doesn’t matter," she replied, "I shall be quite content with a litter, two maidservants and two menservants."
That being the case, we asked the archbishop for permission to marry secretly at a hermitage. He gave it us, although this annoyed the duke of Feria when he heard. He had been told by the duke of Arcos that my wife would have made a most suitable wife for himself.
We were happily married for eighteen months, and we loved each other very dearly. How I respected that woman! Often, even out of doors, I would not wear my hat in her presence.
And this is how it all ended. I had a friend, whom I would have trusted with my own life, who came and went in my house as freely as I did. Despite this friendship, he set his eyes on my beloved wife. Though I noticed his manner had changed, I did not dream that he was interested in my beloved. Then one day a little page boy of mine came to me and said, "Señor, do ladies in Spain kiss their husband’s relatives?"
"Why do you ask that?" I asked.
"Because your cousin has kissed madam, and madam has shown him her garters."
"Of course it is a custom in Spain." I replied, "otherwise my cousin would not have done such a thing. However, don’t tell a soul and if you see it happen again, tell me, and I will speak to them about it."
The boy came and told me of a second time that it happened. I could get no sleep for worrying about it, but I did not show it on my face until one morning, as fate would have it, I found them in each other’s arms.
They died.
Let us hope that at that sad moment they were repentant and that God will have them in his heaven.
There were many other things that I could tell you about all this, but even this much is an unpleasant memory for me. I will not even mention their names.
However, I took none of her money, not a penny. It was all given to the son she had had by her first marriage.
And so with my papers of service in my bag, I went my way.

CHAPTER NINE

I went to Spain to see about a promotion. The year was 1608. It was suggested to me by the Ministry of War that I should accept the rank of captain and the post of sergeant major of Sardinia, which had then fallen vacant. This post was given me after the Council of War had approved it, but Don Roderigo Calderón – God rest his soul – wishing to get me out of the way and to get the post for the brother of one of his men-at-arms had the following put on my commission: "Only with the approval of the governor of the captain general of Sardinia."
A notice like that was an unheard-of thing to find on a writ. I told the secretary, Francisco Gasol, so. He just shrugged his shoulders. I then took a mule and set out for the Escurial to speak to our king, Don Philip III, about it. He told me to go to see Don Roderigo Calderón, who was at the time also at the Escurial.
"But, sir," I replied, "it was Roderigo who wrote this on my papers."
This irritated him, and he dismissed me saying, "All right, all right: I shall have this looked into immediately."
I went back to speak to Don Roderigo, but he already knew what had passed between the king and myself and said, "What makes you think that it was me who added those words to your papers? Get along home."
I left, but an hour later two men came up to me and said, "Would your grace be so kind as to come with us?"
It seemed to me as though I was to be taken to some court of law, though neither of the men had any badge or sign of office. But after what had happened with both the king and Roderigo, I concluded that there was going to be some sort of justice dispensed and I was right. The men led me off between them, talking and asking me questions about what I was petitioning from the king.
In this way, we arrived at the village below the Escurial. I started to think that they were taking me to the jail, which was on that road, but no, we passed it by.
Once we were about two musket shots out of the village, the man on my right put his hand under his cloak but I was watching him. Without allowing him a moment’s advantage, I drew my sword and struck him on the head with the flat so hard that he fell to the ground. I then saw a court lawyer’s briefcase in his hand, which had been hidden by his cloak. If it had not been for that, I should have run him through. The other man, who turned out to be a police officer, drew his sword, too. I dodged his thrust and drew a line on the ground with the point of my sword saying, "If you cross that line I’ll cut you to pieces."
The police officer then set about staunching the blood that was flowing from the other man’s head. This done, they informed me that I must never again enter the Escurial without the king’s permission. If I did, I did so at the risk of my neck.
"And what about my mule at the inn?" I asked. "Can I go and get that?"
"No," they said, "we shall send it to you."
Quickly, they bandaged the man’s wound, making him look presentable, and hurried back to make their report.
I heard that the king laughed a great deal over the affair at dinner that night.
A peasant brought me my mule, and I rode off toward Madrid. But on the journey I came to accounts with my conscience and made a determined resolution. This resolution was that I would serve God in the desert, as a hermit, and that I should quit the court and the palace forever.

I entered Madrid with my determination unshaken and went to my lodgings, where I went ahead with the preparations for my last journey. I intended to go to Moncayo and to build a hermitage on that mountain and to finish my days there.
I bought the things a hermit needs, such as a hair shirt, a whip of chains, and other scourges, some coarse cloth to make a habit, a sundial, plenty of penitential books, a skull, some seeds, and a little hoe.
I packed the lot up in a big bag and took for my journey two mules and a mule boy. I left without telling anyone where I was going. I dismissed my servant, and my mother blessed me. She thought that I was going to take up the post of sergeant major in Sardinia, as did many other people who saw me pass by the church of San Felipe and take the road for Alcalá de Henares and Saragossa.
At the Arcos gate, there was a customs search. When they asked me to open my bag, I said, "I beg of you not to open it. There is nothing in it which is dutiable. In any case, what can you expect a soldier, who has just come from the court, to have?"
But they insisted. They opened it and took out all my hermit’s equipment and were almost dumbfounded.
"Señor, where are you going with these things?" they asked.
"I am going to serve another king, for I am weary of this world," I said.
When they saw the sort of things that I was taking they were very sorry for me, and my mule boy could not control his tears and cried like a baby.
The mule boy and I passed on from there, talking of my retreat. At Calatayud, there lived some knights of Malta who were friends of mine. I called on them to ask for letters of introduction to offer to the bishop of Tarazona, as Moncayo was in his diocese.
These knights tried to dissuade me from taking up so hard a profession. They knew my past and what sort of a man I was. But when they found that they could not make me change my mind, they immediately gave me all the letters that I needed. But at the same time they also wrote to the bishop beseeching him to use all his powers to make me turn back. This bishop was a religious of the Order of St. Jerome, and he had been King Philip II’s confessor.
When I got to Tarazona, I settled myself in an inn. I then gave my mule boy leave to return home with his mules, but the boy had grown so fond of me that he was loath to leave.
After two days, I went to see the bishop and to submit my letters of introduction. He had me stay to dinner and afterwards preached me a little sermon, pointing out the thousand difficulties and inconveniences to which I was in danger of exposing myself and the particular problems such a life held for a young man. But he could not shake my resolve.
I stayed with him for a week and was entertained well in his house. I had sermons all day and every day, until he saw that he had no hope of altering my course. Finally, he gave me a letter to the vicar of Agreda, which was a town in the foothills of Moncayo. I made my way there and presented my letter to the vicar. He marveled at my determination and told me that I could start being a hermit as soon as I liked.
The sheriff of Agreda was an old friend of mine from Madrid.
He asked me to come and stay with him and, for a little while, turned my thoughts to other things.
However when my intentions were known by the whole town and it was seen that I had the sheriff as my advisor (he had the reputation of being a man of the world), I had everybody’s support. When they saw that I really was going through with my plans, they helped me build my hermitage.
I sited it at a spot some two miles from the town, on the slope of the mountain. I furnished it with a statue of Our Lady of Grace and, for the rest, only the barest necessities. I made my general confession at the Franciscan monastery of San Diego, which was just outside the town on the read to my hermitage. The parish priest came to bless my hermitage on the day I first put on my habit. He said a mass there, and my friend, the sheriff, and many of the gentlemen of the town were there.
When the mass was over, they all went back to the town, leaving me on my own. I then set about organizing my life and preparing a timetable of the various occupations that would be good for my. soul.
My hermit’s dress was the habit of the Franciscan brothers, and I wore no shoes or stockings. I used to come every morning to hear mass at the monastery, and the monks always tried to make me join them. But I did not want to.
Every Saturday, I would go into the town to beg for alms. I would never accept money. I only begged for oil, bread, and garlic, which were the foods upon which I lived. I used to eat three times a week a soup of garlic, oil, and bread, all cooked up together. For the rest of the time, I lived on bread and water and such herbs as I picked up on the mountains.
I went to confession and received the sacrament every Sunday. I took for my name as a religious Brother Alonso of the Mother of God. On certain days, the monks made me eat with them to encourage me to join their order. When, however, they at last realized that I would never become a Franciscan, they put pressure on me to leave off wearing the Franciscan habit.
The outcome of this was that I had to leave it off – a thing which I did not want to do. I then took the habit of the Victorine Order. And if there had been any Victorines in that part of the country, I really think that I would have had the same trouble. It was just a case of monks wanting a hermit to join their order.
I led this life for nearly seven months and no one heard ill spoken of me. I was as happy as if life were one long Christmas Day. And I promise you that if I had not been dragged away from there and if I had been allowed to stay there until today, I would have been working miracles.

But let us go back to the time that I was at Hornachos. Five years had passed since 1603 when I took to my hermitage and retired from the world in 1608.
There was a rumor in Spain that there was going to be a rising of the Moriscos. Don Gregorio López Madera, magistrate of Casa y Corte, went to Hornachos to hold an inquiry into.a rebellion that some Moriscos were accused of plotting. At Hornachos, he hanged six Moriscos. I do not know for what reason. Let it suffice that he hanged six Moriscos. But I do know well that some peasants from Guarena came to Hornachos to sell their "whatever-peasants-sell" and saw these Moriscos strung up. "So there was something to it when those soldiers," the peasants said, "passed through here a few years ago saying that these heathen had a cellarful of arms."
The magistrate had asked the peasants if they remembered who the commander of the company was, but they did not know. He then sent a man into Hornachos and into all the surrounding villages that had had soldiers billeted in them, to find out all he could. This was an easy assignment, as when troops were billeted the captain had to issue a signed proclamation.
My captain’s name was soon found out. He was known to be in Naples at that time. Then someone volunteered this information, "There was a lieutenant, and it was his fault. He found the cache and, instead of distributing the arms, went away without telling a soul."
The magistrate then set about finding who this lieutenant was. No one in Hornachos knew, so he sent a letter to the court asking who was the lieutenant to Captain Don Pedro Xaraba del Castillo in 1603. It did not take them long to discover that it was me.
The magistrate tracked me down. He learned that I had not taken up the post in Sardinia and that I had become a hermit at Moncayo because I had written to my mother and to my friends in the secretary of state’s office. (The secretary of state was then Don Andrés de Prada, the elder, and a man who had been a good friend to me.)
A royal warrant was dispatched ordering my arrest. The law suspected that no one except me knew precisely where these arms were and also thought it odd that I should have refused the post in Sardinia at a time when the Moriscos were hunting for arms. What was worse my retirement as a hermit to Moncayo was suspect, too, because Moncayo was one of the most easily defensible places in Spain and was in communication with Aragon and Castille, bordering both. They did not know my reasons for withdrawing from the world and could only conclude that I was king of the Moors.
Señor Llerena, a court police officer, arrived with a warrant at Agreda. He secretly visited my friend, the sheriff of Agreda, and they collected a posse of men and set off for my hermitage.
As the road to my hermitage was scarcely a royal carriageway – it was really no road at all – I was surprised to see such a crowd of armed men. I assumed that they were a band of recruits on their way to Aragon. But when they took the path to my hermitage, I did not know what to think. As they closed in on me, they spread out in military formation.
They came toward me. I waited patiently, a rosary in one hand, a staff in the other. They seized me, quickly strapping my hands behind my back and clamping my legs in irons. They then seated me on a donkey, tied me down, and took the road back to the town. During the journey, I heard someone say, "That fellow is the king of the Moriscos. It’s no wonder he was living so piously up on a mountain!"
There were other such stupid remarks. We arrived at a place where everybody had come out to have a good look at me. Some were sorry for me, but others jeered.
They put me in the prison for the night under a strong guard, and I spent the night examining my conscience and recommending my life to God.
Why had I been seized, and with such great precautions? And why the royal warrant? I could not make out what it was all about, though I made a hundred guesses.
The next day, I asked for my friend the sheriff to visit me. I wanted him to tell me if he knew why I had been put in prison. He told me that it was, so he thought, something to do with the Moriscos.
Suddenly, I remembered Hornachos, and I concluded that it must be about the arms I had found there. I said to him, "If it is about the arms I found at Hornachos, why on earth have they arrested me with such tactics and with such great numbers? If they had asked me about it at the time, I would gladly have told them everything I knew."
This astonished the sheriff, and he sent for Llerena and repeated to him what I had just said. Llerene jumped for joy and ordered that the arm and leg irons be taken off straightaway. Those irons were an invention of the devil.
They put a prison meal in front of me, but as I was only used to herbs when I ate it my stomach swelled so much that they thought that I was poisoned and was going to die. They sent for a doctor, who carefully examined me and found out what was wrong. He explained that I should eat light food for some time. We went off to Madrid, and I was treated well enough on the road, but I had to wear the irons and had twelve musketeers to guard me.
When we got to Madrid, I walked to the house of the magistrate, Madera, who had just returned from Hornachos. His house was on the Street of the Fountains. When I got there, he had my irons taken off and led me into a room where we could be alone together. He asked me amiably why I had become a hermit. I told him, just as I have explained to you. Then he went on and asked me if I had ever been at Hornachos. I replied, "Sir, if you are really asking me about the arms I found in a corn cellar while passing through there some five years ago with my company, don’t worry your head about it. I’ll tell you everything that happened."
He stood up and threw his arms around my neck, saying that I was more an angel than a man and that God must have preserved me to lay bare the wickedness and conspiracies of the Moriscos. I then set about telling him everything concerning the affair. Afterward, he had me taken to the house of another court police official, a Señor Alonso Ronquillo; this time I had a guard of six men but no irons.
Orders were given for me to be looked after well and for a doctor to be present at my lunch and dinner. This doctor was very strict. I could not eat or drink what I liked, but only the things that he liked. By what finally reached my stomach, I concluded that a poor man gets a better meal than a rich one.
Four days passed, and I was not allowed to write or even send a message to any of my friends, not even to my mother. Then the same magistrate visited me with a secretary of the criminal court, a Juan de Pina. He put me through a detailed questioning and prepared a statement for me to sign. He would not allow me to use my name of Brother Alonso of the Mother of God, but insisted on that of Alonso de Contreras, sergeant major of Sardinia.
A fortnight later, I was able to write to my mother and to my friends. And, although I was still under surveillance, at least I no longer had a doctor to dine with me.
At midnight one night, Ronquillo came into my room. He was dressed in traveling clothes and with pistols at his hips. With him were six men, similarly fitted out.
"Señor sergeant major," he said, "please get dressed; we have business to do."
When I saw all this traveling gear, I remarked, "But, Señor, what is happening?"
"Dress yourself," he repeated, "we have things to do." Dressing was, for me, no great trial. I had only to throw a habit over my shoulders, and, when that was done, I said, "Your grace, please tell me where we are going."
"We are going," he replied, "where the court has ordered us to go."
"Would your grace send me to San Ginés then," I asked, "to find a priest to confess to? I shall not leave without at least that." He turned to me and said. "Come along, it’s late, and you’ll have no need of confession tonight."
Even with that, I still feared that he was going to take me out of the town and string me up.

CHAPTER TEN

However, in the end, they took me along to San Ginés, which was only three doors away, and the vicar heard my confession. I wish to God that I were today, while I am writing this, even one-quarter as well-prepared to face the Judgment as I was in those days.
I begged and pleaded with my confessor to let me go the next day to find both Secretary Prada and my mother and tell them all that I had told him. I also wanted them to go on defending my name and prevent the words "traitor to the king" ever being linked to it. After that, the vicar went his way and I had another leg iron clapped on.
I was taken back to the house where I had been kept. Before setting off, I was put on a mule and strapped tightly down with my free leg bound under its belly. We crossed the Mayor Square and then went down the Toledo Road, past the Puerto Cerrada, and then up the road where all men condemned to be hanged went. It was, for this reason, called calle de los Ajusticiados [6]. Admittedly, it was also the road which led to the Segovia Gate, and to Hornachos. It was to Hornachos that I was being taken, but I did not then know it. The police officer could have told me and spared all my fears of hanging. We followed this road for all that remained of that night. Each silhouette of a tree I thought was a gibbet.
At dawn we were at Móstoles, but we did not stop there. We went on as far as Casarubios before breakfasting and feeding our mules. I, for one, had no appetite.
I again asked the police officer why he would not tell me where we were going and if he could release me from the agony in which I had spent the night.
"We are going," he said, "to a place, the name of which I cannot tell you till we get there. Those are my orders from the council."
And so I was left in suspense.
We continued our journey until we came in sight of Hornachos, and then the officer said to me, "That’s where you’re going. And tonight the law goes into action. We shall not go into the town until midnight."
That gave me plenty more to think about while we were waiting, hidden in a garden, for that hour which I believed to be my last. But I was not perturbed. When my time comes, may it please God to find me as well prepared and I shall die content.
At the outskirts of the village, the police officer freed me of my irons and cords and said to me, "Would you please show us the house where you found the muskets?"
"Señor," I replied, "I do not know the village. I only spent one afternoon and one night there and when the soldier took me to this house it was dark and in any case it all happened five years ago. But still, put me on the upper road by the fountain and I will try, with the help of God, to find it."
He took me there, and I said, pointing out two houses. "It is either this one, or that one."
"Good," he said. "Now let us go to the inn."
He gave me dinner, but, curse him, I could only eat a little under the circumstances.
The next day, the police officer worked out a scheme where I could go into the two houses I had pointed out to him. I had to find out which was the one with the arms cellar. This is how it was done.
I first had to go into several other homes and say that I was sent by the bishop of Badajoz to visit the houses to see whether they were well supplied with crucifixes and religious pictures. Since I was dressed in a hermit’s habit, they believed me. When news of what I was doing got around, Hornachos was flooded with peddlers, who grew rich overnight selling religious prints. There was not a door left in Hornachos without two or three crucifixes on it. So many were there that it reminded me of a cemetery on some bloody battleground.
Eventually, I went into the right house and discovered the corn cellar. But it was quite different from the way I had described it in my statements. It used to be as white as a dove and about thirty feet long by twenty feet wide.
I was completely at a loss. I leaned against the wall and started scratching it like some prisoner under a life sentence. Then, by the grace of God, a piece of mud fell down and underneath it was quite white. When I saw this, I scraped the mud off the other walls and found three white and one black. I said to Ronquillo, "Señor, please have a man sent down here to knock down this mud wall."
This was done, and the corn cellar was just as I had described it. But it had been cut in half by a wall, and the walls of the first room had been covered with mud.
The owner of the house was arrested. He said that he had bought the house two years before from another Morisco, whose name I do not remember. We wanted to arrest that man, too, but when he heard that part of the house had been pulled down he got on his mare and fled to Portugal. It was only at great cost that he was eventually brought back. Meanwhile, his goods were sequestered and the police officer and guards helped themselves.
After all that, I was no longer kept under strict guard and the police officer, being delighted with the outcome, sent off news of all the things I have described to you to the court.
As for myself, I was ill; in fact, on the verge of death. But I was looked after with so much care and filled with so many medicines that I became stronger. I was then called for by the court, but, as I was still convalescing, a doctor was sent to look after me on the journey. At every stopping place on the road to Madrid, a sheriff or magistrate came out to meet me and entertained me until it was time to leave. I was honored and slept in the houses of the rich, and I never once set foot inside a jail for the whole journey. We got to Madrid, and I was led to the same house I had been in before. My mother came to see me and burst into floods of tears. I was, however, by then feeling much better and was taken to the president of Castille’s house. He was a man by the name of Don Pedro Manso and, at his house, both the Royal Council and the Council of War were awaiting me. Don Diego de Ibarra and the count of Salazar were sitting in the Council of War, but I did not know any of the others except the treasurer, Don Melchor de Molina.
The commissariat captain to whom I had reported the arms find in Hornachos was brought into the court, and he denied that he had ever been to Hornachos. My statement was then read aloud, and I was asked if I still wished to stand by it. To that I replied, "I know the captain very well and what is more, everything in my statement is quite true. Why," I added, "does he deny a thing which is so obviously true?"
But he denied it fast enough. I replied, "Sir, what I have said is true. But if I must suffer before you find out the truth for yourselves, I am quite prepared."
With that, the court was adjourned, and I was taken back to my usual prison and the commissariat captain to the court jail.
A night or two later, when I had gone to bed, there was a knock at my door and I was told to get dressed. I was carried in a litter to the Street of the Fountains (where I had been before) and found myself in a room beautifully furnished with heavy hangings. There I saw a table on which there was a crucifix, with a candle on each side of it, and an ink pot, powder, and paper.
I then looked up and saw a rack. Next to the rack, I saw the magistrate with his clerk and an executioner. The magistrate exhorted me to tell the truth and, even though it would grieve his soul, he told me he would have to put me to the question. He told me that the commissariat captain still denied that I had told him about the arms. Because of this, they decided to ask me again. The magistrate then gave the order to go ahead. The clerk read out some formal statement, which I do not remember, and the executioner stripped me naked. He then laid me down on the rack and fixed the cords onto my arms and legs.
They started to put me in that measure of discomfort which would encourage me to say whom I had told about the arms. I still said, "Everything is true in my statement."
The magistrate replied, "I know that you and your captain were given four thousand ducats to keep your mouths shut."
"Nonsense," I said. "My captain knew no more about the affair than the Grand Turk himself. I’ve told you the truth once." After that, I did not say another word all the time except, "It’s a fine thing to torture a man for telling the truth. I needn’t have told you any of this in the first place. If you want me to unsay it, I unsay it."
"Tighter, and give it another turn," was the magistrate’s only reply.
But this second turn did not seem to hurt me much. Then he gave the order to release me. As I was put in my litter, the magistrate embraced me, and I was taken back to my house, where I was looked after and entertained like a king.

I treated myself very delicately for more than ten days in bed, and then I got up. All this while, the commissariat captain was languishing in the court jail, but on his side he had the old duke of Frias, Condestable of Castille, the count of the Rhine, and an old man. He also had the thirty thousand ducats that he was said to possess.
I was soon released on the understanding that I would not leave Madrid without permission. I was not allowed to wear my hermit’s habit anymore but was given in its stead an excellent velvet suit cut in the military style. I was also given four gold escudos a day for my board and lodging, which Secretary Pina paid me regularly every fourth day. This allowance was paid out of the property sequestered from the Moriscos.
I went out to the church of San Felipe, dressed as I have already described, and everyone was openmouthed with astonishment at seeing me. They cheered when they realized I was free.
I had to report every evening to the police officer who had been my jailer. One evening, his wife said to me, "Señor, the commissariat captain is gathering dozens of witnesses to prove that he has never been to Hornachos and, as you have eaten at our table, I advise you as a good friend to escape while you can and not risk prison again. And as the old saying goes, ’It is better to hide in the woods than to trust the prayers of good men.""
Well, I believed she was doing her best for me and, by God, I wasted no time following her advice. But it turned out that the commissariat captain had bribed her, for he was a rich man as I have told you, and, in this way, she completed his campaign against me.
I had saved a little money and I begged two days’ pay off Secretary Pina, saying that I was very hard up. I then sold my black velvet suit and bought in the calle de las Postas a letter carrier’s suit, cloak, leggings, and a poor man’s sword.
That night, at sundown, with a mailbag on my back and a rough cap on my head, I left Madrid and struck out for Alicante. It was January and anyone who has walked that road in the winter will feel sorry for me.
At dawn, I crossed by the Bayona ferry and went on through La Mancha. At Albicete, I turned off toward Alicante. In all, the journey took four days.
I already knew that the regiments of Italy plus the Armada regiment were stationed near Valencia, so I set about finding out exactly where they were. I knew that many men from my Hornachos company had transferred to the Armada regiment at Lisbon, when the company was disbanded.
I learned that the regiment was in the Cortes Mountains. So off I went, as I have already told you, dressed as a letter carrier. Every day, I searched every face in the companies as they went on guard duty and among them I found fifteen of my old comrades, of which two were lieutenants on the active list.
I told my woes to these lieutenants, and they sympathized with me and took me to their inn. I then went on to tell them that the commissariat captain was saying he had never been to Hornachos.
"He’s lying," they said. "We can remember the inn he had his breakfast in and even what he ate that morning."
I spoke with several of the soldiers and they said what they had to say about it, and I prepared an affidavit for the regimental attorney to verify and seal. I explained to him that it was a matter of my coming into some property and I had to prove that the captain had been in Hornachos at a certain time. I put my request to the attorney in the proper manner and put the witnesses at his disposal. The outcome of it was that I got a statement sworn by five witnesses that the captain had been in Hornachos at the same time as my company. I then packed it away in my bag and thought about returning to Madrid. But I decided to stay on for two reasons. One, it was rumored that the Moriscos who were living in the mountains were going to lose their civil rights and that at any moment we were going to pillage their lands. And, two, the weather was bitterly cold.
My disappearance from Madrid was noticed after two days. The authorities searched everywhere for me and finally had my name shouted all over Madrid by the town crier. Because I did not reply and no one knew where I was (they had found a few clues which made them think I had gone towards Valencia), the commissariat captain asked to be released, saying, "Contreras told a pack of lies, and now he’s off to join the Morisco rebellions."
The rascal, having plenty of money and two great lords to support his cause, was released without difficulty. All the same, the magistrate did not believe that I had gone to join the Moriscos and had a secret inquiry made into my ancestry. He traced me back as far as four generations to see if there was any Jewish or Moorish blood in my veins.
I tell you this because, some time later, Secretary Pina said to me, "If you had the money it cost us to research and inquire into your birth, your parents’ birth, and your paternal and maternal ancestors, you could live like a lord for quite a while. Anyhow, it was lucky for you that we found nothing suspicious in your lineage, because if we had you would have been hanged without a doubt."
All the same, the captain was let out of jail and everyone condemned the Moriscos, saying that they ought to be thrown out of Spain. But as for me, they still carried on their search.
A few days later, during a little raid on the Moriscos, a high-spirited stallion mule fell into my hands. I broke it in and rode off to Albacete, but first I got a letter from the sergeant major of the regiment stating that I was not on active duty in that regiment and that the mule I was riding, of such and such description, was looted from the Moriscos. Without question, it was mine to own or dispose of. At Albacete, I sold it for thirty-six ducats, though it was worth a good hundred.
I next went on foot to Madrid. At Vallecas, three miles from Madrid, I wrote a petition and addressed it to the king, by courtesy of Secretary Don Andrés Prada.
That night at dusk, with my bag on my back, I entered Madrid. I went straight to the house of the count of Salazar and asked to see his secretary. When he recognized me, he said, "For God’s sake, clear out of the town. If you are caught you will be hanged tomorrow!"
I said, "No," but he would not listen to any of my arguments. He just kept telling me to get out of town. So I soon gave up and called a page boy, instructing him to tell the count that a courier had arrived from the army in Valencia.
The count had me come in immediately. When he recognized me, he became apprehensive and looked from one side of the room to the other as though he were hoping to find some help if it were needed.
"Señor," I said to him, "I am Lieutenant Contreras, and I have come like this (I had mud up to my knees) to defend my reputation and to put before your lordship some new evidence. I can prove that the commissariat captain was at Hornachos at the time I said he was. I left Madrid without authority only so that I could find some soldiers of my company who could bear witness in my favor. I now remain at your lordship’s disposal."
"By my order of knighthood," he said, "I have always held a good opinion of you, Contreras. Now go to Melchor de Molina, the treasurer, and tell him all you’ve told me and see me again tomorrow."
I went to de Molina’s house, but I was told that he was asleep, so I went off to see a woman I knew. I knocked at her door and a maidservant was sent to open it. When she saw me, she was terrified and shrieked, "Oh, my God, it’s the lieutenant!"
Filthy as I was, and scarcely recognizable, I was let into the house, where the woman I had come to see nearly became hysterical.
"What is all the fuss about?" I asked.
"You are mad to come to Madrid," the woman said. "They will catch you and hang you and that is one good reason for the fuss. God’s grief, go to a church and take asylum there!"
"Now, now, Isabelilla," I said calmly, "you send along to the English ambassador’s kitchen and get me a meat paté and some wine as I am dying of hunger. If I am going to be hanged, I might as well die with a full belly."
She sent her maidservant, who came back in the twinkling of an eye with the paté and the wine.
"Now sit down and have some dinner, Isabelilla," I said.
She said she had already eaten, so I set about my meal. Afterward, I washed my feet in a little wine and went to bed. I was very tired and slept well. I was up early the next morning, but not as early as the treasurer, who had already left his house when I got there. I was told that he had gone to mass at the Jesuit church. I went there and waited until he came out, and then went up to him and explained that I had a sworn statement. The count had told me to give it to him and that he and the count would be meeting that morning at the palace.
He took the statement and told me how sorry he was to see me in such a plight. He then told me to wait for him in his house. I did as he ordered.
The servant of the woman with whom I had eaten the night before was a good friend of the bailiff. She had warned him first thing in the morning that I was back and that I was going to see the treasurer.
The bailiff warned his master who was a court police officer called Artiaga, and the two of them plus other bailiffs gathered to catch me as I left the treasurer’s house. I waited for the treasurer until nearly noon. As soon as he had got down from his carriage, he saw me and said, "Come with me, his majesty wants to do you an honor."
As he said this, he grasped my hand, and those who were with him were astonished to see him do such a thing to a man who looked like an unhorsed letter-carrier – or worse. We went inside to his study and sat down. He said many flattering things about my courage and then remarked, "Please go now and see the count; we have all put our heads together at the palace and we have come to a decision concerning you which the count will inform you of."
As I was leaving the house, the police officer and the bailiffs attacked me, shouting, "In the name of the king, surrender!" I gripped the hilt of my sword, drew it and kept them all at bay. I thought that the treasurer had laid a trap for me, so I let no one come near me at all. Then the treasurer was informed of what was happening in front of his house and he came out, shouting, "You rogues and ruffians, what are you doing? Don’t you know who this man is dressed as a courier? Isn’t it enough for you that he comes as a free man out of my house? If I have any more of this insult, I’ll have you all thrown into the galleys!"
The police officer stood there stupefied by what had happened. I put away my cheap sword and went off to the count’s house with more than a hundred people, some in front of me leading the way. and others following in procession. All this crowd waited with me until the count arrived and then they went their way.
"Come up to my study, lieutenant," the count said. Next, we went upstairs and he said, "You have behaved yourself as a man of great honor. Everything has been thought over now: just tell us where you would like to have a company of infantry and you will be given the title of captain."
I kissed his hand for the honor, and said, "Señor, if this is the way things are to be, I choose Flanders."
He gave me a letter for Secretary Prada, and three hundred reales in pieces of two as well. I went straight away to see the secretary and gave him the letter. He gave me another letter addressed to the king, who was then at the Prado.
I went to the Prado and handed my letter to the king’s secretary, who told me to come back to his office at nightfall. I went there as I was told, and he gave me a letter for Secretary Prada and a thousand reales in pieces of four. I took both the letter and the money with me back to Madrid and delivered the letter to Prada. Enclosed in the letter was my captaincy for Flanders, with an increase of twelve escudos in my pay and a letter to the archduke from the king ordering him to give me a company of infantry.
I dressed myself as a soldier again and again asked my mother to give me her blessing. I left her some of the money I had been given and took the road for Agreda, where I had been a hermit.
As for the commissariat captain, he had both money and good guardian angels. Laws had by then been passed to banish the Moriscos from Spain, so the charge against him became less serious. He was at that time on parole but was eventually banished from the court; however, he could not have been banished for long, as I met the rogue in Madrid scarcely more than four years later.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I left Madrid and took the road to Agreda. In a very few days, I arrived. When the people of the town knew that I was staying at a local inn, and much more importantly when they heard that I’ had been honored by the king and given a new commission, they were all delighted to see me.
I stayed with them five days and then went on to the port of San Sebastian. I embarked there on a ship from Dunkirk and reached Flanders in a week. I went on to Brussels and presented my letters to the archduke. He welcomed me very generously and agreed to put me on his payroll. I had his promise that I should have a company as soon as possible. While I was waiting for a company, I enrolled as a lieutenant in Captain Andrés de Prada’s company. (He was a relative of the secretary of state.) The regiment, whose colonel was Don Juan de Menéses, was at the time on garrison duty at Cambrai.
For two whole years, I stayed there, and not once did we go campaigning. I did not get my company either. We had to await the outcome of King Henry IV of France’s passion for the duchess of Condé; only he knew whether he would marry her and there would be no war. Neither did we know what his new policy would be.
The duchess of Condé at that time had already fled for safety to the infanta’s court at Brussels, along with her husband the duke of Condé. The duke should have inherited the crown of France, had not Henry IV taken it from him.
Here is an opportunity to tell a tale about Henry IV. It was a remarkable thing, and I swore to the truth of the story at the time to the magistrates at Cambrai.

As you know, in 1610 Henry had made a pact with Germany and Italy against the Hapsburgs and in particular with an eye to taking Flanders. His ex-queen, Margaret de Valois, was not then in favor, and Henry went one day to St. Denis, where he kept her, to get an oath of allegiance. On that day, he returned to Paris; it was only a distance of six miles. But once in the city, going down a narrow street, where his carriage could not properly be protected by his bodyguard, a man rushed out and attacked him with a butcher’s knife. The king cried, "Don’t kill me," and straightaway the assassin made a second thrust. So died the bravest king there had been for two hundred years.
The man was captured and slowly tortured until he died. Every day they gave him some new and hellish treatment, but the most he ever said in answer to the agony was, "My God of Paradise."
Whenever he was asked who had urged him to kill the king, he replied, "No one. I did it so that Christians should not suffer. Twice before I have come from my native town to do this, but I had no opportunity; on both occasions I spent all I had and returned home."
This man was called François Ravaillac, a native of Angouleme in Brittany; he was a schoolmaster. The murder took place at four o’clock in the afternoon on 14 May 1610. I was then at Cambrai, which was quite near, and I confirmed it.
Now I will tell you about the remarkable thing that I saw while on garrison duty with my regiment at Cambrai.
We had just received orders to get ready to go on campaign – a thing we had prayed for as often as we had prayed for a place in heaven. That night when our company was on guard duty, I and another lieutenant, Juan Jul by name, a Majorcan, went to inspect the guards on the city wall. We went up on the ramparts, where there were several sentry posts, and when we got to the Péronne Gate we heard the sound of a courier’s bugle. We were very pleased, as we hoped it might be our marching orders.
When the courier hailed us, we asked, "Where do you come from?"
"From Spain," was his answer.
It was possible. He had come on the right road. Then we asked him, "Have you any letters for the governor?"
"No," he replied, "And don’t stop me now." "Well," we asked, "what is the news?"
"Tonight," he replied, "the king of France was twice stabbed and died."
The other lieutenant and I agreed that I, being the faster runner, should go and tell the governor. When I got to his house he was in bed, but I told him the news. He was very perturbed, as he knew what a dangerous political situation we were in.
After talking with the governor, I went back to the ramparts. Meeting up with the lieutenant, we continued on our rounds and passed on the news to all the guardrooms. Everyone was amazed at our story.
By the next day, word had gotten around, and the peasants came to Cambrai bringing all their possessions on carts to put them somewhere safe. They said, "Now the king is dead. There is nothing to hold his soldiery in check and they will come and loot our homes."
But for all that, the report of the king’s death turned out not to be true. And everyone laughed at my expense.
Then, nine days after that happened, a servant of Don Inigo de Cardenas, the Spanish ambassador in Paris, brought some news. He told us the earlier version of the king’s death, without variation on a single point. He added that the ambassador’s house had been put under the guard of two companies, just in case the people of Paris should take it into their heads that the ambassador had instigated the murder and kill him and all his household.
The coincidence was astounding.
We then went out campaigning until September. I asked the archduke to let me go to Malta, where I had heard that a chapter general was being held and where I hoped to gather the fruits of the work I had done for the Religion.
I got permission to leave, but because I had no money to buy horses, whether I went alone or with a servant, I decided to go as a pilgrim. I therefore dressed myself as a French pilgrim, because I spoke French well, hid a sword in the center of my staff, put my papers in a haversack, and set off.
I reached a town called Creil, which was between Amiens and Paris. The duke of Condé and his wife had gone back there now that there was no longer any danger from Henry IV. I asked the duke if he would be so kind as to give me a letter of recommendation to the grand master at Malta. He gave me one, and it was no longer nor broader than a finger. He also gave me three hundred reales . I soon went through Burgundy and reached Châlons. When I reached the town gate, it was closed, so I walked along the banks of the river which flowed beneath the city walls, looking for another entrance.
As I walked, my curiosity was aroused, and I got deeply absorbed studying the city’s fortifications. I was observed, and when I reached the next gate I was arrested. Here I had done nothing wrong at all. When they wanted to take my staff, I resisted them and they shouted, "This bougre is a Spanish spy!"
We battled over the staff so much that it came apart and they saw the sword. Then, they were sure beyond any question that I was a spy.
They dragged me off to the prison, and some thought they ought to put me on the rack. Others thought I should hang. Was any other proof needed, they said. I had been caught with a concealed sword.
I showed them my papers and my ticket of leave from the archduke, but that made no difference. Finally, a Spaniard took pity on me. This man had married and settled down in Châlons; in point of fact, he could not go back to Spanish lands as he had mutinied in Flanders and been declared a traitor. He came to me and said, "You must keep your wits about you, sir; these people want to hang you. Is there anything you would like me to do for you?"
I could not believe that he was not joking. But when I realized that both he and my captors were deadly serious, I almost went mad at the thought of so meaningless a death.
"Señor," I told him, "I have a letter of recommendation which the duke of Condé wrote for me to give to the grand master of Malta. As you can see, I am just a traveler and no spy."
"Give it to me," he said.
God’s body! It was so small I could hardly find it! However, when I did locate it, he took it off to the magistrates. I waited there as disconsolate as you may well imagine. An hour later, I heard a crowd of people in the prison square, and I felt sure that they were coming to feast their cruel spirits and torture me. I was even more sure when I heard a voice say, "Where is the Spaniard? Bring him here."
I went and there I found all the judges of the town. They said to me in French, "Come with us."
They took me off to an inn, and ordered the innkeeper, who was no more a heretic than Calvin, to wine, dine, and lodge me well. And so he did.
The next day, they sent a horse for myself and two cavalrymen to accompany me as far as Lyons. Everything went excellently, so well in fact that, as far as Lyons, my journey with good food all the way did not cost me a penny. At Lyons, I was handed over to the governor and he did the same for me. He paid my expenses at the inn and two more cavalrymen went as far as the borders of Savoy with me. That is to say, as far as Chambéry.
From there, I carried on to Genoa, where I picked up a boat bound for Naples. I found another ship to take me on to Palermo, where the duke of Ossuna was viceroy. I called to see him and pay my respects, and when he saw my papers he made me a present of a hundred ducats.
But despite that sign of favor, there were some who wanted to see the back of me. They told me that the viceroy had given orders to have me arrested on the charge of my old murders. It turned out not to have been true, but I did not wait to find out and I got aboard a ship bound for Malta where I was more welcome.

Immediately, I was sent on a scouting expedition; our fleet at the time was on its way to the Kerkennah Isles, which lay off Barbary. I made the trip and reported on everything I had seen and heard. In 1611, a chapter general was held and I was received into the priory of Castille as a brother servant-at-arms. I was known so well in Malta that I was not asked to furnish any documents of service or of my birth. There was not one vote cast against me out of the whole chapter of more than two hundred knights.
I did my year’s novitiate and at the end of it, they gave me the habit of the Order of St. John. Two knights then spoke against me, saying that I had committed two public homicides, but they were overruled by the grand master, and I took my vows.
During that year, I only had one quarrel; it was with a bragging Italian knight. It was all because I took the part of another knight who had done me a good turn. Anyhow, this Italian shot at me twice and missed.
I asked, consequently, for permission to go to Spain, and it was granted. I went as far as Carthagena in one of the galleys of the Religion in the company of the knight whose side I had taken in the quarrel I told you about. He paid my expenses all the way. This knight came with me as far as Madrid, but there would not be enough paper in the whole of Genoa to tell you all the adventures that happened to us on the way.
At Madrid, the knight left me. I entered the city in my new habit of the order, and everyone congratulated me – some out of fondness for me, and others enviously.
I asked the Council of War for an infantry company, but they sent me to serve with the royal fleet. I stayed with the fleet a while, taking a lively part in all that happened, and then returned to Madrid.
About this time, I picked myself a married woman as a lover. All went well for several days, until another married woman I knew started slanderous gossip against me out of jealousy. That made me do a disgusting thing: I admit it as such, although I performed it.
I went to the house of the woman who was spreading rumors about me, fully intending to slash her face in front of her husband. I drew my dagger to do so and, when she realized what I was going to do, she buried her head in her skirts between her knees. In annoyance that she had foiled me, I became angry and tossed her skirts over her head. Her being bent down lent itself admirably to my deed, and I took two slashes at her bottom as though I were cutting a melon.
Her husband found his sword and made after me. But he did not succeed in catching me, so he went to the sergeant at arms and laid a charge against me. There were always plenty of them with no work to do and they went out to find me. I took up a strong defensive position at the door of a house, and let no one pass through unless he was willing to let my sword pass through him first. The longer I held firm, the greater the crowd of city police and court police became, until finally one of the court magistrates, Don Farinas, was called. He approached me with a crowd of police to support him and, with his hat in hand, said to me politely, "I beg your grace to put your sword back in its scabbard."
To which I replied, "Your grace is so courteous that if I lose my head for doing so, I will put my sword away."
I did so and he said, "Swear to me on this cross that you will not escape and that you will come with me."
"A man," I replied, "who has done just as he is asked has no need to swear promises. I will go wherever you please."
Off we went side by side to the court prison and when we got there he said, "Your grace may stay here until I have spoken with his highness the prince, grand prior of Castille.... Hey there!" Don Farinas called to the prison servants, "Give this gentleman a room, the best one you have." And to me he said, "God be with you, and I shall see you again this evening."
The warder then came to me and said, "If your grace would like some company, there are some Genoese knights here."
I said I would, and we went up to their rooms. I asked them if I might join them, and they said they would be delighted.
I sent a note to the secretary of the priory of Castille, telling him of what had happened, but he already knew. The Genoese knights gave me a good dinner and let me make up a bed on the floor, which was not as bad as it might have been.
At midnight a magistrate on his way to put the question to a robber called and started asking me questions.
"Your grace knows quite well," I told him, "that the day I put on the habit of the Order of St. John and took my vows I gave up my legal freedom and that I can only be tried by a court of the Religion. Therefore, I pray you take me to the prince, our grand prior, who is my rightful judge."
"If you go on talking like that," he said, "heaven knows what will happen to you."
"What I have said," I replied, "I stand by and I’ll sign my name to it if you want me to." And that was the end of the questioning. The magistrate went home, and I went back to bed. The next morning the same magistrate came to me in a great flurry, telling me to get dressed quickly as the tribunal was waiting.
"I am not going," I replied, "because those gentlemen are not my judges."
He went off to report my words to the tribunal, and they sent him back with eight galley slaves to carry me and my bedding bodily into the court. This I could not stop them from doing.
I was put down in the middle of the courtroom, still in bed just as I had been in the prison. They then started to say to me all the usual things that courts say, but I replied only one word. It was a word, such as I will not write down here, but it was of sufficient contempt for them to have me carried off immediately to be put in a dungeon.
As I was going down a passage way, I met two knights of my order and the treasurer, who were on their way to reclaim my body by order of the priory of Castille.
We all went into the courtroom, and behind locked doors they petitioned for my being handed over to them. A magistrate was sent to the Council of War to report on the situation. One of the knights, called de Valenzuela, went at the same time to the king.
We waited all morning, the court having discontinued its inquiry, but at noon de Valenzuela came back bringing a royal decree. I have, by the way, still got a copy of it. It read:
"Hand over Lieutenant Alonso de Contreras to the prince, the grand prior, my nephew, with all his written statements, provided that the court is satisfied that he has taken his vows in the Religion. If this be so, a copy of the certificate stating so, should be retained by the court."
So I had again to appear before the judge – this time fully dressed – and I was asked for my certificate of acceptance into the Religion. I had it sent for and, after the court all had a look at it and agreed that it was valid, they put me in the hands of the knights, who led me off to the royal jail.
There I stayed until the priory called me and condemned me to two years’ banishment. I then went to serve in the fleet for the period of my punishment.

After two years, I asked permission to return to the court to ask for a captaincy. Forty captains were nominated, but no luck came my way, so I left Madrid intending to go to Malta where my chances might be better. On my way, I fell in with a knight also on his way to my destination. We joined company and went on to Barcelona, where we found a ship sailing for Genoa. From Genoa, we went by land to Rome, which only took a few days. Then an annoying thing happened: I fell sick with malaria. But as I was by no means bedridden by it, I passed the time at the house of some Spanish ladies I knew.
One day, while I was talking with these Spanish ladies, some Italian gentlemen, unknown to me or the women, were let in by the servant. They came into the room we were in and said to me, "What are you doing here?"
"I am talking about Spain," I said, "with these ladies, who are fellow countryfolk of mine."
"Out you go!," one of them said to me brusquely.
To leave on such orders seemed to me rather a shameful thing to do, so I turned a deaf ear and went on talking with the Spanish women.
"Are you waiting for us to throw you downstairs?" they demanded.
By this time, even though I was ill and only able to hold my sword weakly, I could stand no more of their insults. I got up and went for them and knocked them both backward down the stairs. One of them cracked his head. On hearing their yells and moans, one of the many police patrols in Rome came up, arrested us and bundled us, women and all, into a carriage and took us to the governor. The whole story was then explained to him.
No charge was preferred as the women and the men, too, offered to shake hands and forget the whole affair. This we did and returned to our own homes.
But these Italians, lacking the courage to take me on openly. plotted with my innkeeper to have me die another way. They had the innkeeper tell me that there was a doctor who guaranteed to cure me of malaria in four days. And if there was no cure, there would be no payment.
I wanted to get well again quickly, so I said, "Bring him along." The next day my innkeeper came into my room and remarked, "The doctor has come to see you."
In he came. He was dressed in clerical dress. He examined me and asked me about my illness and I told him everything.
"I’ll have you fit in four days," he said as he was leaving, and then, "God be with you. I shall see you again tomorrow, but meantime stay in bed."
He left, and then my host said, "He’s the finest doctor in Rome, you know; he’s Cardinal de Joyosa’s physician."
I waited patiently until the next day for this doctor or devil. whichever you want to call him. He came and took out of his doctor’s bag a little vial of red wine and a piece of paper containing a powder. He asked for a glass and poured in lots of the powder. He then poured in the wine and mixed it up giving it to me. Then he said, "Drink it up, my lord."
I swallowed it down and, when I had finished the draft, he remarked, "Keep yourself warm and you are as good as cured." Then he went away.
In less than ten minutes, my teeth began to chatter and my bowels to gripe so much that I feared I was going to die like a dog. I sent for a priest to make my confession. I vomited violently and passed inky excrement.
As soon as my comrade heard of the trouble, he ran to the Spanish embassy and called the ambassador’s doctor, a Portuguese. He came straightaway, and I told him what had happened. After he had seen what my stomach had rejected in both directions, he prescribed medicines. And thanks to his prescriptions, my illness went away.
Later, he said to me, to explain how sick I felt. "If I gave a mule as much of that powder as goes into a walnut shell, it would die in an hour."
And I had been given a tablespoonful!
The doctor continued to visit me until I was on my feet again. As he was interested in tracing and arresting this false doctor, he asked my innkeeper what he knew about him.
"I had never seen him before," he replied. "But he came here and offered his services, saying that he was the Cardinal de Joyosa’s doctor. What I did, I only did for the best."
However, that doctor was never seen again, and I could only conclude that he had been sent by the two men I had knocked down the stairs.
And so the matter rested. I got stronger and set off for Naples with my comrade, and from there we went to Messina and finally reached Malta.

CHAPTER TWELVE

There were some letters from Spain waiting for me at Malta. Among them was one from the king to the grand master asking him to give me leave to go back to Spain to raise a company of infantry. I was, after all, one of eight lieutenants to be promoted to the rank of captain.
Another letter was addressed to me from Don Bartholomé de Anaya of the Council of War, and it gave official notification of my appointment. I set about my preparations for travel once again and sailed within a fortnight. The grand master instructed me to go through Marseilles and to tell the two galleys of the Religion. which were there, to sail in complete secrecy to Carthagena to collect 200,000 ducats, which had fallen due to the order, and to bring the money to Malta.
I reached Madrid from Malta in twenty-seven days, by way of Barcelona, but when I got there I found that a cousin of mine, a lieutenant who had served in Flanders, had already gone off to Osuna to raise my company for me. As he had not been given a company of his own, he had offered to raise mine in my name. with the rank of lieutenant, on the understanding that if I did not appear before the embarkation date he was to remain in charge. Knowing that I was far off, the council had agreed. But I made such good speed that I got there four months before the day we were to have embarked to go to the Philippine Islands.
When I arrived at Osuna with my commission, which had been given me in Madrid, my cousin nearly died when he saw me. After all, he was thinking how near he had been to becoming a captain. We talked, and I offered to do everything I could for him, as should be the case with a relative and a good friend. He told me how he was looking forward to the expedition and I thought well of him. But I did not know the damnable tricks he was up to.
He got to my page, who was also my lance carrier, and inveigled him into giving me arsenic. The first time the boy did it, he poured it on my eggs in this manner. The eggs were soft-boiled and taken out of their shells. The page then powdered them with arsenic and sugar. I crumbled my bread on them as I always did, and ate them. An hour later, I felt so ill that I thought I was going to die. I called the doctor and made my confession to a priest all in an hour, thinking I was going to expire that night. The whole town sent me their sympathy.
At midnight, they gave me a thick fruit cordial, but the little rascal had run off to the chemist and bought some more arsenic and poured a few pennyworth into my drink. I drank some of it, but it burned four sores into my throat and I could not finish it. The doctors did not know what to think. They went to the chemist to ask what he had put in the cordial, to which he replied, "Only what you told me to put in it."
They then made me take a draft to make me vomit, but it was not necessary, as nature had already done that for me and had been the real cure.
The next day, the governor and all the important people of the town came to visit. The governor, unknown to me, had the woman who was doing the cooking in my house arrested and gave orders that my food should come from his own kitchens. But at lunch time, the little page again found my plate of food and put another packet of arsenic in it.
I ate one mouthful and immediately started being sick again. This vomiting was assumed to have been caused by the other meals in which there had been arsenic.
As it was August and very hot, I had a soldier around who fanned me and kept off the flies. The man was called Nieto, and, at that time, he, too, was feeling ill in the nether regions.
"Give it to me," he said. "I’ll eat it, meat and all, even though it is Friday."
Well, the poor fellow ate my almost untouched lunch, and at five o’clock that evening he died.
During all the time that I was ill, my cousin did not visit me at all. I handed over all my possessions to the magistrate with verbal instructions of what he was to do in the case of my death, which was just as good as a formal will. Then my page boy went to the magistrate and said to him, "Sir, my master sends me to ask you to give me the key of his chest, so that I can find an indulgenced rosary he has there."
There was, in actual fact, an indulgenced rosary in my baggage. The magistrate gave him the key and the boy helped himself to six hundred reales , a 250-carat Maltese cross, as well as stockings, garters, and cummerbunds. After that, he did not show his face all day.
That evening, the magistrate came to see me and asked, "And how do you feel now?"
"Better," I replied.
But I felt better only because I was no longer being dosed with arsenic. Then, he went on to talk about the rosary and to ask what indulgences were attached to it.
"What rosary?" I asked.
"Didn’t you send your page to ask me for the key of your chest to get it out for you?"
"No," I replied.
"Well, I gave it to him," said the magistrate.
A search party was then sent out for the boy, and he was caught at the house of a muleteer, with whom he had just made his arrangements to go to Seville. He was brought in front of me, and I demanded the key back, which he produced. The chest was opened, and all the things I have already mentioned were missing.
"Where have you put all these things?" I asked him.
"I have hidden them," he said, and told us where. Some men went with him and everything was found except twenty-six reales . Then I said, "Empty out his pockets."
This was done, and a packet of arsenic was found. Someone opened it, and the innkeeper’s wife recognized it as arsenic and said, "Gentlemen, that is the poison that the captain has been given."
I looked at it, too, and saw that the woman was right. It was arsenic. I turned on the boy.
"You traitor!" I said. "What have I done to you that makes you want to poison me?"
"Sir, I found this packet in the street," he replied.
I then turned to the magistrate and said, "Please send for the hangman, and then we’ll get the truth out of all this."
But the magistrate replied. "It would be better, I think, to take him to jail and put him through the usual processes and questionings, under torture if necessary, and we will find out soon enough who’s at the bottom of this plot."
That seemed to be reasonable enough, so I sent for my lieutenant, whom I had not seen for two days, and ordered him to take the child off to prison under a guard of four soldiers.
He came with his posse of men and took the boy away, but since he was the root of all the corruption, when he reached the San Domingo Church, he advised the boy to take asylum there. The little rascal did not need to be told twice: He ran in and threw himself on the mercy of the monks. That was not all. The lieutenant begged the Dominican monks, saying, "I pray you do not give the boy up, as the captain will hang him the moment you do." The monks, when they had heard this, sent the boy off to Seville that same night.
From the time that no more arsenic was put in my food, 1 started getting better. God preserved me for his own purposes and only He knew what they were. Soon, to the delight of the town, I was able to walk again.
When I felt well enough, I went to Seville with six soldiers to find this boy. We made a systematic search of the town, found him quite easily, and brought him back to Osuna.
Everyone there hoped that an example would be made of him. A court was convened, and the boy was charged. He confessed under torture that my cousin the lieutenant had induced him to poison me by promises of money and position. He was judged to be deserving of hanging, but was not old enough. Eventually, he was bound to a prison post and given a hundred lashes and had the forefinger and thumb of each hand cut off because they were the offending digits that had done the sprinkling.
In my dying confession, I had promised to God to forgive whoever it was who had been the cause of my death. The confessor had dragged it from me knowing it was my cousin. So when the governor wanted to arrest him, I refused to make any charge against him and instead sent for him and said, "Begone and ask no reasons. If there is anything you need, ask for it and I will give it you."
He went as white as a ghost and vanished in less than an hour, not being able to believe that I would not go back on my word. I later heard that he had gone to the Indies; he never again showed his face in Spain.
As for myself, for two years I did not have the proper use of my hands and feet. They tingled unremittingly. The poison had also taken all the strength out of my body. The doctor said that the only reason I was not dead was that my stomach had gotten used to poison during my last visit to Rome.

The captain of commissariat came and reviewed the company, and we marched off toward Sanlúcar, where the fleet, which was to sail for the Philippines, was lying ready at anchor. I was detailed to embark on the galleon La Concepción, in command of three companies of infantry. We then sailed to Cádiz, which was our starting-off point for the voyage to the Philippines.
At Cádiz, we got orders from the king telling us not to sail to the Philippines but to join the royal fleet instead. We were to sail in company with the silver galleons and all the Spanish galleys to Gibraltar, where the Dutch fleet was expected. Prince Philibert was the general of the force.
At the entrance to Cádiz Harbor, there is a reef, called Diamond Reef, which is not very far under the water. Many ships have wrecked themselves there. I, by the greatest bad luck, hit it and foundered in full view of the whole squadron. Fortunately, no one drowned, as we were picked up by the longboats of the fleet and by the flagship, which was under the command of the marquis of Santa Cruz.
Prince Philibert gave orders for my arrest, and I was taken aboard his galleon, where I stayed for the whole period of the expedition. And I was not let ashore until the Council of War was satisfied that the sinking was not my fault, and my name was cleared.
We sailed up and down the straits from Gibraltar to Cape Spartel for three months with several other ships of the fleet, waiting for a Dutch fleet that never came.
This cruise started in January 1616, and, in March or April of that year, orders came for the fleet to be split up. In particular, the ships which were to have gone to the Philippines were to sail straightaway, as they were badly needed there.
Six galleons were attached to the royal fleet, and the infantry, which was the best in the world, was ordered to Lombardy under the high command of Don Carlos de Ibarra. The colonel of these 2,500 men was Don Pedro Estaban of Avila.
As for myself, I stayed in Spain with another captain, as the king had sent orders to the marquis of Santa Cruz that read like this: "It is desirable that we should reinforce the regiments in Lombardy. Don Pedro Estaban de Avila should take with him as well as his own troops the companies of Captains Contreras and Cornejo. These captains, being expert navigators, are to remain in Spain to raise more men for the Philippines."
So we did not go to Italy but went under the orders of the marquis to the court. They kept us there six months and at last I was given orders to go to Seville at a moment’s notice and to report to the Junta of War for the Indies. I was told that further orders would be sent me while I was on my way. Don Fernando Carillo, president of the junta, sent for me and gave me five hundred escudos for my journey, and that evening I set off on muleback for Seville.

At Cordova, a courier brought me a letter ordering me to report for further orders to the duke of Medina at Sanlúcar. I saw his excellency, and he ordered me to go in complete secrecy to Cádiz with orders for the governor of Cádiz, adding privately that the infantry at Cádiz was to be embarked on the two galleons. They were to be put aboard at nine o’clock the next day.
I saw the governor. The letter I brought instructed him to spend some money and revictual and equip the companies there. We had the companies assembled, and I had to pick two hundred men; I was to be in command of this new company and of the two galleys. I had no superior officer, not a captain, lieutenant or even a sergeant.
Everything was done in utmost secrecy, and we got the men aboard. Had these ruffians – and they were the dregs of Andalusia – gotten any idea of what was happening, we should not have gotten one of them near a ship.
We marched to Sanlúcar, and the duke had the two galleons ready as he had promised. They were both of four hundred tons and equipped with artillery and food, as well as extra war stores of gunpowder, fuses, and lead, which we were taking to reequip the place we were going to. As soon as I reached Sanlúcar, I was ordered to embark my infantry. This I did, putting one hundred men in each galley so quickly that they scarcely realized what had happened.
The captain of the other galleon then arrived from the court and we, too, embarked for our expedition to the Indies. Our orders were to give help to Puerto Rico, which was being besieged by the Dutch.
I was instructed to wait for my final sailing orders at Los Pozuelos, which was near the mouth of the Guadalquivir River. Meanwhile, these soldiers, who were all pressed men and were leaving mistresses of long-standing and, by the way, the worst cutthroats in Andalusia, decided to try to make a fool of me.
When, for example, I said to them, "Down below, gentlemen, everyone below decks, it’s nighttime, now," they would reply, "What do you think we are? Old hens, who spend all day in their nests? You leave us alone!"
I was so worried that I could not sleep thinking how I should ever see this voyage through. Except for fifteen sailors and six artillerymen, I had no one but sworn enemies aboard. So I thought up a way around the problem.
I carefully looked over these pressed men and picked out the biggest rogue of the lot, one whom the men seemed to respect. I then called him and said, "Ah, Señor Juan Gómez, come with me."
I took him into my cabin in the poop and asked him, "How long now have you served the king?"
"It must be five years now," he replied, "A while at Cádiz, then at Letrache after that, and I did one voyage with the fleet."
"Well," I replied, "I have taken a liking to you and I am only sorry that I can’t promote you and have you as my lieutenant." This delighted him, and he said, "There are men who would do worse than me."
"Well then," I went on, "if you would like to be sergeant of this company, go ashore now and make a formal application. And if you haven’t enough money to buy yourself a halberd, I will pay for it myself."
"Thank you," he replied, "but I still have fifty pesos and will buy one myself, since your grace does me such great honor."
I must explain that there were men aboard who would have given two hundred silver dollars to go ashore. I gave him a letter for the purser and said, "Get along now. You have now put your foot on the ladder toward becoming a lieutenant. Remember now, I have put my trust in you."
He jumped into a longboat, went ashore, asked for his promotion, and came back in no time equipped with a sergeant’s halberd. When my cutthroats saw Gómez back as a sergeant, they thought that their schemes were even more certain of success. But I put my plan into operation and sent for the sergeant. When he came to my room, I said to him, "You are no longer the man you used to be. You are now an officer and for an officer, the slightest infractions of discipline are treason. Tell me, now, in your capacity as a sergeant, which of these men are the most dangerous and the most likely to cause us trouble."
"Do not disturb yourself, your grace," he replied, "they are a poor lot. Only Calderón and Montanes are near to being real men."
"All right," I said, "tonight, when we give the men orders to turn in, stand by me with a naked sword."
"But why, sir? By Christ, a truncheon is all they need."
"No, I say. When soldiers come to heel and eat their pride, it is not done with a big stick, but by a sword."
That evening, as usual, I said, "Down below, gentlemen, below decks. It’s time for bed."
And Calderón and others replied with their usual insolence, "Let us alone!"
I was standing near Calderón, and I raised my sword and struck him with a powerful blow on the head and split it open so you could see his brains. Then I shouted, "Get down below, you insolent devils!"
In a moment, each one was in his bunk, gentle as a lamb.
Later, a man was sent to me, who said, "Sir, Calderón is dying." "Let him confess his sins," I said, "and then throw him in the sea."
But I gave orders to my own crew that Calderón was to be looked after. Montanes I had clapped in irons, and the result of my plan was that these men were so quiet that for the whole voyage I scarcely heard a single "By Christ."
I must explain that I prevented swearing by making anyone who did so stand for an hour wearing on his head a great helmet weighing thirty pounds and a breastplate of the same weight.
I let the captain of the other ship know what I had done and recommended him to do the same. But when his men had heard what had happened on my galleon, they gave up all their plan of running the galleons ashore at Aranas Gordas and escaping and killing me if I tried to stop them.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I sailed out of port and navigated for forty-six days with no sight of land, save the Canary Islands, until we reached Martinique. At Martinique, I took on stores of fresh water.
I saw some Indians there who, though they were quite wild, had grown accustomed to the comings and goings of our fleet and always used to come down to look at the ships. But, for all that, no one dared venture far ashore as the Indians were known to have captured many of our sailors and eaten them.
I then sailed north through the Virgin Islands. Not even savages lived there. Soon I made for the narrows of the Puerto Rico channel where English, Dutch, and French pirates used to cruise.
I arrived at the head of the channel after dark, but before risking the galleons I made a survey of the waters in a well-armed longboat.
During this reconnaissance, I left the galleons in one of the two excellent harbors there. I found no other ship in the channel so we sailed on to Puerto Rico. At sunrise, I was at the entrance to its harbor.
I sailed in, flags flying, and was enthusiastically welcomed by Don Felipe de Biamonte y Navarra, the governor. He said to me, "It’s a miracle you didn’t meet the English pirate, Sir Walter Raleigh. He has been sailing around these waters with five ships, three large and two small ones, and has been robbing us every day."
I unloaded the gunpowder, which they badly needed as their own stores had nearly run out, and also the fuses, lead, and some muskets. The governor, when he saw it all, was a happy man. He then asked me to leave forty men to reinforce his garrison. When the men heard of this there was a resistance such as I have never seen in my life. Nobody wanted to go ashore; they were almost in tears at the very thought of being left there. And not without reason, for to join the garrison there was equivalent to a life sentence in slavery. So I said to them, "My children, I am compelled to leave forty soldiers here, but I shall not order a single. one of you ashore by name. You must condemn yourselves. Nobody, not even my servant, shall be exempt from the lottery. If he draws a black spot, he, too, will be left behind here."
I then made as many cards as I had soldiers and marked forty of them with black spots. I put them in a jar and mixed them all up in front of the men. Then, in order of the roll call, I summoned each man and said to him, "Draw a card. A black spot means that you stay in Puerto Rico."
They all did as I said, and the faces they made when they drew a black spot were worth seeing. However, since my servant, who also served as my barber, was the first to draw a black spot, proving the whole draw to be fair and above board, the unlucky ones consoled themselves.
The island of Santo Domingo was the court of the Spanish possessions in those parts at that time, and there was a president, law courts, and judges there. It was the first land that we Spaniards conquered in the Indies.
There were in Puerto Rico at that time two Spanish ships that were going to San Domingo. They were loaded with ox hides and ginger and, for safety, they sailed there in company with us. On my arrival, I was given a good welcome and set about carrying out the orders I had received in Spain. I was to set up a little fortress at the mouth of the river.
Two days later, I received word that Guaterral – that is what we called Sir Walter Raleigh – was riding at anchor with all his five ships not far away. I talked to the president about going to look for him, and he agreed to my plan. But the masters of the two cargo ships protested, saying, "If you lose our ships, you’ll have to pay for them."
But for all that, I armed both of them, and another which had come from Cape Verde with a cargo of negroes. And with these ships and my own two galleons, we left port, trying to look as much like cargo ships as we could, and sailed towards the enemy.
When the enemy saw us, I veered away. But we fled very slowly and, in no time, our foes crowded in. Suddenly, I turned my bows on them, hoisted my standards, and attacked. They retaliated.. and, since they could handle their sails better than we could, they were able to close in or open the range at their pleasure. I could not get my claws on them.
Still we fought. With a musket shot, we killed one of their captains before they sailed away, realizing that we were not merchantmen but warships after their blood.
I then sailed back to Santo Domingo to finish the fortress I was building. When I had completed it, I went on to Cuba, where I had to build another little redoubt. I did this in four days, posted a garrison of ten men there, and returned to Santo Domingo. I left the merchantmen and fifty soldiers there and, taking only the other galleon with me, sailed for Santiago. Santiago was a town on the south side of Cuba. Havana, El Bayamo, and other cities had also been built on that island, but I do not remember all their names. I built another redoubt there and on leaving fell on a ship at anchor by the Isle of Pines. This ship surrendered without a fight. She turned out to be one of Guaterral’s five. The English prisoners I took told me how Sir Walter Raleigh had fled and had made for the Bahama’s channel. They also told me his son, who was a sea captain, too, had been killed, and thirteen men besides. Apparently, Sir Walter had sailed back to England, taking his prizes with him.
I sent word to the president of San Domingo and to the governor of Puerto Rico that Sir Walter Raleigh had left and they need not worry anymore.
The English ship I had captured was loaded with brazilwood and a small cargo of sugar, which the soldiers had looted. There were now twenty-one Englishmen aboard, all of whom I took to Havana, where they stayed until the arrival of the Spanish fleet, which, in due course, took them to Spain.
Meanwhile, I handed over all the stores and infantry I had to Señor Sancho de Alquiza, the captain general of Cuba and all the neighboring islands. I returned to Spain in the company of the Spanish fleet, under the command of Don Carlos de Ibarra. 1 went to the Indies in 1618 and got home to Spain in 1619.

I disembarked at Sanlúcar and was ordered to Seville. There I presented myself to Señor Juan Ruiz de Contreras, who was lying sick at the time. Before his illness, he had been fitting out a fleet to go to the Philippines. He told me that he had orders from the king that I was to help him. I did so, and Juan Ruiz sent me straightaway to Borgo, where six heavy galleons and two fleet tenders were being refitted. I carried out my orders and had the ships careened and caulked and then brought them from the careenage basin to Sanlúcar.
The ships were victualed, the artillery mounted, and the infantry – one thousand good men as well as the sailors and artillerymen – put aboard.
The general of the fleet was Don Coaçola of the Order of Santiago, and he, like all his men, set sail with bad grace. And it was a bad end that they came to. Thirteen days after their departure from Cádiz in fine weather, they hit a storm. They were driven back and foundered only twenty miles from port.
The admiral was called something-or-other Figueroa; I do not remember his full name. However, after this disaster, he was wiped off the list of admirals and never was another fleet risked in his hands. I heard it said that without a doubt, it was the admiral’s fault. He was no man of the sea. In fact, this was the first time he had been to sea.
The flagships of General Coaçola and the admiral were both thrown up on the same beach. There was not a splinter of the general’s ship left, and it was an eight hundred ton galleon with forty heavy-caliber cannons. The general and all his crew except for four men were drowned. The admiral’s vessel had better luck. Almost every man was saved, as the ship hit the beach in deeper water and did not get smashed by the storm so quickly. The other ships ran with the storm through the straits; one of them was wrecked at Tarifa, another at Gibraltar, and a third at Cape Gata. The two fleet tenders were saved. And that was the end of that fleet.
In order to salvage what we could, I was sent off – just as though the disaster had all been my fault – with two schooners to the Tarifa beach to pick up the thirty bronze cannons that had been thrown ashore by the crew of the galleon. We had heard that two Algerian galleons were there waiting for a chance to capture the cannons, but up to then the crew ashore had stopped them. However, I arrived there with two schooners and took the cannons aboard. I had been given orders that if the enemy closed in on me and was likely to attack, I was to scuttle both the schooners with all the artillery aboard, so that the Algerian galleons should not capture these powerful guns and thus be as well armed as ourselves and a threat to our future.
I hugged the coast, while the Algerians stood out to sea. This maneuver came off most satisfactorily, as the Algerians were not able to attack in shallow water and I succeeded in saving the artillery.

A few days later, news reached Cádiz that Mamora was being besieged by land and sea – by land by thirty thousand Moors, who had made three assaults, and by sea by twenty-eight galleys, half of them Turkish and half Dutch. This enemy fleet was blockading the port and preventing any help arriving.
The duke of Medina gave orders that relief was to be sent immediately to Mámora. Don Fadrique de Toledo set about making his galleons fit for sea, but, due to one thing and another, he was unable to carry out the expedition. So we had to be satisfied with loading two schooners with gunpowder, fuses, and bullets.
The garrison at Mámora had scarcely anything left to fight with. As for fuses, they had even used the ropes that drew the buckets out of the wells and the cords that held up the soldiers’ hammocks.
I realized how important it was for these two schooners to sail quickly, but I waited to see the result of the order to the garrison asking for volunteers. When neither officers nor men offered themselves, I went to the duke and said, "Señor, I request your excellency to entrust this expedition to me. If you will grant me this privilege of relieving Mamora, you may brand me on the forehead with an ’S’ and a nail, as they do the slaves."
This pleased him very much, and he gave me orders to sail. But when the captains of the garrison heard that I had been detailed for the expedition, they went to the duke and said, "This job should have been given to one of the officers under your grace’s command and not to Contreras, who is only here to refit the fleet for the Philippines."
When I heard about this, I went into a public place and said loudly for everyone to hear, "By God, I asked for this command but have been given it only after those who insult me now have failed to come forward with their men when they had their orders. In any case, I am a captain and senior to the lot of them. And if anyone wants to repeat his words, I will wait for him by the church of Santa Caterina for a little throat-cutting."
While I was walking toward the Santa Caterina Church, the duke’s adjutant overtook me and told me that the duke wished to see me. I went to see him, and the duke told me to bring him a ticket of leave from Juan Ruiz de Contreras, under whose orders I was. I did this, and he gave me my sailing orders, which amounted to this: "With good luck, and with the help of God, relieve Mámora or die fighting."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

I sailed, and planned my 130-mile route to Mámora so that at daybreak I would be in the middle of the enemy’s fleet. The weather was perfect, and my timing worked precisely.
I reckoned that the twenty-eight enemy ships would be lying at anchor about three miles offshore so as to be out of artillery range. They would also be away from the surf and breakers set up by the sandbars across the mouth of the river; these breakers started nearly three miles out to sea. My plan was, then, at dawn to be in the middle of the fleet and to jump my schooner over the sandbar with the surf. If any of the enemy wanted to chase me, they would have to do the same, or try to sail around the sandbar and outflank me.
Well, everything went according to plan. When they saw me, all they did was to let fly a few musket shots and cannonballs, but nothing much. Everything happened so quickly that they had no time to do any damage.
I went into port. I was like the dove bringing the good news back to the Ark. The men welcomed me wildly and especially did good old Lechuga, the governor, who had been defending the town like the valiant man he was.
We put ashore the stores I had bought. Then, we saw the enemy ships weigh anchor and sail away. They were expecting the royal fleet to arrive, after seeing me, and they were not far wrong, as it did arrive the next morning.
That evening, I dined with the governor. While we were eating, we heard a trumpeter blow the alarm.
"What is it?" asked the governor.
"Six Moorish chiefs have come to discuss the price of peace," he was told.
The governor ordered the gates opened and these men taken to the house of a certain Jew, who used to act as interpreter. It was a custom for all these petty ambassadors to be taken to this Jew’s house, as he arranged for them to have something to eat and smoke. When they were settled in with the Jew, Colonel Lechuga gave this order to his men, "All the powder and fuses are to be carried past the house where the chiefs are, and all of Captain Contreras’s troops are to pass by the window also."
This was because my men were all well dressed, while the colonel’s troops were in rags patched together with bits of leather. In this way, the colonel intended to make a good showing before the conference began.
The colonel and I then went to join these Moorish chiefs. They were men of quality, or so they seemed. They were wearing very finely embroidered sword belts, good quality boots, and excellent cloaks and fezzes. In fact, their clothes were altogether different from the local Moors. We each made our salutations. We then all sat down and drank to each other’s health. These Moors, it turned out, were as heavy drinkers as the porters in Madrid!
The troops then started filing past the window carrying all the new stores, and then all my men marched past. The Moorish chiefs watched it all carefully and then one of them said, "We have just come to say good-bye to you. Seven thousand of our tribe are leaving this evening, and all the others will be on their way home during the night. We have come to see you to ask for your friendship and to ask if you would like to buy five hundred sheep and thirty cows."
"Certainly," said the governor, and gave them a great box of tobacco, tobacco being the most acceptable present one could possibly offer a Moor.

Without being able to market their goods in Mámora, these Moors could not exist. They used to bring to Mámora everything they had looted and even things they had come by honestly. For four reales , they would give you a sheep as big as a heifer; for sixteen reales , a cow. Wheat could be had for three reales , and two chickens for a single real. So with the guarantee of the governor that they could still be friends and sell their goods in Mámora, the Moors went their way. I prepared for my departure, too.
This Mámora was situated on the mouth of a river. There was a sandbar, but, for all that, heavy galleons could still sail up the river. However, if the enemy captured it, they could do a great deal of damage to Spain, it being only 130 miles from Cádiz. Our ships were constantly going in and out of Cádiz and Sanlúcar.
At present, the Moors had to make the long journey from Algiers or Tunis, as well as pass through the dangerous Straits of Gibraltar. But if the Moors could make little sorties from Mámora, our ships would be in very great danger of being captured. The Mamora River was navigable for ninety miles inland as far as Tleta. A whole fleet could be victualed and equipped there quite easily and cheaply. For that reason, the Dutch coveted it very much. A good example of what could happen if we lost Mámora could be seen from what went on at Salé, an excellent fortress some ten miles down the coast from Mámora.
At Salé, there was a little river that could only take shallow draft boats such as schooners and fleet tenders. Well, the Moriscos – they were the ones who had been thrown out of Andalusia – were continuously attacking the shipping on our Spanish coast with their nutshell boats. Every year, they captured some five hundred slaves from our ships arriving from the Azores, the Canaries, or from Brazil or Pernambuco. These pirates would make the voyage to the Portuguese coast and back in twenty-four hours, and make a little loot on the way. But you will be complaining by now that I am not telling my life story as I promised, but writing a history book. By God, though, I am not badly qualified to meddle in history.

That night, I sailed past the bar of the Mámora River and saw the dawn at Cádiz. At least, I tied up in the port before midday. I went to see the duke at Conil, and he invited me to lunch. With dessert, he read the letter which the governor of Mámora had given me to take to the king. The duke was delighted with the news and told me to leave for Madrid without wasting a minute.
He gave me a letter to the king, giving me full praise for my exploit, which made me very proud. To round off the honor, he gave me a purse containing a hundred doubloons. The duke’s servants said that the duke was very pleased with himself as this expedition of mine was the neatest operation he had pulled off in his whole life.
I went to the Santa Maria Gate, where a contractor gave me 150 escudos to carry the post to Madrid. With that and good horses, I reached Madrid in three and a half days, a distance of well over two hundred miles. So, in all, I had left Spain, been to Barbary, come back, and gone to the court in under nine days.
I got off my horse at the palace and went up to see the king, dressed just as I was. Don Baltasar de Zúniga came out to meet me – may he rest in heavenand I told him the news. He led me into the king’s presence. I genuflected and gave him the two letters I was carrying, one from the governor of Mámora proving my story and the other from the duke.
Don Baltasar told the king that the governor of Mámora had referred them to Captain Contreras for a full story of what had happened. So the king gave the letters to Don Baltasar, and started asking me all about it. I told his majesty everything that he wanted to know, and, while I was answering all his questions, he played with and tossed about the cords and tassels which hung on the habit of the Religion I was wearing.
After a short time, Don Baltasar said, "Go and lie down, you must be worn out after your travels."
On my way downstairs, I passed by the offices of the government and the Council of State. The Council of State was in session at that time and, as I passed the door, an attendant asked me to go into the courtroom.
I went into the middle of the room and all the lords and gentlemen gave me a standing ovation. They asked me how things were in Mamora when I left. I told them my story and they were much relieved.
I then left and got on my post-horses and went to the house of an uncle I had at court. He was postmaster of Portugal. There I went to sleep; I needed it.
The next morning, a sergeant came to my house and told me that Don Baltasar wanted to see me. I went along, full of expectations. Although he was surrounded by many people who wanted to talk with him, he made way for me and immediately offered a chair. Then he asked me what posts I had previously held, adding, "Because his majesty wishes to do you a favor."
"I have been a captain of Spanish infantry," I replied, "and am at the moment attached to the Philippine fleet and am picking up the broken bits of it. My pay has been fifty escudos a month for the last two years."
"What do you fancy?" he asked me. "What job catches your eye?"
"I have not become too proud because of the services I have done for the state, but the council did suggest to me yesterday that I should be an admiral of some fleet or other."
"Jesus!" he replied. "Captain, you shall have it. And with a pretty little salary, too!"
I kissed his hand for the honor he did me, and then he said, "Go and see Secretary Juan de Ynástigui and he will give you your new title."
I went home feeling very pleased. The next day, I went to see this secretary. With him, I found Don Baltasar, who said to me, "How is it going? Here is your commission and a draft of money. But have patience for the rest. That is all his majesty can do for you as regards your pay for the moment."
"Señor," I replied, "I don’t need money if it is scarce. I am after honor, not money."
I offered him back his draft, but he would not take it, though he greatly appreciated my generosity. The draft was for three hundred silver ducats.
The commission was a royal decree addressed to Don Fernando Carillo, president of the Indies. I took it to him, and he received it with his usual heathen expression – he had no other – and dryly dismissed me, saying. "His majesty’s orders will be dealt with in due course."
One month, then two months passed, and I was offered no post, so I went to see Don Baltasar. He gave me a letter for Don Fernando ordering that I should be given a post, adding that since the king wished to do me a special favor, there was no need to wait for the next sitting of the council.
I gave this letter to our good heathen, but he must have been entangled with someone else. He had given away the only post and I was left out in the cold. As soon as I learned this, I went, without wasting any more time, to beg an audience with the king. Anyone wishing for an audience with the king just had to wait in the corridors until the opportunity came to speak. When my chance came, I said, "Your majesty, I have served you for twenty-five years in many lands as you may see in this memorandum. My most recent service was carrying out the relief of Mámora. Your majesty honored me with a decree according me a post of admiral of a fleet. Many times before it has been suggested as a recompense for my services, but now after your majesty has actually given the instructions, the president has not yet put my name up."
He snatched the memorandum from my hands, swung himself round, and went off leaving us feeling all very uncomfortable. That Philip IV had only just come to the throne and was unused to his crown was the only explanation we could find for his behavior.
I went off to console myself with Don Baltasar and to ask his help again. While I was waiting in the anteroom, the president came in the one with the heathen expression on his face that I have told you about. He was looking very bitter, as though he had been told off in high quarters. He went into Don Baltasar’s office, and I followed in behind, despite the resistance of the doorman to whom I said, "It’s quite all right, my lord president and I are on the same business."
Don Baltasar was there with the count of Monterey and a Dominican monk, the son of the count of Benavente. Don Baltasar was standing in the center of the room with the president when I went up to them and said, "I beg your excellencies to ask my lord president of the Indies if he is dissatisfied with me as an officer and for that reason will not give me a post."
The president stretched out his hands toward me and said, "Señor, you are an excellent officer. Did we not send you to Puerto Rico, where you acquitted yourself brilliantly?"
"If I am such an excellent officer, why has your lordship not appointed me to a post?" I asked. "The king has ordered it and his excellency, Don Baltasar, sent you a note to remind you." "Señor," he said, "it will all be done, but for the moment there is no vacancy."
I turned to Don Baltasar and said, "Do not believe it, your excellency. He is deceiving you as he deceived me."
Then, the president shouted, "But I’ve told you all the posts are filled now."
Then Don Baltasar said, "But your excellency, please bear in mind that the king wishes to confer an honor on the captain."
Don Fernando could not speak. His words strangled in his throat, and he stormed out of the room. But before he reached the road he collapsed and fainted away.
He was put in his carriage for dead, but a doctor put tourniquets on his arms and legs to try to bring him back to life. By the grace of God, Don Fernando recovered sufficiently to make his confession. Then he died. May God forgive him the harm he did me. It was no satisfaction to me that he was without the breath of life, as I was still without the post of admiral. Don Baltasar then said to me, in effect, "It is not right for a favor to be conferred on a man who has killed the minister."
One might have thought I had let him have a volley from my culverin! However, as far as I have heard, it was not me who was to blame for his death, but a certain letter from very high quarters.
After all that, I retired from the palace completely. Then, one fine day, more than six months later, when I was least expecting anything, a sergeant came to call to tell me that the count of Olivares wanted to see me.
I went along, curious to see what it was all about. As I entered the room, the first thing he said was, "Captain Contreras, make no complaints to me, though I know you have been badly treated. The king has decided to build a fleet to guard the Straits of Gibraltar; I am to be the general of this fleet. The junta of the fleets has nominated sixteen practical and experienced men from various parts of the Spanish territories. Two have been chosen from the court: One is Colonel Don Pedro Osorio, the other is yourself. Consider it an honor."
I thanked his excellency for the favor that he had done me and said to him, "My lord, I have been a captain twice, but now I am earning fifty escudos a month from the fleet. I would not be happy to lead a company again at a lower pay."
"You have said enough," he said, "I will see that your pay is raised."
Then I replied, "Will your excellency permit me to raise this infantry company in Madrid?"
"It has never been done before," he said, "but if it will please you, I will speak to the king about it."
He got the king’s permission and we raised our companies in Madrid, the colonel and I. We were the first officers ever to fly their own flags in Madrid while the court was there too.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I flew my standard in the Antón Martín quarter of the town and recruited 312 soldiers in less than a month. I paraded the men in front of all the nobility and marched out of Madrid at the head of the column.
My poor mother at last had some consolation for all the worries that my erratic career in this world had caused her.
The day after I had left Madrid, the rumor spread around the court that I had been killed at Getafe and the whole court was sad, just as though I had been a noble lord.
The marquis of Barcarrota was said to have started the story about my death at a pelota game. Immediately, the president of Castille, Don Francisco de Contreras, rushed off horsemen to find out the facts and to arrest my murderer, if the story turned out to be true.
I sent back word by the horsemen that I was well, and the court was delighted. Now this next thing I will tell you shows the advantage of being well thought of by the world. This rumored death earned me five hundred masses, which the kind people at the hospice of Buen Suceso had celebrated for the repose of my soul. And offerings for the saying of three hundred more were received. I learned all this much later from Don Diego de Córdoba, who was majordomo of the hospice.
I went on with my troops to Cádiz, and made an impressive entry into the town at the head of my three hundred or so men.
We were assigned to serve with the fleet and embarked to go to Gibraltar to join the ships, which were under the command of General Don Juan Fajardo. The whole fleet consisted of twenty-two big galleons and two fleet tenders. At Gibraltar, we were assigned to a galleon called The Admiral of Naples. This galleon was so called as she was from Naples and belonged to the duke of Ossuna. She was one of the six galleons in our squadron, which had been made famous by the élan and courage of General Francisco de Ribera. If only it had pleased God to make stalwart Ribera general of the whole fleet and not commander only of his six galleons, the king would have been served better and we would have won some glory.
Some Turkish ships were sighted going through the Straits of Gibraltar and along the African coast under our very noses. We sallied out with a few ships and succeeded in capturing some of them.
A little later, on 6 October 1624, we had an encounter with eighty-two ships of the Dutch fleet. Not all of that fleet, however, were men-of-war. We ran them down about fifty miles to sea from Málaga. All that I can tell you is that Ribera’s flagship and my ship, which was second in importance in our Neapolitan fleet to the flagship of Don Juan Fajardo, attacked the enemy at four o’clock in the afternoon.
I will tell you no more of what happened after that than that the enemy laughed us to scorn. If Ribera’s ship had not been holed below the waterline, and if he had not had to stop and lower a boat and repair it, the battle might have turned out better. Well, as for this regrettable cannonball, all I will say is that it was not fired by any of the enemy ships. Let no more be said and let us pass on.
Night fell and our Dutchmen sailed through the straits without being challenged by a soul. That was more than they had ever hoped for, and I heard later that they had been prepared to lose as many as one-quarter of their ships.

We sailed back into Gibraltar and Don Juan Fajardo stayed there, while Ribera and I went off to meet the galleons coming from the Americas with silver. We found them and escorted them as far as Sanlúcar, On this voyage, we captured two Turkish ships loaded with sugar.
We returned to Gibraltar to spend the winter, and there I fell sick. Don Juan Fajardo allowed me twenty days convalescence in Seville and, when I overstayed my leave, gave my company to another officer. When I heard this I went to the court to submit my complaint, and there his majesty gave me the command of five hundred foot soldiers, divided into four companies for service in the Genoese galleys.
I recruited the men, and we were just about to set off for Genoa when I received orders to go to Lisbon with all my men to man the fleet. It had just been equipped to combat the English. Thomás de Larraspur was in command.
We waited for over two months for this English fleet, first at Cascaes, then at Balém. We had gotten rumors that they were going to attack us at Lisbon and that the Jews there had sent for them.
The English learned that we were waiting for them near Lisbon, so they swept round onto Cádiz. But even when this was known, we were ordered to keep our guard on Lisbon, and we did so until we heard that the fleet had retreated to England.

The marquis of La Hinojosa, the supreme commander on land and sea, then set about demobilizing his forces; my company was among the first to be dismissed.
We went back to Madrid to ask for orders to join the Genoese galleys for which my company was originally recruited. But that fine flame of hope flickered and went out. The truth was that the Genoese had become strong and no longer needed Spanish troops. And despite the efforts of the duke of Tarsis in trying to keep the galleys manned by Spaniards, he never succeeded. And so there we were, in Madrid, unemployed and always asking to go on service.
For all that, I was not so unlucky. Lope de Vega, a man to whom I had never spoken a word in my life, took me to his house and said most gracefully, "Sir, with men such as yourself, one is compelled to share one’s cape."
He then kept me with him as his companion for more than eight months. He gave me my meals, a bed, and even made me presents of clothes. May God be kind to him! As though what he had done was not enough, he dedicated a comedy, King Without a Kingdom, to me. It was in the twentieth volume of his works and was about my being accused of being king of the Moriscos.
Having no money, I felt ashamed of living at the court, which at the best of times was no place for a soldier. I decided to go back to Malta to see if I had any expectations from the order and if I could earn a meal there.
I asked the council for some pay to go to Sicily, it being near Malta. I was given thirty escudos, which was five escudos more than they usually give to captains. When everything was in order, I set out for Barcelona and, by way of Genoa and Naples, reached Sicily. There I presented my papers and got another pay.

A month later, when I went to the viceroy of Sicily, the duke of Albuquerque, to ask permission to go to Malta, he offered me the governorship of Pantellaria, an island which lay almost on the Barbary Coast. There was a small castle there and a garrison of 120 Spanish soldiers.
On my way to Pantellaria, I passed through Malta and made inquiries about getting a commandery, on the income of which I could live. But I was told that I had not done enough service for the order, nor had I even lived in Malta long enough to earn any privileges. In any case, the commanderies which were given to ordinary brothers servants-at-arms were not many, and the best of them did not have an income of six hundred ducats.
I was governor of Pantelleria for nearly a year and a half. During that time, all that happened was that I had a few quarrels with those who came there to victual their ships with meat and water.
But what I did do was set about putting the church in order. It belonged to the Brotherhood of Our Lady of the Rosary and was as badly thatched as a roadside inn.
I sent to Sicily for wood and paints and for a painter. I had a new wood roof made, supported on good strong beams, with six stone vaultings to further support it. I also had a sacristy and a pulpit built. Then, I had the whole church painted, the roof, the sanctuary – where there were, you must imagine, four pictures of the four evangelists – and the wooden altar of Our Lady. On top of the main vaulting, a fresco of God the Father appeared, and down each side of this arc the "fifteen mysteries" were portrayed.
With the following conditions, I endowed the church with an income in perpetuity: a sung high mass had to be celebrated during Carnival time every year, with a deacon and subdeacon, and with a catafalque draped in black cloth and surrounded with candles. A dozen low masses had to be said as well. And for vespers, the office for the dead had to be sung. All the masses and offices were to be dedicated to the souls in purgatory. Over and above that, I put funds at the disposal of the church for two hundred masses to be said as soon as news of my death was received; these were to be dedicated to the repose of my soul.
I also left some money so that the pictures could be cleaned every two years and the church whitewashed. I also instituted a monthly low mass for the repose of my soul. I had seen to it that the church was the most beautiful thing on the island, and I saw to it that the masses had equal splendor.
Having finally adorned the church as beautifully and expensively as I could, I asked leave of the duke of Albuquerque to go to Rome. He grudgingly granted me four months to go and come back in. I sailed for Palermo and there embarked on a ship bound for Naples, from where I went by road to Rome.

At Rome, I set about finding ways and means around the rules of service and residence which the Religion insisted one had to fulfill before one could be granted a commandery. I prepared a memorandum and submitted it to his holiness, Urban VIII. He rejected it so quickly that I resolved to speak to him myself about it.
He granted me an audience, and I told him of all the services I had done the church. Then I added, "For whom are the treasures of the church, if they are not for men like me, who have grown old fighting to defend the Catholic faith?"
Then his holiness, being moved by my deeds and my Christian zeal, not only gave me a brief for the grand master exempting me from the legalities of residence and service, but even gave me another brief commanding the Order of St. John to receive me as a knight. I was to enjoy the privileges of seniority and the right to any honors and commanderies normally only accorded to knights of justice, all of whom were of noble blood. Then, over and above that, his holiness conceded a perpetually indulgenced altar to my church on Pantellaria and this privilege was attached to my personal altar for seven years, with no more than a need for three masses to be said yearly for a plenary indulgence.
I was very satisfied, but I did not rest until I had gotten my privileges in writing from the monsignori who were his holiness’s ministers for these matters. They thought his holiness had been overgenerous it was true that there was no precedent for such lavishness – so they hedged around my privileges with a thousand little snags, but they were all brushed aside when the count of Monterey and his wife, the countess, wrote to the monsignori. If it had not been for them, I should have gotten nothing worth having. He was at that time Spanish ambassador extraordinary to Rome.

Having wound up my affairs, I made my plans to go back to Malta and to Palermo to get the pay that had fallen due to me while I was away. I went to beg leave of his excellency the count of Monterey, but he ordered me not to leave Rome, saying that he would have need of me. So I stayed. The count was very pleased that I had obeyed him and ordered his treasurer to pay me thirty escudos a month, which he did with complete punctuality.
After six months, I again asked his excellency leave to go to present my briefs at Malta. He allowed me two months to go and come back in. I left Rome and went to Malta by way of Naples and Sicily. I presented my papal briefs, and the orders were carried out on the spot. I was knighted with all due solemnity. The bull was issued by the grand master, and he gave it to me himself. I was more proud than if I had been born the Infante Carlos. It read, "By reason of his great prowess and fine deeds, Captain Contreras is armed knight. He will have a right to all the commanderies and honors of the order customary to knights of justice." That day, we had a great banquet to celebrate my honors. But next morning, I left for Rome and was back there in no time. My whole journey took only thirty-four days, including my stay in Malta and receiving my knighthood, though I covered nearly nine hundred miles. At Rome, I straightaway went to kiss the hands of the count and countess, and they were delighted to see me back so soon with my new honors.
Eight days later, the count sent me off with two of his big country coaches, each drawn by six horses, to welcome Cardinal Sandoval, Cardinal Espínola, and Cardinal Albornoz. They had just come from Spain by ship and were landing at Palo, twenty miles from Rome.
He instructed me to invite them to come to stay at his house and to tell them that everything had been prepared to accommodate them in a style befitting their dignity. I arrived at Palo and found their eminences staying at the castle. I said my piece, and they were charmed but replied, "These are the dog days, and we couldn’t think of living in Rome in such hot weather. We shall stay in the nearby hills."
Seeing that they had made up their minds, I asked them to reconsider their plans and suggested that they put their service to their king first. Only then did they decide to risk their health. Two hours after dark, I had all the horses harnessed and all their seventeen coaches loaded. My three milord cardinals traveled in one of the count’s coaches, and I, with their chamberlains, in the other. Then to make sure that milord cardinals were not incommoded by the heat of the sun, I led off at such a speed that we reached Rome at dawn.
My cardinals settled into the ambassador’s palace, each with his own apartment, and living with his own chamberlain and servants. They had all the pomp, circumstance, and delicacy that you can imagine.
They were lavishly entertained by the count for a month, while waiting for houses to be gotten ready for them, and they were visited by all the college of cardinals.
Having delivered the cardinals to the count, I returned to my inn, where I still am at the time of this writing, and where I shall stay until I receive new orders from his excellency. My only desire is to serve him well.
There is one thing that I hold to be a miracle. It was that those milords came into Rome on St. Peter’s Day, when the dog days are at their most murderous. Not a single one of their three hundred servants died. As for their eminences, they did not even suffer from a headache. All I can assume is that this talk about dog days is so much folderol. It is true, though, that I recommended them at Palo to stay out of the sun, to keep their windows closed and, above all, to avoid changes of temperature by not moving about too much.
What you have read now is what has happened to me up to today, 11 October 1630. Without a shadow of a doubt, I have forgotten hundreds of things, but how can one, in eleven days, remember and write down all the memories, happenings, and adventures of thirty-three years?
Well, there it is: my life, unadorned and as naked as it came from the hands of God, without flourishes and without fine speeches. It is the truth and that is all I can say. Christ be praised!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Shortly after, the marquis of Cadreyta passed through Rome. He was on his way to Germany, where he was to be Spanish ambassador, though at the time he was still holding the post of ambassador to her serene highness, the queen of Hungary.
The count decided to entertain him and sent me to meet him and to invite him to come and stay as the count’s guest. Unfortunately, he was not carrying his papers of credit from the queen and for that reason his holiness would not have been able to give him an audience in his capacity as an ambassador, so I took him outside Rome to Frascati, the town of easy and luxurious living, where he waited until he could get new orders.
When the marquis got them, he moved into Rome and stayed with the count, where he was entertained royally. He kissed the pope’s foot, made and received all his diplomatic visits, and then left for Ancona, where he joined the queen of Hungary. Together they returned to the imperial court.
Only then did he go to take up his post of ambassador to Germany. His stay in Rome was glittering and extravagant, just what one would expect of such a grandee.
The next thing to happen was that the count sent me off to borrow a galley from the countess of Tarsis, as he wanted to send me and his secretary, Juan Pablo Bonete, to Madrid to deal with some urgent private matters of his. We got the galley, embarked, and in no time we were in Barcelona. I was ordered to make posthaste to Madrid, which I did, and the count’s business was dispatched in as short a time as he could have hoped.
I stayed in Madrid more than two months – that was in 1631 – and I thoroughly enjoyed seeing Lope de Vega’s delightful comedies. Without a doubt, Lope de Vega is the phoenix of Spain, eminent in everything he touches. Anybody who memorizes his works seems to become a dramatic poet himself. He alone would have been enough to bring honor to Spain and to cast his shadow on all the nations of the world.

From Madrid, I went to Naples, where the count of Monterey had just become viceroy. On my arrival, I was ordered to take command of a company of Spanish infantry.
"I have been a captain of infantry four times before, sir," I complained to the count. But he stuck to his guns, and I took the company and we became the viceroy’s bodyguard. Two months later, we were sent to garrison the town of Nola.
One quiet morning – Tuesday, 16 December – at dawn, Mount Nola, which is also called Vesuvius, let off an immense cloud of smoke. As the day advanced, the sun was hidden. There were rumblings, and ashes rained on us. We, at Nola, were just at the bottom of the volcano, four miles away at the most. When the local people saw day turn into night and saw the rain of ashes, they became frightened and began to evacuate.
That night was terrifying. The Day of Judgment may be worse, but I cannot imagine it. It rained ashes, then clods of earth, then balls of fire. It was just like the burning slag that blacksmiths take out of their furnaces. Mostly, these balls of fire were as big as a fist, but some were even bigger. Then the earth shook; twenty-seven houses crumbled that night. I listened to the noise of the cypresses and the orange trees being uprooted and rent in two as though by some gigantic axe. Terror was in all our hearts, and everyone was crying and moaning.
On Wednesday, there was scarcely any daylight and we had to go about with candles. I scoured the countryside with a squadron of soldiers and found some flour. I had seven loads brought back to Nola and set the men baking bread to feed those who were homeless or who had left their homes for fear of their collapsing.
There were two convents of nuns there, who would not leave, although the vicar had given them permission to do so before he himself left. These two convents collapsed, but with no harm to the nuns, as they were in the body of the church praying to God. Meanwhile, my troops made up their minds to mutiny. They decided to come to me and to force me to leave Nola, as the lava was approaching us. On their way to visit me, I met them all, by chance, on the road. When I came up to them I said, "Where are you off to, gentlemen?"
"Sir..." said one of them, but before he could say any more, I said, "Gentlemen, anyone who wants to leave may. As for myself, I shall not leave till my heels are burnt. When that time comes. since our flag isn’t heavy, I’ll carry it myself."
No one said a word.
That day, we spent half in the dark, half in twilight. We shall never know all the miseries that went on. Many had not fled. Women with their hair and clothes awry strayed aimlessly and children were lost, not knowing where next to go. Here, two houses collapsed, there another caught fire. Then night fell. The next morning, it was impossible to escape, because of the hail of ashes. The volcano went on burning continuously, and the rain of cinders did not let up. Then streams of lava started pouring down the mountainside. The noise alone was enough to strike terror in everyone. One of the streams was coming toward Nola, so I chose thirty men, some my soldiers, others locals, and with picks and shovels we dug a trench and turned the lava stream against two little villages. The lava stream carried these hamlets away and all the cattle, just like a swarm of ants moving a house. We could not save anything.
While I was watching this happen, I could not help thinking that if I had left when my soldiers had wanted me to the town of Nola would have been drowned in lava.
On Friday, God gave us rain. It was a mixture of cinders and water, which made a sort of cement which was so hard that one could not even break it with a pickax. Real rain, instead of a rain of burning cinders, gave us a little encouragement.
On the Saturday, the church’s walls cracked. Then the barracks collapsed. No one was hurt, as all the soldiers preferred to risk the cinders than trust the barracks, but an earthquake shook everything around like water sluiced from side to side in one’s mouth.
On the Sunday, we got orders from the count. He had believed us all to be dead, as he had not been able to get word through.. However, he ordered us to retire to Capua.
I was very unhappy about leaving the nuns, as I felt sure they would lose their courage when they saw me go. But it was advisable for me to obey orders because if there were any serious mishaps after I had been told to retire the blame would have been thrown on my shoulders.
I left with nothing more than what I was wearing. Even if I had wanted to take a trunk, there was no way of carrying it.
We arrived at Cápua looking such a sight that people swore we looked like men coming back from working in hell. Most of us were without shoes, and our clothes and skins were half-burnt. In a week there, we put ourselves to rights and then we celebrated Christmas happily, although we knew that Vesuvius was still pouring out its lava.
After a week, we got orders from the count to go and stay in Casales, a town close by. While we were there, we got back some of the things we had lost at Nola. I myself got back two chests full of clothes, which was all that was left of my possessions, but it was a miracle that I even got those.
At Casales, I discovered one of the wickedest tricks in the world being played against the poor people of the town. This is how it worked.
The rich people who had big houses and could afford to have troops billeted on them had one of their sons take deacon’s orders in the church. Then, they would make over all their possessions into his name and, in that way, were relieved of the duty of having to accept troops. The archbishop took their side, as they helped maintain him. I explained the trickery to the bishop, and he replied, "It’s within the law, you know."
I got indignant and ordered my men out of the houses of the poor and into the houses of the rich. I asked each house, "Which room belongs to the man in orders?"
"That one," they would reply.
"Respect it like the Day of the Lord," I would say to my men, "and these others, who lives in them?"
"Sir," they would reply, "his father, his mother, his sisters, and his brothers."
Once they had admitted that, I used to billet three or four soldiers on them.
These rich people went off to complain to the archbishop, and I received a letter from him saying, "Be careful what you do, or you will be excommunicated."
When I read it. I laughed out loud. Then one of these savage clerics – they were called savage in those parts because they were only in minor orders and were often married – got on his mare to go and tell the archbishop how his letter had been received. One of my soldiers, seeing him make off, grabbed the horse’s bridle and reins and said to him, "You wait here until I have spoken to the captain."
But the mare did not understand the reins any better than her master understood Latin and she reared up and threw the cleric on the ground. However, shaken as he was, he went and laid his complaint in front of the archbishop, who wrote back to me, "You are excommunicated by virtue of chapter quisquis pariente del diablo [7]."
"You, too, be careful what you do," I replied in a message to him. "I don’t understand this quisquis business, and, as for being any relative of the devil, I am not. Nor is he anywhere in my family tree. Now you beware, if I get myself excommunicated no one will be safe from me unless he is on the moon. For that very purpose, God gave me ten fingers and five hundred Spanish veterans."
The archbishop received my letter, but he did not reply to it. What he did do, however, was to write to those who had complained to him advising them to put the case to the viceroy, as he himself was also doing, and to ask the viceroy to have me removed as there seemed to be nothing else they could do.
They set to work with a will, but during the forty days while they waited for my removal, I made the rich pay up and none of the poor suffered.

After these forty days, I was appointed governor of Aquila and given orders to march there immediately with my troops. Aquila was one of the largest cities in the kingdom of Naples. In my orders, I was told that the bishop was no longer respected there and that the people were threatening to kill him. I was told to punish the offenders.
This city of Aquila was ill-disciplined. The Aquilans scarcely acknowledged the kingdom, mainly because it was on the borders of Romagna, and because it was as far from Naples as it could be. On 9 February, I set out. We crossed the Five Mile Plain through three feet of snow. I had a fine time keeping the soldiers going.
I took all my five hundred hard-bitten Spaniards with me, and we entered the town in skirmishing order. I announced myself civil governor and military governor and then arrested as many of the rebels as I could, before they fled.
I billeted my buccaneers in the houses of the rebels, which was a most effective plan. I proclaimed that no one could enter or leave the town carrying firearms. Since these Aquilans carried guns as naturally as they wore hats, it was a miracle that they all obeyed me. But it may have been something to do with my billeting system.
Then, one day, six servants of the count of Claramonte arrived at the Naples gate well armed with muskets and pistols. The count was then the governor of the province. These men all had very long hair – what we called a Nazarene haircut – and it was the style adopted by all the brigands and highwaymen in those parts. The guard at the gate told them that they could not enter the city without the military governor’s permission.
"Military governor?" they said. "Never heard of such a person." My guard at the Naples gate consisted of only four men, and, since two of them were having their dinner, my long-haired friends forced their way into the town and swaggered around the marketplace not expecting any more harm to be done to them than in the past.
When all this was reported to me, I ordered all the city’s gates to be closed and, with eight soldiers, went out to arrest them. I found them trying to look as innocent as lambs. When I attacked them, they fought back, but I surrounded them and captured them with the loss of only one of my men wounded.
I then tried and condemned these ruffians. I gave them two hours’ respite and then carried out the sentence I had given them. It was that their hair should be cut off and for evermore they were to wear it short, and that they were each to receive two hundred lashes of the whip seated on a donkey, in the old Spanish style.
This punishment was carried out very well by the executioner, although neither he nor anyone in Aquila had ever seen or done anything like it before. I then had these ruffians taken off their donkeys and, in the way I used to do it in the galleys, had them washed in saltwater and vinegar. The next day, I sent them off to Naples to serve six years as galley-slaves.
When the news of my summary justice reached the governor of the province, he could not believe his ears. He had the news verified and then wrote me, "By virtue of what authority have you done this?"
"I have condemned these men," I replied, "in my capacity as military governor."
"I am the only governor in this province," he wrote me. "Go and complain to the count of Monterey," I replied. "He gave me my orders."
This annoyed him, and he decided to come to Aquila to arrest me. He assembled three hundred cavalry and a few infantry, but when I got warning I wrote him, "Will your Lordship take great care not to encourage the whole country to rebel? It is already mutinous, and it was to put down these rebels that I was sent here. I beg you as a minister of the crown not to start up a shameful civil war without first referring to the viceroy, the count of Monterey. If I have misbehaved, he will punish me."
But he paid no attention to my letter and went on his same course. When I got the next reports from my spies, I saw that it was going to be a very serious matter. So I picked one hundrof my five hundred men, provisioned them well with gunpowder, shot, and fuses and put two pistols in my charger’s saddle holsters.
I took with me also two thousand escudos in doubloons for safety’s sake and went to meet the count. I stopped overnight at a village, and from there I wrote him a letter in which I said, "Since you treat the king’s service so lightly, go your own road. But take a good horse, for, if I catch you, I swear by Christ I will have you whipped like the others."
I would have done it, and much better than I described it to him, too. I was sure I could beat his rabble of soldiers and once done, I would have ridden off to Rome and then to Milan and Flanders, where nothing would have been heard of the business. As it was, it was easy enough for me to escape to the papal states, which were only a six-hour ride away.
However, the Claramonte read my letter and sent it to the viceroy. He retreated to his own lands and I to mine.
The next day, I heard that there was a highwayman ranging the countryside, robbing the farmers and the convents. That day, I came to the little village where he was. I found him sleeping, thinking himself as safe as the king in Madrid. I gave him a rousing awakening, and he leapt out of his bed and through the window into the garden. But my troops jumped as well as he did, and they caught him. We tied him up and took him back to Aquila. The Aquilans were astonished to see him caught at last, as they thought that there was no one who would risk his neck trying to capture him. I locked him up in the castle, tried him, condemned him to death, and gave him two days of grace.
During these two days, I had a scaffold built in the marketplace and a large executing sword forged. The Aquilans scoffed when they saw the scaffolding go up and laughed when they were told for whom it was intended. But they had great big round eyes when they saw him without his head five days later at three o’clock in the afternoon.
I paid the executioner ten escudos and gave him one of my suits. But he was an unpractised executioner. He was rather like those doctors who learn their surgery in hospitals at the expense of innocent people – not that the highwayman was innocent, he was quite the opposite. He was called Jácomo Ribera, a native of Aquila, and everybody knew him, or at least had heard his name.

I was at Aquila for Easter Day. And, at that time, the councillors and the officials who dealt with fixing the market prices were very angry with me as I was making their speculations difficult. On Holy Thursday, I ordered them to communicate as I was doing, but out of sheer malice they refused. Then, to annoy me further they would not attend the Easter Sunday mass with me in their official capacities but stayed in the city council chambers.
Easter Sunday came, and the bishop celebrated a pontifical high mass. I waited for the councillors until the mass started and then went in to take my seat along with my clerk. This clerk, by the way, would never sign any of the warrants for the punishment that I have already told you about. But I was not alarmed about it, as he was a local man and had to stay on when I had gone.
I must explain a custom of Aquila. There were five councillors and each had two red-cloaked attendants, paid for out of the city’s funds. No councillor would leave his house or go anywhere, even if it were a matter of life or death, without his attendants. When I saw myself alone at this pontifical high mass, I knew that these rogues were up to their tricks. I called my sergeant to my seat and said, "Go and arrest all the councillors’ attendants, and in each of the councillor’s houses billet six soldiers, with orders to eat everything they can find in the house and in the kitchen. They are to respect the women but not leave the houses until further orders."
This order was carried out most enthusiastically by my Spaniards, who had no good dinner to look forward to in their present lodgings.
When the councillors heard that I had arrested all their red-cloaked attendants, they were furious, but could not go out into the streets. They sent me messages even by the hand of gentlemen of the town, but I always replied, "Come and see me yourselves."
But they just stayed where they were, which was where the sergeant had arrested their attendants.
The bishop begged me to order my soldiers out of the houses and to release the attendants so that the councillors could go home. I agreed to the first request on the condition that each soldier was given three testoons, which was equal to nine reales . The councillors paid up in a second. By God, they would have paid up three hundred ducats not to have my soldiers living with them. I fear they did not love us. But, for all that, these soldiers and their friends – with their nine reales and a huge dinner – had a better Easter than the councillors, who spent it where their servants were arrested. They stayed there like that, so as not to break the city’s custom and so as not to lose the privilege of having attendants.
The bishop pressed me to free the red-cloaked attendants so that the councillors could go home. My reply to him was, "I only arrested their men so that there should be no embarrassment about precedence and about who should carry my cushion in the church. However, if each councillor would kindly pay a ducat to the Convent of Penitents, I shall be pleased to free their attendants.
They paid up like lightning so as to get out of the sort of magic circle they were in. It was nothing less; they were free but could not move a step.
I had a few other little contretemps with these councillors. They raised the price of meat, fish, and bread to far too high a price, and arranged that the merchants supply their households free with meat and fish, while the baker made a cash payment to them.
When I learned about this game, I asked them to invite me to their next tax and price-fixing meeting, and they did so. When they were deciding on the prices, I said, "But gentlemen, don’t you think it a pity to fix the prices so low? These things are worth more, and if prices are higher there will be much more on sale in the markets."
They saw the heavens opening and pushed the tax and the prices up higher and higher. The figures were finally fixed, and then I said to them, "My household is large, but as a knight of Malta, a captain of infantry, and as a military governor and civil governor, I am exempt from these taxes. Nevertheless, I want to be the first to pay them. And you, gentlemen, must buy provisions in proportion to the size of your households and pay cash, just as I shall."
I then turned to the shopkeepers who were there and said, "I swear by God that if you make a single present of an ounce of anything to any of these gentlemen, I shall have you flogged." The shopkeepers, knowing my reputation, realized that I was in earnest and submitted.
One of the councillors then said, "But, sir, we never eat fish in our house."
"That doesn’t matter a bit," I said, "I want you to eat fish, and I want you to enjoy the fixed prices and the taxes as I and all the poor people of the town do."
The end of that was that the prices all came down by over a half on everything.
To go back to our governor, the Claramonte, he had dispatched the letter I had written him to the count of Monterey. The viceroy decided on that evidence, and the complaints of the councillors at Aquila, to relieve me of my governorship. But both the Claramonte and I were sacked on the same day. Monterey gave me, before my departure from Aquila, the command of a squadron of heavy cavalry, but to the Claramonte he gave nothing at all. And so ended my governorship of Aquila, which lasted three months and seven days.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I left Aquila to take command of my squadron of cavalry at Naples. I found it encamped at Cápua, but had to order them down to Naples to have them officially handed over to me by the general of cavalry, Don Gaspar de Acevedo.
On the same day that the general handed the squadron over to me in the presence of Quartermaster Concubilete, a complete check of the horses was made. The squadron had previously been commanded by Don Hector Piñatelo, who had just been promoted to the post of adjutant to Don Gaspar, and who was also present at this handing over.
When the cavalrymen were given back their horses after the inventory, one of them shouted, "My horse has been changed!"
Then many others shouted the same thing. So I went up to Don Hector Piñatelo and said, "Your horse belongs to the company. And the troopers say that your grace has left us a lot of tired horses and kept the best ones for himself."
"It is quite untrue," he replied, "I have not taken a single horse."
Among Italians, such a remark as his ‘It is quite untrue’ was not taken as an insult, but I had to maintain my reputation in front of my Spanish troops. I raised my hand, took hold of his pointed beard, and tugged it hard.
Don Hector Piñatelo dropped his cane and drew his sword in a flash. I was not slow in drawing mine either. We fought, but no blood was drawn, as the crowd closed in and we could not get at each other properly. One unfortunate German in the viceroy’s bodyguard paid the piper. He might as well have had the pleasure of tugging Piñatelo’s beard, as he got a slash across the cheek by mistake.
Don Gaspar de Acevedo stopped the fight, and we were put under house arrest for three days. When the count had gotten the reports of the prince of Asculi’s and the colonel, he ordered us to come to his antechamber to make friends again. Don Hector Piñatelo had the prince of La Rochela, and I, Don Gaspar de Acevedo as witnesses for this reconciliation. After that, we were both still very wary of each other, or, as the buccaneers say, "We kept our eyes peeled."
So I became a cavalry captain. This brought me new things to think about. The count instructed me to arrange a parade of all the Spanish and Italian cavalry and infantry in the kingdom of Naples. The whole cavalry, including the recent levies, was more than 2,500 horsemen. We had so many infantrymen that we did not need to parade the irregular levies. The 2,700 Spaniards and the 8,000 Italians – all regulars – made a fine enough sight by themselves, every one of them being a picked man.
What a grand sight we made that day! Even I, a poor man, wore the count’s colors. I had two trumpeters and four attendants, all dressed in silver-braided scarlet uniforms, with gilded swords, plumes, and cloaks to match. I had five horses, two of them having silver-braided coverings, all of them with saddle holsters and ornate pistols in them. We were displaying our colors of azure blue with silver flames. I was wearing chamois boots braided with silver lace and collars and cuffs in the same style.
On my helmet, I had a mountain of blue, green, and white plumes and on my shoulders a gold-embroidered cloak that was so big it would have done as a bedspread.
Like this, then, we entered the main square of Naples—myself at the head, followed by my sergeant major and standard and eighty well-armed cavalrymen, wearing scarlet cloaks. My brother, who was my lieutenant, brought up the rear. It was magnificent. I will leave you to imagine the applause we received.
Myself and all the other captains rode or marched our companies past the palace where the count of Monterey with their eminences Cardinals Sabeli and Sandoval were watching. From another balcony, the countess of Monterey and her ladyship the marchioness of Monterroso, with their ladies-in-waiting, were also watching.
As each squadron of cavalry passed the count, it made a caracole and dipped its flags; the infantry just made their salute by lowering their standard. Then we all passed on toward the castle, where we paraded in a body.
After that, we had a sham battle. The skirmish between the infantry and the cavalry was a thing worth seeing. By this time, their excellencies were going to the Castel Nuovo with the cardinals, and we gave them a full artillery salute, which was so realistically warlike that one could scarcely believe there were no cannonballs.
But how could anything go wrong? Our viceroy seemed to know precisely how and when everything should be done, just as though he were the oldest of old campaigners.
Believe me, that is not adulation. I have known dozens of princes, but never one like the count.
For sheer grandeur, take his ambassadorship in Rome in 1628. The three cardinals, Sandoval, Espínola and Albornoz, a brother of the count of Elda, who later was viceroy of Sardinia, and a brother of the count of Tavara, who became governor of Sicily. stayed with him. Each had his own apartment and his own guests, but the household was never for a moment disordered. There seemed to be an infinite number of chefs and butlers who could never be defeated – and the cutlery never ran out!
Every guest had a waiter and a valet given him, and there was always a carriage whenever anyone wanted one. The count ran his house of thirty-two rooms like that, summer and winter, without borrowing as much as a spoon from anyone.
The greatest celebration he ever gave was in October 1629, on the occasion of the birth of the royal prince—may God protect him. It was such a festa that even today the Romans and such foreigners as were in Rome at the time still talk about it. There was theater, jousting, fireworks, and fountains of wine. The count gave away alms to all the hospitals, and every evening for three days handfuls of gold and silver were thrown out into the streets of Rome. And though the Romans did not like us, when faced with such munificence and spectacle they all shouted, "Viva Espana!"
And who in Rome but the count had kept as many as four captains on full pay – thirty escudos a month – out of his own i pocket and paid up regularly?
It was the count’s treasurer Gaspar de Rosales who dealt with that sort of thing. He never gave anyone reason to grumble to his boss. Eventually, Gaspar de Rosales became secretary of state and of war at Naples when the count of Monterey became viceroy there. It certainly was well deserved. Gaspar de Rosales was a hardworking and honest man. I have often noticed that a man succeeds by having good servants and if he has misfortunes, it is because he has bad ones.
And then again, what viceroy has there ever been, who has taken so much trouble to seek out men of merit, who before he took them up, were stuck in some corner of a castle, without money and without recognition? I know plenty of cases.
What other viceroy has ever sent to Milan, in only fifteen months, two squadrons of Italian infantry of three thousand men each and as much as 700,000 ducats? And to Spain six thousand infantry and a thousand horses in twenty-four galleons? The infantry he sent to Spain under the command of the marquis of Campo Lataro and the cavalry under the prince of La Rochela. And as a special gift for his majesty, and his highness the infante cardinal, the viceroy sent at the same time as the six thousand infantry, twenty-four fine horses, with embroidered saddles and bridles and on each horse’s back a brocade coverlet reaching nearly to the ground. Each, too, had pistols, which could not be bought for any price, in the saddle holsters.
And as for madame the countess, she was a great lady. She spent her days in the various hospitals for women, serving the unfortunates with her own hands and bringing them food from the palace. I have seen it and I know. She also founded a convent for repentant Spanish women as well as maintaining many other charities. She was a woman who never turned anyone away who asked her to intercede for them.
I do not think I have exaggerated. On the contrary, I feel I have said less than I might and I swear by this cross that at the time of this writing, 4 February 1633, though I am in Palermo and in disgrace, as I shall soon explain, despite my position I consider it to be a greater honor to be their servant than to serve anyone else, as I shall never be ungrateful for all their goodwill, and for all the bread I have broken under their roof.
To return to my story about the parade in Naples on 20 June 1632. After the mock battle we went home worn out and sweating. The next day, I got orders to man the coastline with all the cavalry we had. I had received news that a Turkish battle fleet was in the offing. I led off five hundred horses to the principality of Citra and took up positions between Eboli and Agropoli, where we stayed until August of that same year, 1632.
Even in the dog days, it was so cold there that one had to sleep under two blankets. And so, by day, we used to keep warm skirmishing among ourselves and competing at picking up a ring on the end of our lances.

In the company, there was a big four-year-old charger which was thoroughly vicious. He had already lamed four soldiers. To try to shoe him, we used to tie all his four legs, but once on the ground he would get so ferocious he would break the ropes however thick. So I gave orders that he was to be given as a present to the Franciscan monastery.
The guardian there said. "If the captain is giving us this horse as a present, would he also give us a contract proving it is a gift, so that we may sell it."
That night, the horse was so wild that no one even dared to go near enough to give it water to drink. The next day, I made out the contract and delivered it myself. When I got there, the guardian said to me, "Señor, I very much fear that this horse will kill one of the friars."
Then, he went off with the contract to the monastery. The next day, however, he came to me and said, "Señor, the horse is keeping quiet and seems to be much less fiery."
What happened was that within a week the horse became as tame as an old donkey, and he was harnessed up with a mare at the monastery and they worked side by side most happily and he forgot his masculine past. It was quite astonishing.

I had another horse called Colona and one day when we were off for our tilting and horseplay, as we went every day to do in the mall by the Franciscan monastery, I mounted her. She was a good-tempered mare, and I had many times before played my games on her. But that day, she would not move an inch. I got angry and spurred her. She got under way for four paces, then stopped again. I turned her back and tried again, but she did not want to go anywhere very much, and if she had to go, she preferred to go sideways.
Some of my soldiers said, "Dismount, sir, she won’t run today." Then one of them added, "Give her to me, sir, I’ll make her run and I’ll break her of her little vices."
I dismounted and the soldier got on. Hardly was he in the saddle when the mare careered off straight toward a stone wall and hit it full tilt, killing both horse and rider. I was stricken with horror.
"What was it that had saved me? Was it the gift of the horse to the Franciscans? Was it the altar I had built to have masses said at for my soul in purgatory? Was it the fact that my altar was a privileged one, by order of the pope? God alone knows why I was not killed. I give thanks for this grace and for all the others which He grants me every day.

I returned to Naples with my company and we went into quarters by the Maddalena Bridge, from where every night I used to take out twenty horsemen and patrol south of Naples to Torre del Greco. The other companies did the same north of the town toward Pozzuoli.
I had very good horses in the company, but the men were not as good as their horses, so the count agreed with me that they should be disbanded and the company raised again. His excellency then made me the generous offer of the governorship of Pescara, one of the best jobs in the kingdom. I kissed his hand for the favor and waited in Naples patiently for a whole month for my orders.
Then one day his secretary, Rosales, came to tell me that the count wanted me to refit two little galleons and a fleet tender. which were in port, and go to the Levant to do a little piracy for him. At that time, my brother was with me. He had done twenty years military service in Italy and in the royal fleet. He had started as a soldier, risen to sergeant and sergeant major, and had spent three years on special service with eight escudos extra pay. At this time, he had just been discharged with the rank of lieutenant of heavy cavalry.
"Señor," I said to the count’s secretary, "I will do what the count wants me to do, as long as the count provides for my brother. At least let him hold my post in Pescara until I return."
"Impossible," he replied, "There must be a captain for the post."
Then I asked him if I could see the count myself and ask him to give my brother the command of the fleet tender. But he would not agree. So next I suggested that my brother raise a company of the adventurers and flotsam of the waterfront and sail with me in that capacity. To that he agreed. Then I started to refit and store the ships. But when it was half done, I said to the secretary, "Don’t make a monkey of me or I won’t sail on this expedition. I swear by God I won’t if this business is not settled. Tell the count what I say."
No word was heard, until one night when the secretary came to me and said, "The count will not give your brother any commission, but you are both to sail on this cruise together."
I went home to think things ont. I had no post in Naples and no pay from the king (nor had my brother), despite the fact that my brother had said to the count, "I have served well as everyone knows and your grace has helped many men, but I have been unable to get any promotion and the world will think that I am no good."
And he was quite justified in what he said. So I collected together my belongings and went to stay at the monastery of the Most Holy Trinity.
There, I wrote a letter to the secretary, which read something like this, "You may be surprised that I have been so insistent on my brother being given a post, but if I went on your expedition and died, my brother would be the only one left as head of a family of orphans and nephews and nieces. You have taken away my last hope this evening and I have therefore decided to refuse the count’s orders. You may tell the count that I have retired to this monastery to reconsider how to make a living and, of course, in the fear that his excellency might out of fury throw me into the castle dungeons. I am willing to carry out his orders even now provided my brother is made captain. He deserves it, and the count has in any case already promised it once. Then I will come out of this monastery and go to sea and do my duty well."
The secretary was shocked when he realized that I was not going to do as I was told. He wrote me a wheedling letter, but I firmly answered that I would not move an inch without his agreement to my conditions.
I then asked the count for leave for myself, my brother, and my nephew to quit Naples, to which he replied, "A ticket of leave is quite unnecessary. You are a knight of Malta, and not in the pay or employ of this kingdom. All you need is a bill of health."
I sent word back saying, "I am not the sort of man who leaves a place where he has been employed without at least a letter giving me permission to go. And if your excellency will not give me one I shall stay here until I die or until your excellency is promoted to a higher command."
Only then did the count dictate and sign with his own hand excellent references giving us permission to go, me to Malta, my brother to Spain, and my nephew to Sicily. They were all sent to me at the monastery.
Next day, I received a letter from the secretary, but it came from much higher quarters really, asking me to write some instructions on what the ships should do when they got to the Levant. While the messenger waited, I wrote out a detailed instruction, adding at the end, "Sir, I am no angel, and I can err. The navigator’s advice should be asked, and if it seems to be a good plan, follow it; if not, don’t. What I have written is what I myself intended to do had I not the ill luck to have brothers."
Shortly thereafter, I packed my bags, though everyone, even the palace ministers, said to me, "Wait a little."
I decided against their advice but called to see Secretary Rosales, with whom I spent a long time. He told me that I had made a grave error. We agreed to meet the next evening, but I could see no good coming from it. In fact I feared the opposite. At midnight, then, I went aboard a felucca with my brother and my nephew with such goods as I possessed, and we sailed from Naples that night, 20 December.
I forgot to tell you that my retreat into the monastery started a rumor that I had become a monk. This was, of course, impossible, as I had already taken my vows in the Order of St. John. It was even in the Gazette, and I got a letter from Malta saying that news had reached there that I was a Capuchin. It was not surprising that such a story got abroad, as there were some people in Naples who swore they had seen me celebrating mass. They did not know that I did not understand a word of Latin.
However, I passed a penitential two months in that monastery, with four masses in the morning, and vespers in the evening, and for lunch and dinner a chicken and excellent old wine and everything that went with it.

It was a rough night when we left Naples, but at dawn we found ourselves off Vietri – sixty miles from Naples. We crossed the Gulf of Salerno and rounded Cape Palinuro. We were not allowed ashore there because of some epidemic. We sailed on to Paola, where I stayed two days, visiting the birthplace of St. Francis of Paola. From there, we went on south to Pizzo, where we met a felucca bound for Naples. Aboard her was a young Spanish lady whom I knew. She said she was frightened of being alone, so we dined that night together. She also asked me to sleep in her room. I did so, but of course in another bed.
During the night, I got up to make water, and, while I was feeling my way back to my bed in the dark, I slipped and fell into the Spanish lady’s bed. She pretended to be asleep, but she was wide awake and very beautiful. I took my opportunity, and she, all the time, pretended to be asleep. When it was over, she woke up and said, "What have you done?"
"Touch there and you will soon find out," I said.
She did so and said, "What a wicked old man you are, by Jesus!" "Yes, no doubt," I replied, "and I am sure you would have preferred a younger man to look at in the morning."
But for all that, even though I am an old man, I met her thrust for thrust and, by God, she was worth the trouble.
In the morning, we watered the feluccas and our ships parted company. That evening, we reached Tropea, but I did not stay the night there, as I wanted to get to Messina for Christmas Eve.
We spent Christmas at an inn in Messina. There was a great deal of woman flesh there, but since it was a vigil, we all kept quiet, me especially, as I had had my oats.
We heard mass, in fact several masses, and then sailed. But as we could not manage to double the lighthouse cape, we slept that night in Messina.
We again took to the sea and struggled on as far as Milazzo, where we stayed that night and the next day as well because of bad weather. The captain at arms there made me a present of chickens, wine, and a goat, which filled up my store cupboard. We had a party at an inn, where there was no shortage of either boy or girl devils.
We left Milazzo and without touching land got as far as Termini, where we found excellent lodgings. We slept there and sailed in the morning. At midday, we reached Palermo.
I found dozens of old friends, and so I decided to set up house there. But before I did anything about it, I went to see the duke of Alcalá, the viceroy of the kingdom of Sicily.
I informed him of my arrival, which he knew about already. and asked him for the thirty escudos pay that was owing to me. He gave orders that I was to be paid at once.
My brother submitted a memorandum asking his excellency, in consideration of his services, for a captaincy and the right to raise a company. There were not many troops in Sicily at that time. I offered to put up five hundred ducats, which was the usual sum paid to a captain for his expenses in raising a company, and so save the viceroy the expense, but the reply was that there would have to be an inquiry into what should be done.
This ended in my brother being recommended to go to Flanders and being put on a Catalan ship, loaded with biscuits and bound for Genoa. I gave him two hundred golden escudos and clothes, and I paid for his passage and food. I gave him my blessing and said, "Go to Flanders, my boy, and you will get a captaincy there. You have done good service. You are well equipped, you have a letter of recommendation and money in your pocket. May God be with you."
So in God’s keeping he sailed. I stayed here until today, 4 February 1633, when I am writing this. If God grants me longer life and if anything of interest happens, I shall add it to this story.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

It was in 1633 that my brother went to Flanders, as I have described, and I stayed on in Palermo. His excellency the duke of Alcalá, viceroy of Sicily, sent for me. I went to the palace, and he said, "What has been happening between you and Monterey?"
"Nothing." I replied. "He has given me leave to go to Malta." He pressed me with questions, but I would not tell him anything of what had happened at Naples. At the end of the interview, I went down to the palace guardroom. There the captains badgered me immediately to find out the news.
"Now leave the count alone," I said, "he may be nearly a dwarf, but he is the greatest grandee of the lot."
That was soon reported to the duke, who was very annoyed. He had his secretary call me and say, "Pay Don Jerónimo de Castro the two hundred escudos you owe him."
This Jerónimo de Castro was in the room at the time, and I said to the secretary, "Señor, it is perfectly true that this gentleman gave me two hundred escudos. He gave them to me to get a papal brief that he wanted to submit to the grand master. The fact that the grand master would not accept it was no fault of mine. I fulfilled my part of the bargain in getting the brief."
"That is no excuse," replied the secretary. "I want the money here in an hour or you will be thrown into prison."
Seeing that he meant what he said, I replied, "Very well, send someone with me to carry this money and I will be back within the hour."
I went off under guard, and the money was brought back in a little bag. I handed it to the secretary, saying, "There you are. Give the money to the viceroy for any little whim he needs to satisfy, but not to Don Jerónimo de Castro."
Then I went back to my lodging pondering the ways of the world. Two days later, I received a visit from a sergeant major, who announced to me, "His excellency desires to settle his accounts with you and the rights you say you have to payment here."
"I have no pay here," I replied. "I have a ticket of leave from the count of Monterey, and I am on my way to Malta." After that brush, I decided to see the collector of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, and he spoke to the viceroy on my behalf and I was at last left alone.
After twenty days, I received letters and certificates from the Order in Malta, settling on me the estates and commandery of San Juan de Puente de Orbi. After two more months in Palermo, I found two Genoese galleys that were going to Spain, carrying a bishop, so I said to the captain, "I will come with you through Naples, provided you don’t tell the count of Monterey."
He agreed immediately to say condition, but the first thing he did was to send the count word that I was aboard. The count already knew by the Gazettes that I had been in Sicily.
Secretary Rosales then sent aboard a curt note, saying, "The count knows you are here. Come to dinner as I have a few words to say to you."
I could not dodge it, so I went ashore to the palace where I met Rosales. I showed him the certificates that gave me my commandery in Spain. He was astonished and rushed up to tell the count.
When the count heard the news, he said, "He has got something there which stops me being angry with him anymore. Find out more about it, by God, and make him stay with us here."
We dined, and they talked and talked at me so that I had to stay on. The two galleys went on to Gaeta, where they were to join up with some others and were to sail in company with them to Genoa.
The secretary gave me a letter from the count to deliver to the marchioness of Charela at Gaeta, which I did. The next day, when the cannon fired for the departure of the assembled galleys, the governor of Gaeta sent out an armed brigantine to take me aboard and back to Naples. But as my luggage was at the bottom of the hold and could not possibly be gotten out, I was able to refuse politely.
We made a good trip to Genoa, from where I went on home to Spain after a short stay.

In a few days, we were in Barcelona and from there I went to Madrid. I stayed with secretary Juan Ruiz de Contreras, who was father of Don Fernando, who is today so important in the government. He entertained me regally, and I set out staking my claims. The first thing I did was to take possession of my commandery. On my return from León, where the commandery was, I met my brother, who was looking for a job and asking for the money still due to him when he was discharged in Flanders.
The council saw the justness of his case and gave him two hundred escudos and a letter of recommendation to Secretary Rojas telling him to give my brother a company. Rojas, in turn, wrote a letter to Secretary Pedro de Arce telling him of the council’s wishes. Pedro de Arce appealed against it and dragged the affair out as long as he could, saying to the councillors of state that if I had been a cavalry captain it must have been a very strange cavalry squadron I had had. He could not believe me, and therefore my brother could not have his promotion.
I heard all about this after a few days and this is how. As my brother seemed to be waiting a long time for his commission to come through, I went to see the marquis of Santa Cruz, who was a member of the Council of State. I pressed him hard for an explanation, and at last he said, "How can you expect us to give your brother a company? Pedro de Arce tells us that if you were a cavalry captain, the post must have been come by dishonestly."
I turned on my heel without saying a word and went home, not even bothering to have my dinner. I got out my cavalry captain’s commission, which showed that I had had a squadron of five hundred men, my discharge, and my ticket of leave and went back to see the marquis as fast as I could. I was announced and said, "I beg your excellency to hear me out. Twenty years ago, by the postern gate of San Martin, a certain lady called me. It was in the dead of night. I went up to her apartment, and we quickly found a topic of conversation to chat about. Then there was a knock at the door.
"’Hide yourself,’ she said. ’It is Pedro de Arce, but he won’t stay long.’
"I’m not hiding for anybody,’ I said. ’Let him in.’
"The woman, although she was afraid, gave orders for the door to be opened. Then up the stairs came Pedro with his sword and shield, looking as green as a lettuce. He was, at that time, serving in the Council of War. When he saw me, he asked, ’What are you doing here?’
This lady is asking me some news of a friend of hers." I replied.
"But before I could finish, he protected himself with his buckler and drew his sword. I got on my guard, too, and gave him such a wallop that he fell down the stairs – sword, shield, and all –shrieking. ’You’ve killed me!"
"However, he was not even wounded. I took advantage of the ensuing riot to go my way with the grace of God. He was carried off to his lodgings half-dead from the fall. And since then he has always looked on me with a jaundiced eye. So, if your excellency will now look at this commission, this discharge, and this ticket of leave, he will be convinced that Pedro de Arce was lying out of sheer spite. I was a cavalry captain for seven months and three days."

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DISCURSO DE MI VIDA

LIBRO PRIMERO

Nací en la muy noble villa de Madrid a 6 de Enero de 1582. Fui bautizado en la
parroquia de San Miguel; fueron mis padrinos Alonso de Roa y María de Roa, hermano
y hermana de mi madre. Mis padres se llamaron Gabriel Guillén y Juana de Roa y
Contreras; quise tomar él apellido de mi madre andando sirviendo al Rey como
muchacho, y cuando caí en el error que había hecho no lo pude remediar, porque en los
papeles de mis servicios iba el Contreras, con que he pasado hasta hoy, y por tal nombre
soy conocido, no obstante que en el bautismo me llamaron Alonso de Guillén, y yo me
llamo Alonso de Contreras. Fueron mis padres cristianos viejos, sin raza de moros ni
judíos, ni penitenciados por el Santo Oficio como se verá en el discurso adelante desta
relación, fueron pobres y vivieron casados como lo manda la Santa Madre Iglesia
veinticuatro años, en los cuales tuvieron dieciséis hijos, y cuando murió mi padre
quedaron ocho; seis hombres y dos hembras y yo era el mayor de todos. En el tiempo
que murió mi padré yo andaba a la escuela y escribía de ocho ringlones; y en este
tiempo se hizó en Madrid una tela para justar a un lado de la puente segoviana, donde
se ponían tiendas de campaña, y como cosa nueva iba todo el lugar a verlo; juntéme con
otro muchacho, hijo de un alguacil de Corte que se llamaba Salvador Moreno, y fuimos
a ver la justa faltando de la escuela, y a otro dia cuando fui a ella, me dijo el maeso que
subiese arriba a desatacar a otro muchacho, que me tenía por valiente; subí con mucho
gusto y el maeso tras mi, y echando una trampa me mando desatacar a mí y con un
azote de pergamino me dio hasta que me sacó sangre, y esto a instancia del padre del
muchacho que era más rico que el mio; con lo cual, en saliendo de la escuela como era
costunbre, nos fuimos a la plaza de la Concibicion Jerónima, y como tenía el dolor de
los azotes saqué el cuchillo de las escribanías y eché al muchacho en suelo boca abajo y
comencé a dar con el cuchillejo, y como me pareció no le hacía mal, le volvi boca arriba
y le di por las tripas; y diciendo todos los muchachos que le había muerto, me fui y a la
noche me fui a mi casa como si no hubiera hecho nada; este dia había falta de pan y mi
mádre nos había dado a cada uno un pastel de a cuatro, y estándole comiendo llamaron
a la puerta muy recio, y preguntando quien era, respondieron: la justicia; a lo cual me
subí a lo alto de la casa y metí debajo de la cama de mi madre; entró el alguacil y
buscóme y hallóme, y sacándome de una muñeca decía: ¡traidor, que me has muerto mi
hijo!; lleváronme a la cárcel de Corte, donde me tomaron la confesión. Yo negué
siempre y a otro día me visitaron con otros veintidós muchachos que habían prendido, y
haciendo el relator relación que yo le había dado con el cuchillo de las escribanías dije
que no, sino que le había dado otro muchacho, con lo cual entre todos los muchachos
nos asimos en la sala de los alcaldes a mojicones, defendiendo cada uno que el otro le
había dado, que no fue menester poco para apaciguarnos y echarnos de la sala. En suma,
se dio tan buena maña el padre, que en dos días probó ser yo el delincuente, y viendome
de poca edad hubo muchos pareceres, pero al último me salvó el ser menor y me dieron
una sentencia de destierro por un año de la Corte y cinco leguas, y que no lo
quebrantase so pena de destierro doblado, con lo cual salí a cumplirlo luego y el señor
alguacil se quedó sin hijo, porque murió al tercero día.
Pasé mi año de destierro en Ávila, en casa de un tío mío que era cura de Santiago de
aquella ciudad. Y acabado me volví a Madrid, y dentro de veinte días que había llegado,
llegó también el Príncipe Cardenal Alberto, que venía de gobernar a Portugal y le
mandaban ir a gobernar los estados de Flandes. Mi madre había hecho particiones de la
hacienda y, sacado su dote, había quedado que repartir entre todos ocho hermanos
seiscientos reales. Yo la dije a mi madre «Señora, yo me quiero ir a la guerra con el
cardenal», y ella me dijo «Rapaz que no ha salido del cascarón y quiere ir a la guerra...
Ya le tengo acomodado a oficio con un platero». Yo dije que no me inclinaba a servir
oficio, sino al Rey, y no obstante me llevó en casa del platero que había concertado sin
mi licencia. Dejóme en su casa y lo primero que hizo mi ama fue darme una cantarilla
de cobre, no pequeña, para que fuese por ella de agua a los Caños del Peral. Díjela que
yo no había venido a servir, sino a aprender oficio, que buscase quien fuese por agua.
Alzó un chapín para darme y yo alcé la cantarilla y tirésela, aunque no pude hacerla mal
porque no tenía fuerza y eché a huir por la escalera abajo y fui en casa de mi madre,
dando voces que por qué había de ir a servir de aguador. A lo cual llegó el platero y me
quería aporrear; salí fuera y carguéme de piedras y comencé a tirar. Con que llegó
gente, y sabido el caso, dijeron por qué me querían forzar la inclinación; con esto se fue
el platero y quedé con mi madre, a quien dije «Señora, vuesa merced está cargada de
hijos; déjeme ir a buscar mi vida con este príncipe». Y resolviéndose mi madre a ello,
dijo «No tengo qué te dar». Dije «No importa, que yo buscaré para todos, Dios
mediante». Con todo, me compró una camisa y unos zapatos de carnero, y me dio
cuatro reales y me echó su bendición, con lo cual, un martes 7 de septiembre de 1597, al
amanecer, salí de Madrid tras las trompetas del Príncipe Cardenal.
Llegamos aquel día a Alcalá de Henares, y habiendo ido a una iglesia donde le tenían
gran fiesta al Príncipe Cardenal, había un turronero entre otros muchos, con unos naipes
en la mano. Yo, como aficiónadillo, desaté de la falda de la camisa mis cuatro reales y
comencé a jugar a las quínolas. Ganómelos, y tras ellos la camisa nueva, y luego los
zapatos nuevos, que los llevaba en la pretina. Díjele si quería jugar la mala capilla. En
breve tiempo dio con ella al traste, con que quedé en cuerpo, primicias de que había de
ser soldado. No faltó allí quien me lo llamó y aún rogó al turronero me diese un real, el
cual me lo dio, y un poco de turrón de alegría, con que me pareció que yo era el
ganancioso. Aquella noche me fui a palacio, o a su cocina, por gozar de la lumbre, que
ya refriaba. Pasé entre otros pícaros, y a la mañana tocaron las trompetas para ir a
Guadalajara, con que fue menester seguir aquellas cuatro leguas mortales. Compré de lo
que me quedó del real unos buñuelos, con que pasé mi carrera hasta Guadalajara.
Rogaba a los mozos de cocina se doliesen de mí y me dejasen subir un poco en el carro
largo donde iban las cocinas. No se dolían, como no era de su gremio.
Llegamos a Guadalajara y yo fuime a palacio, porque la noche antes me había sabido
bien la 1umbre de la cocina, donde me comedí, sin que me lo mandasen, en ayudar a
pelar y a volver los asadores, con lo cual ya cené aquella noche, y pareciéndole a
maestre Jaques, cocinero mayor del Príncipe Cardenal, que yo había andado comedido y
servicial, me preguntó de dónde era. Yo se lo dije y que me iba a la guerra. Mandó que
me diesen bien de cenar, y a otro día que me llevasen en el carro, lo cual hicieron bien
contra su voluntad. Yo continué a trabajar en lo que los otros galopines, aventaján-
dome, con que maestro Jaques me recibió por su criado. Con que vine a ser dueño de la
cocina y de los carros largos que iban delante y con el Príncipe, donde me vengué de
algunos pícaros, haciéndolos ir a pie un día, pero luego se me pasó la cólera.
Caminamos a Zaragoza, donde hubo muchas fiestas, y de allí a Montserrate y
Barcelona, que pude llevar cuatro y seis personas sin que me costase blanca; todo esto
hace el servir bien. En Barcelona estuvimos algunos días, hasta que nos embarcamos en
veintiséis galeras, la vuelta de Génova. Y en Villafranca Jénica nos regaló mucho el
Duque de Saboya. De allí pasamos a Saona y antes de llegar tomamos un navío, no sé
si de turcos, o moros, o franceses, que creo había guerra entonces. Parecióme bien el ver
pelear con el artillería. Tomóse.

COMENCÉ A SER SOLDADO

En Saona estuvimos algunos días, hasta que fuimos a Milán, donde nos estuvimos
algunós días, y de allí tomamos el camino de Flandes, por Borgoña, donde hallamos
muchas compañías de caballos y de infantería española que hicieron un escuadrón biza-
rro; y como vi algunos soldados que me parecían eran tan mozos como yo, me resolví
de pedir licencia a mi amo maestre Jaques, el cual me había cobrado voluntad, y no sólo
me dio licencia, pero me dijo que me había de aporrear, con que me indigné e hice un
memorial para su Alteza, haciéndole relación de todo, y cómo le seguía desde Madrid, y
que su cocinero no me quería dar licencia, que yo no quería servir si no era al Rey.
Díjome que era muchacho y yo respondí que otros había en las compañías, y otro día
hallé el memorial con un decreto que decía: «Siéntesele la plaza no obstante que no
tiene edad para servirla», con que quedó mi amo desesperado.Y como no lo podía
remediar me dijo que él no podía faltarme, que hasta que llegásemos a Flandes acudiese
por todo lo que fuera menester. Yo lo hice y socorrí a más de diez soldados, y a mi cabo
de escuadra en particular. Senté la plaza en la compañía del capitán Mejía, y caminando
por nuestras jornadas, ya que estábamos cerca de Flandes, mi cabo de escuadra, a quien
yo respetaba como al rey, me dijo una noche que le siguiera, que era orden del capitán,
y nos fuimos del ejército, que no era amigo de pelear. Cuando amaneció estábamos lejos
cinco leguas del ejército. Yo le dije que dónde íbamos; dijo que a Nápoles, con lo cual
me cargó la mochila y me llevó a Nápoles, donde estuve con él algunos días, hasta que
me huí en una nave que iba a Palermo.

CAPÍTULO 2

Que trata hasta la segunda vuelta a Malta

Llegué en breve tiempo y luego me recibió por paje de rodela el capitán Felipe de
Menargas, catalán. Servíle, con voluntad, de paje de rodela y él me quería bien.
Ofrecióse una jornada para Levante, donde iban las galeras de Nápoles, su General,
don Pedro de Toledo, y las galeras de Sicilia, su General, don Pedro de Leyba. Iban a
tomar una tierra que se llama Petrache. Tocó embarcar la compañía de mi capitán en el
galera Capitana de César Latorre, de la escuadra de Sicilia. Llegamos a Petrache, que
esta en la Morea, y echamos la gente en tierra, haciendo su escuadrón firme. La gente
suelta o volante emprendieron entrar con sus escalas por la muralla; aquí fueron las
primeras balas que me zurrearon las orejas, porque estaba delante de mi capitán, con mi
rodela y jineta. Tomóse la tierra, pero el castillo no. Hubo muchos despojos, y
esclavos, donde aunque muchacho me cupo buena parte, no en tierra, sino en galera,
porque me dieron a guardar mucha ropa los soldados, como a persona que no me lo
habian de quitar, pero luego que llegamos a Sicilia, de lo ganado hice un vestido con
muchos colores, y un soldado de Madrid, que se me había dado por paisano, de quien yo
me fiaba, me sonsacó unos vestidos de mi amo el capitán, diciendo eran para una
comedia. Yo pensé decía verdad y que me había de llevar a ella, con lo cual cargó con
toda la ropa, que era muy buena, lo mejor que tenía mi amo en los baúles, porque él lo
escogió, junto con unos botones de oro y un cintillo. A otro día vino el sargento a casa y
dijo al capitán cómo se habían ido cuatro soldados y el uno era mi paisano. Quedéme
cortado cuando lo oi, y no dándome por entendido supe cómo las galeras de Malta
estaban en el puerto y fuime a embarcar en ellas. Y llegado a Mesina escribí una carta al
capitán, mi amo, dándole cuenta del engaño de mi paisano, que yo no le había pedido
licencia de temor.

VIAJE A MALTA

Con que pasé mi viaje hasta Malta, y en la misma galera unos caballeros españoles
trataron de acomodarme con el recibidor del Gran Maestre, un honrado caballero que
se llamaba Gaspar de Monreal, que se holgó mucho de que le sirviese. Hicelo un año,
con gran satisfacción suya, y al cabo de él le pedí licencia para irme a ser soldado a
Sicilia, que el capitán mi amo me solicitaba con cartas, diciéndome cuánta satisfacción
tenía de mi persona.

VUELTA A SICILIA

Diome licencia el comendador Monreal, con harto pesar suyo, y envióme bien
vestido. Llegué a Mesina, donde estaba el Virrey, duque de Maqueda. Senté la plaza
de soldado en la compañía de mi capitán, donde serví como soldado y no como criado
ni paje. De ahi a un año el Virrey armó en corso una galeota y mandó que los soldados
que quisieran ir en ella les darían cuatro pagas adelantadas; fui uno de ello[s] y fuimos a
Berbería (era el capitán de ella Ruipérez de Mercado). Y no habiendo topado nada en
Berbería, a la vuelta topamos otra galeota poco menos que la nuestra en una isla que
llaman la Lampadosa. Entramos en la cala, donde se peleó muy poco, y la rendimos,
cautivando en ella un corsario, el mayor de aquellos tiempos, que se llamaba Caradalí, y
junto con él otros noventa turcos. Fuimos bien recibidos en Palermo del Virrey y, con la
nueva presa, se engolosinó, que armó dos galeones grandes: uno se llamaba Galeón de
Oro y otro Galeón de Plata. Embarquéme en Galeón de Oro y fuimos a Levante, donde
hicimos tantas presas que es largo de contar, volviendo muy ricos, que yo, con ser de los
soldados de a tres escudos de paga, traje más de trescientos ducados de mi parte, en ropa
y dinero.
Y después de llegados a Palermo mandó el Virrey nos diesen las partes de lo que se
había traído. Tocóme a mí un sombrero lleno hasta las faldas de reales de a dos, con que
comencé a engrandecerme de ánimo, pero dentro de pocos días se había jugado y
gastado con otros desórdenes.

VIAJE A LEVANTE CON GALEONES

Tornóse a enviar los dos galeones a Levante, donde hicimos increíbles robos en la
mar y en la tierra, que tan bien afortunado era este señor Virrey. Saqueamos los
almagacenes que están en Alegandreta, puerto de mar donde llegan a estos almaga-
cenes todas las mercadurías que traen por tierra de la India, de Portugal, por Babilonia y
Alepo. Fue mucha la riqueza que trujimos.
En el discurso de estos viajes no dormía yo, porque tenía afición a la navegación y
siempre practicaba con los pilotos, viéndoles cartear y haciéndome capaz de las tierras
que andábamos, puertos y cabos, marcándolas, que después me sirvió para hacer un
derrotero de todo el Levante; Morea y Natolia, y Caramania, y Soria, y África,
hasta llegar a cabo Cantín en el mar Océano; islas de Candía, y Chipre, y Cerdeña y
Sicilia, Mallorca y Menorca; costa de España desde cabo de San Vicente, costeando la
tierra, Sanlúcar, Gibraltar hasta Cartagena, y de ahí a Barcelona y costa de Francia hasta
Marsella, y de ahí a Génova, y de Génova a Liorna, río Tíber y Nápoles, y de Nápoles
tóda la Calabria hasta llegar a la Pulla y golfo de Venecia, puerto por puerto, con
puntas y calas donde se pueden reparar diversos bajeles, mostrándoles el agua. Este
derrotero anda de mano mía por ahí, porque me lo pidió el Príncipe Filiberto para
verle y se me quedó con él.
Llegamos a Palermo con toda nuestra riqueza, de que el Virrey se holgó mucho y nos
dio las partes que quiso. Y con la libertad de ser levantes del Virrey y mero que tenía
no había quien se averiguase con nosotros, porque andábamos de hostería en hostería
y de casa en casa. Una tarde fuimos a merendar a uná hostería, como solíamos, y en el
discurso de la merienda dijo uno de mis compañeros, que éramos tres «Trae aquí
comida, bujarrón». El hostelero le dijo que mentía por la gola, con que sacó una
daga y le dio de suerte que no se levantó. Cargó toda la gente sobre nosotros con
asadores y otras armas, que fue bien menester el sabernos defender. Fuimonos a la
iglesia de Nuestra Señorá de Pie de Gruta, donde estuvimos retraídos hasta ver cómo lo
tomaba el Virrey. Y sabido que había dicho que nos había de ahorcar si nos cojía, dije
«Hermanos, más vale salto de matas que ruego de buenos»

HUIDA A NÁPOLES

Y recogiendo nuestra miseria cada uno, lo hicimos moneda, e hice que nos trujeran
nuestros arcabuces, sin que supieran para qué; y traídos, como la iglesia está a la orilla
de la mar, en el mismo puerto, yo me valí de mi marinería y puse los ojos en una
faluca que estaba cargada de azúcar, y a medianoche les dije a las camaradas «Ya es
hora que vuestras mercedes embarquen». Dijeron que seríamos sentidos. Yo dije «No
hay dentro de la faluca más del mozo que la guarda». Y entrando dentro y tapando la
boca al muchacho, zarpamos el ferro, diciéndole que callase, que lo mataríamos.
Tomamos nuestros remos y comenzamos a salir de la cala; y al pasar por el castillo,
dijeron «¡Ah de la barca!». Respondimos en italiano «Barca de pescar», con que no nos
dijeron más. Puse la proa a la vuelta de Nápoles, que hay trescientas millas de golfo, y
siendo Dios servido, llegamos sin peligro en tres días. Vino el guardián del puerto por la
patente; contamos la verdad y que temerosos de que el duque de Maqueda no nos
ahorcase nos habíamos huido, como está dicho. Era Virrey el conde de Lemos viejo y
había hecho capitán de infantería a su hijo, el señor don Francisco de Castro, que
después fue Virrey de Sicilia y hoy conde de Lemos, aunque fraile. Quísonos ver el
conde, y, viéndonos de buena traza y galanes, mandó sentásemos la plaza en la
compañía de su hijo y que la faluca se enviase a Palermo, con la mercaduría de azúcar
que tenía. Llamábannos en Nápoles los levantes del duque de Maqueda y nos tenían por
hombres sin alma.

JUNTA CON LOS VALENCIANOS EN NÁPOLES

A pocos días que estuvimos allí en buena reputación y en una casa de camaradas los
tres, sin admitir otras camaradas, una noche vino a nuestra casa un soldado de la misma
compañía, valenciano, con otro; dicen eran caballeros. Y nos dijeron «Vuestras merce-
des se sirvan de venir con nosotros, que nos ha sucedido aquí, en el cuartel de los
florentines, un pesar». Nosotros, por no perder la opinión de levantes, dijimos
«Vamos, voto a Cristo», y dejamos el ama sola en casa. Yendo por el camino hallamos
un hombre que debía de estar haciendo el amor; y quedándose atrás el valenciano,
oímos dar una voz. Volvimos a ver lo que era y venía el valenciano con una capa y un
sombrero, y díjonos «No se quejará más el bujarrón». Yo le dije qué era aquello; dijo
«Un bujarrón que le he enviado a cenar al infierno y me ha dejado esta capa». Yo me
escandalicé cuando tal oí, y arrimándome a una de mis camaradas, le dije «Por Dios,
que venimos a capear y no me contenta esto». Respondió «Amigo, paciencia por esta
vez, no perdamos con éstos la opinión». Yo dije «Reniego de tal opinión». Y llegando a
una casa donde vendían vino, que al parecer era donde les habían hecho el mal,
entramos por un postigo y, diciendo y haciendo, comenzaron a dar tras el patrón y
dando cuchilladas a las garrafas de vidrio, que eran muchas y asimismo a las botas de
vino a coces, de suerte que las destampañaron y corría el vino como un río; el dueño,
de la ventana, dando voces. Salimos por el postigo a la calle, y de la ventana dieron a
una camarada de las mías con un tiesto, que lo derribaron redondo y quedó sin sentido;
y a las grandes voces que daban llegó la ronda italiana y comenzamos a bregar y
menear las manos; el caído no se podía levantar, que era lo que sentía. Ultimamente, nos
apretaron con las escopetas de manera, y con las alabardas, que a uno de los valencianos
le pasaron una muñeca de un alabardazo y prendieron juntamente con el que estaba en
tierra. Nosotros nos retiramos hacia nuestro cuartel y la ronda, llevando los presos,
toparon con el muerto, a quien quitaron la capa el valenciano. Dieron aviso al cuerpo de
guarda principal de los españoles y salió luego una ronda en busca de mi camarada y de
mí y del otro valenciano. Y habiéndonos despedido del valenciano, nos íbamos a casa
por la miseria que había para irnos, cuando vimos la ronda, con cuerdas encendidas, a
nuestra puerta. Yo dije «Amigo, cada uno se salve, pues no me quisistes creer cuando la
capa». Y echando por una callejuela me fui hacia el muelle, y en una posada que está
junto al aduana llamé a donde estaba un caballero del Hábito de San Juan, que había
venido de Malta a armar un galeón para ir a Levante, amigo mío, que se llamaba el
capitán Betrián y vístome se espantó. Contéle la verdad, y escondióme y tuvo veinte
días hasta que estuvo de partencia y aquella noche me embarcó y metió en la cámara
del bizcocho, donde sudé harto hasta que estuvimos fuera de Nápoles, que me sacó
fuera y me llevó de buena gana hasta Malta. Y el valenciano y mi camarada, a quien
derribaron con el tiesto, los ahorcaron dentro de diez días. De las otras camaradas no
supe jamás.

CAPÍTULO 3

EN QUE TRATA HASTA EL MILAGRO DE LA ISLA DE
LAMPEDOSA

VUELTA A MALTA CON BETRIÁN

En Malta se holgó el comendador Monreal de verme y al cabo de algunos días que
estuvimos allí nos partimos para Levante, con el galeón y una fragata. Estuvimos más
de dos meses sin hacer presa y un día, yendo a tomar puerto en cabo Silidonia,
hallamos dentro un bizarro caramuzal que era como un galeón. Embestimos con él y
los turcos se echaron en la barca a tierra por salvar la libertad. Ordenó el capitán
fuésemos tras ellos, con ofrecimiento de diez escudos por cada esclavo. Había un pinar
grande y yo fui uno de los soldados que saltaron a tierra en seguimiento de los turcos.
Llevaba mi espada y una rodela, y sin pelo de barba.

PRESA DE LA BANDERA

Embosquéme en el pinar y topé con un turco como un filisteo, con una pica en la
mano y en ella enarbolada una bandera naranjada y blanca. Llamando a los demás , yo
enderecé con él y le dije «Sentabajo, perro». El turco me miró y rió diciéndome
«Bremaneur casaca cocomiz», que quiere decir «Putillo, que te hiede el culo como un
perro muerto». Yo me emperré y embracé la rodela y enderecé con él, con que
ganándole la punta de la pica le di una estocada en el pecho que di con él en tierra y,
quitando la bandera de la pica, me la ceñi. Y estaba despojando cuando llegaron dos
soldados franceses diciendo «A la parte». Yo me levanté de encima del turco y
embrazando mi rodela les dije que lo dejaran, que era mío, o que los mataría. Ellos les
pareció que era de burla y comenzamos a darnos muy bien, sino que llegaron otros
cuatro soldados con tres turcos que habian tomado y nos metieron en paz, con lo cual
nos fuimos todos juntos al galeón sin que despojásemos al herido de cosa alguna.
Contóse todo al capitán, el cual, tomada la confesión al turco, dijo que yo solo era el
dueño de todo. Los franceses casi se amotinaban, porque yo sólo era español en todo
aquel galeón y había de franceses más de cien. Y así hubo de dejar el capitán el caso
hasta Malta, delante de los señores del Tribunal del Armamento. Tenia el turco encima
cuatrocientos cequíes de oro; el caramuzal estaba cargado de jabón de Chipre. Metieron
gente dentro y envióse a Malta, y nosotros nos quedamos a buscar más presas, y fuimos
la vuelta de las cruceras de Alejandría.

PELEA CON LA XELMA

Y de parte de tarde descubrimos un bajel al parecer grandísimo, como lo era;
tomámosle por la juga por no perderle; y así nos encontramos a medianoche, y con el
artillería lista le preguntamos «¿Qué bajel?». Respondió «Bajel que va por la mar». Y
como él venia listo también, porque de un bajel no se le daba nada, a causa que traía
más de cuatrocientos turcos dentro y bien artillado, dionos una carga que de ella nos
llevó al otro mundo diecisiete hombres, sin algunos heridos. Nosotros le dimos la nues-
tra, que no fue menos. Abordámonos y fue reñida la pelea, porque nos tuvieron ganado
el castillo de proa y fue trabajoso el rechazarlos a su bajel. Quedámonos esta noche
hasta el día con lo dicho, y amaneciendo nos fuimos para él, que no huyó, pero nuestro
capitán usó de un ardid que importó, dejando en cubierta no más de la gente necesaria y
cerrados todos los escotillones, de suerte que era menester pelear o saltar a la mar. Fue
reñida batalla, que les tuvimos ganado el castillo de proa muy gran rato, y nos echaron
de él, con que nos desarrizamos y le combatíamos con el artillería, que éramos
mejores veleros y mejor artillería.

Aquí vi dos milagros este día que son para dichos:
y es que un artillero holandés se puso a cargar una pieza descubierto y le tiraron con
otra de manera que le dio en medio de la cabeza, que se la hizo añicos, y roció con los
sesos a los de cerca, y con un hueso de la cabeza dio a un marinero en las narices, que
de nacimiento las tenía tuertas. Y después de curado, quedaron las narices tan derechas
como las mías, con una señal de la herida. Otro soldado estaba lleno de dolores que no
dejaba dormir en los ranchos a nadie, echando por vidas y reniegos. Y aquel día le
dieron un cañonazo o bala de artillería raspándole las dos nalgas, con lo cual jamás se
quejó de dolores en todo el viaje, y decía que no habla visto mejores sudores que el aire
de una bala.
Pasamos adelante con nuestra pelea aquel día a la larga, y viniendo la noche trató el
enemigo de hacer fuerza para embestir en tierra, que estaba cerca, y siguiéndole nos
hallamos todos dos muy cerca de tierra, con una calma, al amanecer, día de Nuestra
Señora de la Concepción, y el capitán mandó que todos los heridos subiesen arriba a
morir, porque dijo «Señores, o a cenar con Cristo o a Constantinopla». Subieron todos,
y yo entre ellos, que tenía un muslo pasado de un mosquetazo y en la cabeza una grande
herida que me dieron al subir en el navío del enemigo, con una partesana, el día antes
cuando ganamos el castillo de proa. Llevábamos un fraile carmelita calzado por
capellán y díjole el capitán «Padre, échenos una bendición, porque es el día postrero».
El buen fraile lo hizo, y acabado mandó el capitán a la fragata que nos remolcase hasta
llegar al otro bajel, que estaba muy cerca; y abordándonos fue tan grande la escaramuza
que se trabó que, aunque quisiéramos apartarnos, era imposible, porque había echado un
áncora grande, con una cadena, dentro del otro bajel, porque no nos desasiéramos. Duró
más de tres horas y al cabo de ellas se conoció la victoria por nosotros, porque los
turcos, viéndose cerca de tierra, se comenzaron a echar a la mar, y no veían que nuestra
fragata los iba pescando. Acabóse de ganar, con que después de haber aprisionado los
esclavos se dio a saquéar, que había mucho y rico. Y eran tantos los muertos que había
dentro que pasaban doscientos cincuenta, y no los habían querido echar a la mar porque
nosotros no lo viéramos. Echámoslos nosotros y vi aquel día cosa que para que se vea lo
que es ser cristiano; digo que entre los muchos que se echaron a la mar muertos, hubo
uno que quedó boca arriba, cosa muy contrario a los moros y turcos, que en echándolos
muertos a la mar, al punto meten la cara y cuerpo hacia abajo y los cristianos hacia
arriba. Preguntamos a los turcos que teníamos esclavos que cómo aquél estaba boca
arriba, y dijeron que siempre lo habían tenido en sospecha de cristiano y que era
renegado bautizado, y cuando renegó era ya hombre, de nación francesa.
Reparamos nuestro bajel y el preso, que todos dos lo habían menester, y tomamos la
vuelta de Malta, donde llegamos en breve tiempo.

QUE NO JUGASEN

Y como la presa era tan rica, mandó el capitán nadie jugase, porque cada uno llegase
rico a Malta. Mandó echar los dados y naipes a la mar y puso graves penas quien los
jugase, con lo cual se ordenó un juego de esta manera: hacían un círculo en una mesa,
como la palma de la mano, y en el centro de él otro circulo chiquito como de un real de
a ocho, en el cual todos los que jugaban cada uno metía dentro de este círculo chico un
piojo y cada uno tenía cuenta con el suyo y apostaban muy grandes apuestas, y el piojo
que primero salía del circulo grande tiraba toda la apuesta, que certifico la hubo de
ochenta cequíes. Como el capitán vio la resolución, dejó que jugasen a lo que quisiesen.
Tanto es el vicio del juego en el soldado.
En Malta puse pleito por mi esclavo que tomé en tierra en cabo Silidonia, y
habiéndose hecho de una parte y otra lo necesario, dieron sentencia los señores del
Armamento: que los cuatrocientos cequíes entrasen en el número de la presa y que a mí
se me diesen cien ducados de joya por el prisionero y la bandera, con facultad que la
pusiese en mis armas por despojo si quería, lo cual hice con mucho gusto, y entregué la
bandera a una iglesia de Nuestra Señora de la Gracia.
Tocóme con las partes y galima que hice más de mil quinientos ducados, los cuales
se gastaron brevemente. Y viendo que las galeras de la Religión estaban de partencia
para Levante a hacer una empresa, me embarqué en ellas por venturero y en
veinticuatro días fuimos y vinimos, habiendo tomado una fortaleza que está en la
Morea, que se llama Pasaba, de la cual se trujeron quinientas personas entre hombres y
mujeres y niños, el gobernador y mujer, hijos y caballo, y treinta piezas de artillería de
bronce, que se espantó el mundo, sin perder un hombre. Verdad es que pensaron era la
armada de cristianos que estaba en Mesina junta.
Luego, el mismo año, que fue 1601, fueron las mismas galeras a Berbería a hacer
otra empresa. Embarquéme venturero como el viaje pasado y fuimos y tomamos una
ciudad llamada La Mahometa. Fue de esta suerte.

TOMA DE LA MAHOMETA

Llegamos a vista de la tierra la noche antes que hiciéramos esta empresa y
caminamos muy poco a poco hasta la mañana, que estuvimos muy cerca. Mando el
general que todos nos pusiésemos turbantes en la cabeza y desarbolaron los trinquetes,
de suerte que parecíamos galeotas de Morato Raez —y ellos lo pensaron—
enarboladas banderas y gallardetes turquescos y con unos tamborilillos y charamolas,
tocando a la turquesca. De esta manera llegamos a dar fondo muy cerca de tierra. La
gente de la ciudad, que está en la misma lengua del agua, salió casi toda, niños y
mujeres y hombres. Estaban señalados trescientos hombres para el efecto, que no fueron
perezosos a hacerlo, y con presteza embistieron con la puerta y ganaron, con que quedó
presa; yo fui uno de los trescientos. Cogimos todas las mujeres y niños y algunos
hombres, porque se huyeron muchos. Entramos dentro y saqueamos, pero mala ropa,
porque son pobres bagarinos embarcáronse setecientas almas y la mala ropa. Vino
luego socorro de más de tres mil moros, a caballo y a pie, con que dimos fuego por
cuatro partes a la ciudad y nos embarcamos. Costónos tres caballeros y cinco sóldados
que se perdieron por codiciosos, con que nos volvimos a Malta contentos, y gasté lo
poquillo que se había ganado, que las quiracas de aquella tierra son tan hermosas y
taimadas que son dueñas de cuanto tienen los caballeros y soldados.

LENGUA DEL ARMADA DEL TURCO

De allí a pocos días me ordenó el señor Gran Maestre Viñancur fuese a Levante con
una fragata a tomar lengua de los andamentos de la armada turquesca, por la práctica
que tenía de la tierra y lengua. Llevaba la fragata, entre remeros y otros soldados, treinta
y siete personas, de que yo era capitán, y para ello me dieron mi patente firmada y
sellada del Gran Maestre. Fui a Levante y entré en el Archipiélago. Tuve noticia de
unas barcas cómo la armada había salido de los castillos afuera y que quedaba en una
isla que se llama el Tenedo, y que iba la vuelta de Jío. Yo me entretuve hasta ver que
llegase a Jio, y sabiendo que estaba allí, aguardé a ver si iba a Negroponte, que está en
la Morea, fuera del Archipiélago; porque si no sabía la certidumbre si iba a tierra de
cristianos o se quedaba en sus mares, no hacía nada. Y es a saber que todos los años el
General de la Mar sale de çonstantinopla a visitar el Archipiélago, que son muchas islas
habitadas de griegos, pero los corregidores son turcos, y de camino recoge su tributo,
que es la renta que tiene, y hace justicia y castiga y absuelve; además, que todas
aquellas islas le tienen guardado su presente, conforme es cada una, y tiene la
habitación y muda los corregidores. Trae consigo la real con otras veinte galeras que
están en Constantinopla, la escuadra de Rodas, que son nueve, las dos de Chipre y una
de las dos de Alejandría, dos de Trípol de Suria, una de Egipto, otra de Nápoles de
Romania, tres de Jio, otras dos de Negroponte, otra de la Cábala, otra de Mitilín. Estas
no son del Gran Turco, solas las de Constantinopla y las de Rodas, que las demás son de
los gobernadores que gobiernan estas tierras que [he] nombrado. Acuérdome de las dos
de Damiata, que es por donde pasa el Nilo, y en él están estas dos galeras y juntas hace
su visita, como digo, en el Archipiélago. Y cuando ha de salir de él y venir a tierra de
cristianos se juntan las de Berbería, Argel, Bizerta, Trípol y otras que arman para hacer
cuerpo de armada, como lo hicieron este año; pero si no llegan a despalmar y tomar
bastimentos a Negroponte, no hay pensar vayan a tierras de cristianos. Supe de cierto
despalmaban y tomaban bastimentos en Negroponte y fuime a aguardar a Cabo de May-
na, y del dicho cabo descubrí la armada, que era de cincuenta y tres galeras con
algunos bergantinillos. Partíme para la isla de la Sapiencia, que está enfrente de Modón,
ciudad fuerte de turcos, y cerca de Navarín; de allí me vine al Zante ciudad de
venecianos en una isla fértil, y estuve hasta saber había partido de Navarín, y atravesé a
la Chefalonia, también isla de venecianos, y de allí me vine de golfo a la Calabria,
que hay cuatrocientas millas.

LLEGADA A RÍJOLES Y AVISO DE LA ARMADA

Tomé el primer terreno y di aviso cómo la armada venía, y costeando la tierra fui
dando aviso hasta llegar a Ríjoles, donde tuve noticia cierta iba a saquear, como lo
había hecho otro general, su antecesor, que se llamaba Cigala.
Fui bien recibido del gobernador de Ríjoles, que era un caballero del Hábito de San
Juan que se llamaba Rotinel el cual se previno llamando gente de su distrito y
caballería, y fue menester darse buena prisa porque la armada estuvo dada fondo en la
fosa de San Juan, distante de Ríjoles quince millas, al tercer día; y por los caballos que
iban y venían de la fosa de San Juan a Ríjoles supimos cómo la armada echaba gente en
tierra. El gobernador les hizo una emboscada que les degolló trescientos turcos y tomó
prisión sesenta, con que se embarcaron sin hacer daño ninguno. Y a mí me mandó el
gobernador me metiese en mi fragata y atravesase el foso y diese aviso a las ciudades
Tabormina y Zaragoza y Agusta, que están en la costa de Sicilia, enfrente de la fosa de
San Juan, distante veinte millas; lo cual hice atravesando por medio de su armada, y
habiendo hecho lo que se me ordenó pasé a Malta y di aviso de lo referido y estúvose
con cuidado, aunque la armada vino a la isla del Gozo, donde tenemos una buena
fortificación, y como estaban ya con aviso, cuando el enemigo quiso desembarcar, la
caballería que hay en aquella isla no se lo consintió, ni que hiciesen agua. Este fin tuvo
este año la armada del turco en nuestras tierras. Pasáronse algunos días con las quiracas,
y enviáronme a Berbería a reconocer la Cántara, que es una fortaleza que está en
Berbería cerca de los Gelves y es cargador de aceite, y se tenía nueva cargaban dos
urcas para Levante.

ERMITA DE LA LAMPEDOSA

Salí del puerto de Malta con mi fragata bien armada camino de Berbería, y a medio
camino hay una isla que llaman la Lampedosa, donde cogimos a Caradalí, aquel
corsario. Tiene un puerto capaz para seis galeras y hay una torre encima del puerto muy
grande, desierta. Dicen está encantada y que en esta isla fue donde se dieron la batalla el
rey Rugero y Bradamonte, para mí fábula. Pero lo que no lo es: hay una cueva que se
entra a paso llano; en ella hay una imagen de Nuestra Señora con un Niño en brazos,
pintada en tela sobre una tabla muy antigua y que hace muchos milagros; en esta cueva
hay su altar en que está la imagen, con muchas cosas que han dejado allí de limosnas
cristianos, hasta bizcocho, queso, aceite, tocino, vino y dinero. Al otro lado de la cueva
hay un sepulcro, donde dicen está enterrado un morabito turco que dicen es un santo
suyo y tiene las mismas limosnas que nuestra imagen, más y menos, y mucho ropaje
turquesco; sólo no tiene tocino. Es cosa cierta que esta limosna de comida la dejan los
cristianos y turcos porque cuando llegan allí, si se huye algún esclavo, tenga con qué
comer hasta que venga bajel de su nación y le lleve, si es cristiano o turco. Hémoslo
visto porque con las galeras de la Religión se nos ha huido moros y quedádose allí hasta
que ha venido bajel de moros y se embarca en él, y en el ínter come de aquel basti-
mento. Saben si son bajeles de cristianos o moros los que quedan allí en esta forma: la
isla tiene la torre dicha, donde suben y descubren a la mar, y en viendo bajel, van de
noche entre las matas y al puerto, y en el lenguaje que hablan es fácil de conocer si es de
los suyos; llaman y embárcanlo. Esto sucede cada día. Pero adviértese que ni él ni
ninguno de los bajeles no se atreverá a tomar el valor de un alfiler de la cueva, porque
es imposible salir del puerto; y esto lo vemos cada día. Suele estar ardiendo de noche y
día la lámpara de la Virgen sin haber alma en la isla, la cual es tan abundante de
tortugas de tierra que cargamos las galeras cuando vamos allí, y hay muchos conejos. Es
llana como la palma; bojea ocho millas.
Toda esta limosna, que es grande, no consiente la imagen la tome ningún bajel de
ninguna nación, si no son las galeras de Malta y lo llevan a la iglesia de la Anunciada de
Trápana. Y si otro lo toma no hay salir del puerto.

CAPÍTULO 4

EN QUE SE SIGUE VIAJES DE LEVANTE Y SUCESOS
HASTA ESTAMPALIA

Yo seguí mi viaje la vuelta de Berbería aquella noche, y amanecí en el seco, diez
millas largo, donde estaba una galeota de diecisiete bancos, que no me holgué de verla.
La cual, como me vio, enarboló un estandarte verde con tres medias lunas que llegaba al
agua. Mi gente comenzó a desmayar y el patrón dijo «Ay de mí, que somos esclavos,
que es la galeota de Cayte Mami de Trípol». Yo le reñí y dije «Ea, hijos, que hoy
tenemos buena presa». Paré y no navegué, por prevenirme; puse mi moyana en orden
y enllenéla de clavos y balas y saquillos de piedra, y dije «Déjame, que esta galeota es
nuestra; cada uno tenga su espada y rodela a su lado, y los soldados con sus
mosquetes», que llevaba ocho que eran españoles, de quien me fiaba. Comencé a
caminar hacia la galeota. Ella se estaba queda y hacía bien, porque yo ya no podía
huir, aunque hubo pareceres de ello, pero era mi total ruina, además de la infamia.
Díjelos «Amigos, ¿no veis que de aqui a tierra de cristianos hay ciento veinte:millas y
que este bajel es reforzado y a cuatro paladas nos alcanzará y les damos valor en huir?
Dejáme hacer a mí, que yo también tengo vida. Mirá, en llegando a abordar
esprolongaremos y daremos la carga de mosquetería; ellos se meterán abajo a
recibirla». Y cuando se levantasen a darnos la suya, les daría con la moyana que estaba
a mi cargo y los arrasaría.

TOMA DE LA GALEOTA EN LOS SECOS DE LOS GELVES

Parecióles bien, y arbolando nuestras banderas fui con el mayor valor a embestirla,
que se quedaron atónitos; y vista mi resolución, ya que estábamos cerca, se puso en
huida. Seguíla más de cuatro horas, no pudiéndola alcanzar, y mandé que no bogasen y
que comiese la gente. La galeota hizo lo mismo sin apartarse. Torné a dar caza y ellos a
recibirla, hasta la tarde, que hice lo mismo de no caminar y él hizo también lo mismo.
Estúveme quedo toda la tarde y la noche, con buena guarda, por ver si se iría con la
oscuridad, y yo hacer mi viaje a La Cántara. Antes de amanecer di de almorzar a la
gente, y vino puro por lo que se podía ofrecer, y amanecido me los hallé a tiro de
arcabuz. Puse la proa sobre ellos y los iba alcanzando y tiré la mosquetería. Ellos
apretaron los puños en huir, yo en seguir, que no los quise dejar hasta que lo hice
embestir en tierra, debajo de la fortaleza de los Gelves, donde saltaron en tierra, el agua
a la cintura, porque esto todo es bajo y, aunque me tiraron algunas piezas, no por eso
dejé de dar un cabo a la galeota, y saqué fuera, donde no me alcalzaba la artillería.
Habían quedado dentro dos cristianos, que eran esclavos, el uno mallorquín y el otro
siciliano de Trápana. Hubo algunas cosillas, como escopetas y arcos y flechas y alguna
ropa de vestir. Quitéle las velas y la bandera, y el buque, con hartas cosillas que no
quise por no cargar la fragata, lo mandé quemar. Partíme de allí la vuelta de La Cántara
y no había en el cargador bajel ninguno. Olvidóseme decir de dónde era la galeota; y era
de Santa Maura, que venía de Berbería [a] armar para andar en corso.
De La Cántara me fui a Trípol el Viejo y, en una cala que está doce millas, me
metí desarbolado todo un día y noche, y a otro día al amanecer, pasaba un garbo
cargado de ollas, con diecisiete moros y moras. No se me escapó ninguno y metilos en
mi fragata, y eché a fondo el garbo, aunque le quité una tinaja llena de azafrán y algunos
barraganes. Di la vuelta a Malta donde fui bien recibido. Dióseme lo que me tocaba
de los esclavos, que los toma la Religión a sesenta escudos, malo con bueno, y del mon-
te mayor me tocó a siete por ciento. Gastóse alegremente con amigos y la quiraca que
era la que mayor parte tenía en lo que ganaba con tanto trabajo.

DÍA DE SAN GREGORIO

En este tiempo se llegó el día de San Gregorio que está fuera de la ciudad seis
millas, donde va toda la gente y el Gran Maestre, y no queda quiraca en el lugar. Yo
había de ir, y de celos que tenía no quise ir, ni que fuera la quiraca. Y este día, después
de comer, estando con la tal quiraca tratando nuestros celos, oí disparar una pieza del
castillo de San Telmo, cosa nueva, y al punto otra. Salí a la calle y daban voces que
se huían los esclavos del horno de la Religión, donde hacen el pan para toda ella. Partí
al punto al burgo, donde tenía mi fragata, y pensando hallaría mi gente, fue en balde
porque se habían ido a San Gregorio. Tomé luego de los barqueroles que andan
ganando a pasar gente y armé la fragata, no metiendo más que la moyana y medias
picas. Salí del puerto en seguimiento de los esclavos, que iban en una buena barca y
llevaban por bandera una sábana. Llegando cerca, les dije que se rindiesen, y con poca
vergüenza me dijeron que llegase. Eran veintitrés y llevaban tres arcos con cantidad de
flechas y dos alfanjes y más de treinta asadores. Tornéles a decir que mirasen los
había de echar a fondo, que se rindiesen, que no los harían mal, que obligados estaban a
buscar la libertad. No quisieron, diciendo querían morir, pues les había quitado la
libertad. Di fuego a la moyana y perniquebré a cuatro de ellos, y abordando me dieron
una carga de flechazos que me mataron a un marinero e hirieron dos. Entré dentro y
maniatados los metí en la fragata, y la barca que truje de remolco. Acerté a estropear
uno de ellos, y era el cabo, y se iba muriendo de las heridas, y antes que acabase lo
ahorqué de un pie y colgado de él entré en el puerto, donde estaba toda la gente de la
ciudad en las murallas y el Gran Maestre que había venido al sentir la artillería.
Llevaban más de doce mil ducados de plata y joyas de sus dueños que, aunque huían del
horno, no había más que cuatro de él, que los demás eran de particulares. Valióme lo
que yo me sé. Salté en tierra, besé la mano al Gran Maestre y estimó el servicio y
mandó que se me diese doscientos escudos. Pero si yo no me hubiera pagado de mi
mano, no tocara ni un real, porque cargaron aquellos señores dueños de los esclavos,
que eran todos consejeros, y aún me puso pleito uno por el que ahorqué a que se le
pagase. No tuvo efecto, que se quedó ahorcado y la quiraca satisfecha de no haber ido a
la fiesta, porque gozó todo lo que hurté en la barca, de que hoy día tiene una casa harto
buena y labrada a mi costa.

LIBERTAD A LOS CAPUCHINOS

De allí a pocos días se ofreció que venían a Malta tres padres capuchinos de
Sicilia, y se habían embarcado en un bajel cargado de leña y salió un bergantín y los
cautivó. Súpolo el Maestre y a medianoche me envió a llamar y mandó en todo caso
saliese del puerto en busca del bergantín, aunque fuese hasta Berbería. Hícelo, y llegado
a Sicilia, a la Torre del Pozal, tomé lengua cómo el bergantín iba a La Licata.
Seguíle y allí me dijeron había ido a Surgento, y allí me dijeron había ido hacia
Marzara, y allí me dijeron que había ido hacia el Marétimo, isla, la vuelta de
Berbería, que hay un castillejo del rey. Dijéronme que había más de siete horas se había
partido a Berbería. Resolvíme seguirle. La gente se amotinó contra mí porque no
llevaba el bastimento necesario, y era verdad, pero yo me fiaba en que estaba en el
camino la Madre de Dios de la Lampedosa, a quien le quitáramos todo el bastimento, y
al morabito, con intención de pagárselo, y asi se lo dije a todos, con que se quietaron.
Hice vela la vuelta de Berbería, en nombre de Dios, y a menos de cuatro horas la guarda
de arriba descubrió el bajel.
Apreté a remo y vela porque no me faltase el día y ganábale el camino a palmos. El
bergantín se resolvió irse a una isla que se llamaba la Linosa, con parecerle se
salvaría por venir la noche, pero yo me di tan buena maña que le hice embestir antes de
tiempo en la isla. Huyéronseme todos los moros, que eran diecisiete, y hallé el bergantín
con solos los tres frailes y una mujer y un muchacho de catorce años y un viejo. Retiréle
a la mar y estuve con buena guarda hasta la mañana. Era lástima ver los padres con las
esposas en las manos. Cenamos, y a la mañana envié dos hombres diligentes a lo alto de
la isla a reconocer la mar y que se quedase uno de guarda y el otro bajase con lo que
había. Dijo estaba limpia de bajeles la mar, con lo cual envié al bosque, que es chiquito,
a pegar fuego por cuatro partes y en el aire salieron todos diecisiete moros sin faltar
ninguno. Aprisionélos y metí dentro de la fragata la mitad y en el bergantín la otra
mitad, con otra mitad de mi gente, con lo cual hicimos vela la vuelta de Malta, donde
entramos con el gusto que se deja considerar. Valióme mis trescientos escudillos el
viaje, además del agradecimiento, con que echó un remiendo la quiraca.
Dentro de pocos días me enviaron a Levante a tomar lengua. Púseme en orden y partí
de Golfo Lanzado. Fue el primer terreno que tomé el Zante, seiscientas millas
distantes de Malta; entré en el Archipiélago, en la isla de Cerfanto. Una mañana topé
un bergantinillo chico, medio despalmado, con diez griegos; metílos en mi fragata y
pregunté dónde iban tan aprestados. Dijeron que a Jio. Yo, como era bellaco, les dije
que dónde tenían los turcos que traían. Dijeron y juraron que no traían a nadie. Yo dije
«Pues estos tapacines ¿cuyos son?, ¿no veis que son en que comen los turcos, que
vosotros no traéis éstos?» Negaron. Yo comencé a darlos tormento y no como quiera.
Pasáronlo todos excepto un muchacho de quince años a quien hice desnudar y que le
atasen y sentasen en una piedra baja, y dije «Dime la verdad, si no con este cuchillo te
[he] de cortar la cabeza». El padre del muchacho, como vio la resolución, vino y echóse
a mis pies y díjome «¡Ah, capitano!, no me mates mi hijo, que yo te diré dónde están los
turcos». Este tal se había ensuciado en el tormento: miren el amor de los hijos. Fueron
soldados y trajeron tres turcos, uno señor y dos criados, con su ropa o aljuba de
escarlata aforrada en martas y sus cuchillos damasquinos con su cadenilla de plata.
Echóse a mis pies con una barba bermeja muy bien castigada. Despedí el
bergantinillo con los griegos. Pero olvidábaseme que trajeron con el turco cinco baúles
de estos redondos turquescos, llenos de damasco de diferentes colores y mucha seda sin
torcer encarnada y algunos pares de zapaticos de niños.

RESCATE QUE HICE EN ATENAS DEL TURCO

Traté de tomar lengua y éste me la dio, porque venia de Constantinopla y traía un
caramuzal cargado, y de miedo de los corsarios venía en aquel bergantinillo que parecía
estaba seguro, y tenía razón. Díjorne cómo la armada del turco iba al mar Negro, con
que descuidé y traté si quería rescatarse. Dijo que sí. Vinimos a ajustar, tras largas
pláticas, en que me daría tres mil cequíes de oro y que para ello había de empeñar dos
hijos en Atenas, de donde era.
Fui hacia allá y no quise entrar en el puerto, porque tiene la boca estrecha y pueden
no dejar salir si quieren con veinte arcabuceros; fui a una cala que está cinco millas de
la tierra. Fue necesario enviar uno de los dos criados con tiempo de tres horas, no más,
para ir y venir. Hízolo y vino con él toda la nobleza de Atenas a caballo. Cuando vi
tanta caballería retiréme a la mar y en una pica enarbolaron una toalla blanca, con que
me aseguré y yo arbolé la de San Juan. Entraron dentro tres turcos venerables y que yo
saliese a ajustar. Hícelo con uno que parecía o debía de ser el gobernador por la
obediencia que le tenían. Díjome que hasta otro día no se podía juntar el dinero.
Respondí que con irme estaba hecho, que bien sabía que Negroponte estaba por tierra
muy poco camino y podían avisar a Morato Gancho, que era el bay de aquella ciudad
y podía venir con su galera, que era de veintiséis bancos, y cogerme; que si quería
asegurarme de la mar y de la tierra que yo aguardaría lo que mandase. Díjome que de la
mar no podía, que de la tierra sí. Yo dije «Pues dame licencia, que me quiero ir, y llama
a tus turcos que están dentro la fragata». El, como me vio resuelto, me dijo que gustaba
de ello, y así, delante de todos, alzó el dedo, diciendo: «Hala, Ylala», con lo cual es más
cierto este juramento que veinte escrituras cuarentijas. Hablamos de muchas cosas,
porque entendía español; adviértese que había enviado a llamar al Morato Gancho.
Comimos de una ternera que se mató y en lugar de vino bebimos aguardiente de pasas
de Corinto. Hicieron que subiese a caballo; yo dije que no lo había ejercitado, sino el
andar por mar.
Hiciéronlo ellos y corrieron y escaramuzaron que era de ver, porque los caballos eran
buenos y traían todos encima de las ancas una cubierta corta de damasco de diferentes
colores y eran más de doscientos cincuenta. Trajeron el dinero en reales de a ocho
segovianos nuevos, y me rogaron los tomase, que no se hallaba oro. Dije al patrón que
los tomase y contase, y pareciale que tanto dinero nuevo y tan lejos de donde se hace no
hubiese alguna tramoya. Vino a mí, díjomelo, mandéle cortase uno y eran el centro de
cobre y el borde de plata. Quéjeme luego y juramentando por Alá que no eran sabidores
de ello quisieron matar a dos venecianos mercaderes, que lo habían traído, y lo hicieran
si yo no les fuera a la mano. Rogáronme tuviese paciencia mientras se volvía a la
ciudad a traer el dinero, y en cuatro caballos fueron cuatro turcos como el viento. Estan-
do en esto, asomó por la punta de la cala la galeota de Morato Gancho. Yo cuando la vi
me quedé helado, y al punto se pusieron a caballo y enarbolaron una bandera blanca en
un[a] lanza. La galera fue a la vuelta de ellos y la hicieron dar fondo lejos de mí casi un
tiro de arcabuz, que esta ley tienen estos turcos, y desembarcado el arraez vino donde
estaba yo con otros turcos. Yo me fui para él y nos saludamos, él a su usanza, yo a la
mía. Fue a ver al que yo tenía esclavo, pidiéndome licencia. Yo mandé al punto le
echasen en tierra con su aljuba y cuchillos como le tomé, que lo estimaron mucho.
Estuvimos de buena conversación y me pidieron fuese a ver la galera. Fuimos, y al
entrar me saludaron con las charamelas. Estuve un poco y luego nos salimos a tierra y
pasamos en conversación hasta que vinieron con el dinero, que no tardó dos horas en ir
y venir. Trajéronlo en cequíes de oro y, más, me presentaron dos mantas blancas como
una seda, dos alfanjes con sus guarniciones de plata, dos arcos y dos carcajes con
quinientas flechas hechos un ascua de oro, mucho pan y aguardiente y dos terneras.
Mandé sacar la seda por torcer y los zapaticos y dilos al que era mi cautivo, que me
besó en pago de ello y, más, le di una pieza de damasco y otra presente a el arraez de la
galera. Diome él unos cuchillos damasquinos. Con que ya anochecía, y queriéndome yo
partir me rogó cenase con él, que por la mañana me iría. Acepté y regalóme muy bien.
Estando cenando envió un billete mi cautivo al arraez pidiéndole rescatase sus dos
criados y que me lo rogase; hízolo con grande instancia. Envié por ellos al punto a la
fragata y díjele «Veslos aquí y a tu voluntad». Estimólo mucho. Dábame doscientos ce-
quíes. No quise recibirlos, y así me dijo «Pues llévate este cristiano que me sirve en la
popa a mí». Yo le dije que lo aceptaba porque cobraba libertad. Fuime a mi fragata y a
la mañana envié a pedirle licencia para zarpar. Díjome que cuando yo quisiese; hícelo y,
al pasar por cerca la galera, le saludé con la moyana. Respondióme con otra pieza, con
que nos fuimos cada uno su viaje.
Tomé la derrota hacia el canal de Rodas y llegué a una isla que se llama
Estampalia, con buena habitación de griegos. En ésta no hay corregidor, sino es
capitán y gobernador un griego con patente del General de la Mar. Yo era muy conocido
en todas estas islas y estimado, porque jamás los hice mal; antes los ayudaba siempre
que podía. Cuando tomaba alguna presa de turcos y no la podía llevar a Malta, daba de
limosna el bajel y les vendía el trigo o arroz y lino que de ordinario eran la carga que
traían, y fue tanto esto que, cuando había algunas disensiones grandes decían:
«Aguardemos al capitán Alonso», que así me llamaban, para que las sentenciase, y
cuando venía me hacían relación y las sentenciaba, aunque aguardasen un año, y
pasaban por ella como si lo mandara un consejo real y luego comíamos juntos los unos
y los otros.

CAPÍTULO 5

EN QUE SE SIGUE HASTA QUE VINE A MALTA OTRA
VEZ DE LEVANTE

LLEGADA A ESTAMPALIA

Llegado que fui a Estampalia entré en el puerto. Era día de fiesta, y así como
conocieron que era yo avisaron y al punto bajaron casi toda la tierra y el capitán
Jorge, que así se llamaba, apellidándome «Omorfo Pulicarto», que quiere decir «mozo
galán». Venían muchas mujeres casadas y doncellas, en cuerpo, con sus basquiñas a
media pierna y jaquetillas coloradas con media manga casi justa y las faldas de ella
redondas hasta media barriga, medias de color y zapatos y algunas chinela abierta por la
punta; y algunas las traen de terciopelo de color como el vestido, también quien puede
de seda y, quien no, de grana. Sus perlas, como las traemos en la garganta acá, las
traen en la frente, y sus arrancadas y manillas de oro en las muñecas quien puede.
Entre éstas había muchas que eran mis comadres, a quien había yo sacado de pila sus
hijos.
Venían todos tristes, como llorando, y a voces me pidieron les hiciese justicia, que
una fragata de cristianos había, con engaño, llevádoles el papaz, que es el cura, y que
habían pedido por él dos mil cequíes. Yo dije donde estaba o cuándo le habían
cautivado. Dijeron que esta mañana y no habían oído misa, y era esta hora las dos de la
tarde. Torné a preguntar «Pues ¿dónde está la fragata de cristianos que le llevó?».
Dijeron que en el Despalmador, que es un islote cerca dos millas. Enderecé allá cón mi
fragata y muy en orden, porque era fuerza el pelear aunque eran cristianos, porque son
gente que arman sin licencia, y todos de mala vida, y hurtan a moros y a cristianos como
se veía, pues cautivaba el cura y lo rescataba en dos mil cequíes.

PRESA DE LA FRAGATA QUE LLEVABA EL CURA DE ESTAMPALIA

En suma, yo llegué al islote con las armas en la mano y la artillería en orden. Hallé la
fragata con una bandera enarbolada con la imagen de Nuestra Señora; era la fragata
chica, de nueve bancos con veinte personas. Mandé al punto entrase el capitán de ella en
mi fragata, que al punto lo hizo, y preguntéle dónde había armado. Dijo que en Mesina.
Pedíle la patente y diómela, pero era falsa, y así luego hice entrar en mi fragata la mitad
de la gente y que les echasen esposas y envié a su fragata otros tantos. Comenzaron a
quejarse diciendo que ellos no tenían culpa, que Jacomo Panaro les traía engañados, que
así se llamaba su capitán, diciéndoles traía licencia del Virrey, y que querían ir
sirviéndome al cabo del mundo y no andar un punto con el otro, que ellos no habían
sabido quería cautivar al papaz y que asi como vieron entrar mi fragata en el puerto
quiso buirse el capitán con el papaz y ellos no quisieron sino aguardar. Con esto me
resolví a que no les echasen esposas y desembarqué al capitán en el islote, desnudo, sin
sustento ninguno, para que allí pagase su pecado muriendo de hambre. Partí con las dos
fragatas a la tierra y, llegado al puerto, estaban casi toda la gente de ella.
Desembarqué al papaz, y así como le vieron comenzaron a gritar y a darme mil
bendiciones. Supieron cómo dejaba desnudo al capitán en la isla y sin comida;
pidiéronme de rodillas enviase por él. Dije que no me enojasen, que así se castigaban
los enemigos de cristianos, ladrones, que agradeciesen que no le babia ahorcado.
Subimos a la iglesia del lugar, dejando en guarda las fragatas, sin que subiese sino una
camarada. En entrando en la iglesia se sentaron en bancos los más caballeros, si es que
los había; quiero decir los más granados, que en todas partes hay más y menos. A mí
me sentaron solo en una silla, con una alfombra debajo los pies, y de allí un poco, salió
revestido el cura, como de Pascua, y comenzó a cantar y a responder toda la gente con
«Cristo Saneste», que es dar gracias a Dios. Incensóme y después me besó en el çarrillo
y luego fue viniendo toda la gente, los hombres primero y luego las mujeres, haciendo
lo mismo. Cierto es que había hartas hermosas, de que no me pesaba sus besos, que
templaba con ellos los que me habían dado tantos barbados y bien barbados. De allí
salimos y fuime a casa del capitán, donde se quedaron a comer el pápaz y la parentela.
Enviaron luego a las fragatas mucho vino y pan y carne guisada y frutas de las que
había en abundancia.

CUANDO ME QUISIERON CASAR EN ESTAMPALIA

Sentámonos a comer, que había harto y bueno. Sentarónme a la cabecera de mesa; no
lo consentí, sino que se sentase el papaz. Sentarónse las mujeres del capitán y su hija,
que era doncella y hermosa y bien ataviada. Comióse y hubo muchos brindis, y acabada
la comida dije que me quería ir a las fragatas. Levantóse el papaz con mucha gravedad y
dijo:
«Capitán Alonso, los hombres y mujeres de esta tierra te han cerrado la puerta y
quieren, rogándotelo, seas su caudillo y amparo, casándote con esta señora hija del
capitán Jorge, el cual te dará toda su hacienda y nosotros la nuestra y nos obligaremos a
que el General de la Mar te dé el cargo de capitán de esta tierra, que con un presente que
le hagamos y pagarle el jarache acostumbrado no habrá contradicción ninguna, y
todos te seremos obedientes esclavos. Y advierte que lo hemos jurado en la iglesia y que
no puede ser menos. Por Dios que nos cumplas este deseo que tenemos muchos días
han.»
Yo respondí que era imposible hacer lo que me pedían porque, además de que había
de tornar a Malta a dar cuenta de lo que se me había encomendado, era dar nota de mi
persona y no dirían quedaba casado en tierra de cristianos y con cristiana, sino en
Turquía y renegado la fe que tanto estimo. Además que aquella gente que traía
quedaban en el riñón de Turquía y se podrían perder y así seria yo causa de su
perdición, perdiendo su libertad. Y aunque les pareció mis razones fuertes, era tanto el
deseo que tenian que dijeron me había de quedar allí.
Vístoles con tal resolución, dije que fuese mi camarada a las fragatas y diese un
tiento a ver cómo lo tomaba mi gente y conforme viera, haría yo.
Bajó mi camarada y contó el caso, de que todos se espantaron; y si acá arriba me
tenían amor, mucho más me tenían ellos. Con lo cual comenzaron a armarse y sacaron
una moyana de cada fragata y la pusieron en un molino de viento que estaba enfrente de
la puerta, poco distante, y enviaron a decir con mi camarada que si no me dejaban salir,
que habían de entrar por fuerza y saquear la tierra, que ¿ése era el pago que daban de las
buenas obras que siempre les había hecho? Espantáronse de tal amor y dijeron que no
estaban engañados en haberme querido por señor, que por lo menos les diese la palabra
de que volvería en habiendo cumplido con mis obligaciones. Yo se la di y quisieron
diese la mano a la muchacha y besase en la boca. Yo lo hice de buena gana y estoy
cierto que si quisiera gozarla no hubiera dificultad. Diome el papaz tres alfombras harto
buenas, y la muchacha dos pares de almohadas bien labradas y cuatro pañizuelos y dos
berriolas labradas con seda y oro. Enviaron gran refresco a las fragatas y despedíme,
que fue un Día de Juicio.
De Estampalia me fui a una isla que se llama Morgon y allí despedí la fragata con
juramento que me hicieron de no tocar a ropa de cristianos, porque en aquellas tierras no
se ha de andar más de con una fragata, y ésa bien armada, y hermanada la gente y en un
pie como grulla.
De Morgon me fui la vuelta de la isla de San Juan de Padmos, donde escribió el
apocalise el santo evangelista, estando desterrado por el emperador, y aquí está la
cadena con que le trajeron preso.
En el camino topé una barca de griegos que llevaba dentro dos turcos, el uno
renegado, y era cómitre de la galera de Azan Manolo. Venía de casarse en una isla
que se llama Sira. Echéles sus manetas y despedí la barca. Preguntéle si había junta
de armada, como a persona que era fuerza el saberlo; dijo que no. Con que seguí mi
viaje y, tomando lengua en la ciudad de Padmos, hallé la misma nueva; aquí se toma
cierta porque hay un castillo que sirve de convento y es muy rico. Tienen tráfago de
bajeles en todo Levante y traen las banderas como los bajeles de San Juan. Con esto me
fui a una isla que está cerca quince millas, desierta, que se llama el Formacon, con
pensamiento de hacer las partes del damasco y dinero, que por esto era tan amado de mi
gente, que no aguardaba el hacer las partes en Malta.

CAZA DE[L] JEFER GENOVÉS

Envié tres hombres a lo alto a que hiciesen la descubierta la vuelta de tierra firme
y a la mar y que con lo que hubiese viniese uno abajo y, entretanto, mandé que se
sacasen a tierra los cuarteles y el damasco. Estando en esto llegó uno de los de arriba y
dijo «Señor capitán, dos galeras vienen hacia la isla».
Torné a mandar que metiesen el damasco y cuarteles dentro y mandé hacer el caro
a las velas y enjuncarla[s] y que estuviesen izadas. Luego bajaron los otros dos
diciendo «Señor, que somos esclavos». Mandé se sentase cada uno en su lugar y zarpé
el hierro y me estuve quedo. Yo estaba en una cala. Las galeras no tenían noticia de mí
por la navegación que traían, porque si la tuvieran ciñeran la isla, que era chica, una
por cada lado. Y así me estuve quedo cuando asomó la una por la punta, a la vela. No
me vio hasta que ya había pasado buen rato, y como vio la fragata volvió sobre mí, que
estaba muy cerca; la otra galera hizo lo mismo y amainaron de golpe con gran
vocería. Vine a quedar mi popa con la proa de la galera y el arraez o capitán se puso con
un alfanje encima de su filaretes, no dejando entrar a nadie dentro, porque en bulla
no la trabucasen, y dando voces «Da la palamara, ¡canalla!». La palamara es un cabo
que quería darme la galera para tenerme atado. Yo, como los vi tan embarazados, dije
entre mí «O cien palos o libertad», y cazando la escoba que tenía en la mano icé vela y
alarguéme de la galera. Icé la otra vela y la galera, como estaba la una y la otra
embarazada con la vela en crujía, primero que hicieron ciaescurre e hicieron vela
tras de mí, ya yo estaba a más de una milla de ellos. Comenzáronme a tomar el lado de
la mar, y yo era fuerza que para salir pasase por debajo de su proa.
Faltó el viento y diéronme caza ocho ampolletas, sin que me ganasen un palmo de
mar. Tomó a venir el viento e hicé vela. Y ellos y todo, tiráronme de cañonazos con el
artillería y con una bala me llevaron o pasaron el estandarte de arriba del árbol y otra
bala me quitó la forqueta de desarbolar, donde se pone el árbol y entenas cuando se
desarbola, que está abajo. Temí mucho no me echase a fondo, y más que para
alcanzarme usó de astucia marinera, y fue que cargaba toda la gente a la proa de la
galera por ver la fragata, y no la dejaba caminar; y haciendo retirarla con tres
bancadas hacia la popa, comenzó a resollar la galera y me iba acercando palmo a
palmo.

SOLIMÁN DE CATANIA, JEFER GENOVÉS

Yo, como me vi casi perdido, valíme de la industria. Ellos me tenían ganada la
mar y yo iba de la parte de tierra, que era fuerza embestir en ella o pasar por sus proas.
En este paraje hay un islote cerca de tierra firme que se llama el Xamoto; tiene un
medio puerto donde solemos estar cubiertos con las galeras de Malta para hacer
alguna presa. Yo enderecé la fragata hacia allá e hice que subiese un marinero encima
del árbol con una gaveta con pólvora y que hiciese dos humadas y que luego, con un
capote llamase a la vuelta del islote. Las galeras, que vieron esto, amainaron de golpe
e hicieron el caro, volviendo a deshacer su camino con cuanta fuerza pudieron,
pensando que estaban allí las galeras de Malta, con que en poco tiempo no nos vimos.
Yo me fui a una isla que se llama Nacaria, donde estuve con buena guarda, porque es
alta y descubre mucho, hasta otro día al anochecer que me partí para la isla de
Micono, donde topé una tartana francesa cargada de cueros de cabras que venía de
Jio. Diome nueva cómo el arraez que me dio caza con las dos galeras, que se llamaba
Solimán de Catania, jefer genovés, había estado a la muerte de pesar de habérsele
escapado una fragata debajo de la palamenta. Díjele que yo era y se espantó el patrón
de la tartana y no acababa de decir y avisóme que estaba de partencia para irme a buscar
y aguardar a la salida del Archipiélago. Con esto me resolví de hacer el viaje para Malta
y aguardé una tramontana recia, con que me hice a la vela y salí de estos cuidados.
Llegué a Malta, donde se espantaron del suceso, e hicimos las partes del dinero y
damasco, sacando del monte mayor para un terno para la iglesia de Nuestra Señora de
la Gracia, que se dio con mucho gusto, y asimismo se descuidó en que no había
armada por aquel año.

SALIDA DEL ARCHIPIÉLAGO

De allí a pocos días me enviaron a corsear con dos fragatas, una del Maestre y otra
del Comendador Monreal, mi amo antiguo, sin orden de tomar lengua. Partí de Malta
con las dos fragatas, que parecían dos galeras, con treinta y siete personas en cada una.
Engolféme la vuelta de Africa y tomé el primer terreno en Cabo de Bonandrea
setecientas millas de golfo. Costeé las salinas y fuime a Puerto Solimán a refrescar la
aguada, donde quiso mi desgracia que pasaban a la Meca, donde está el cuerpo de
Mahoma, gran cantidad de moros, los cuales me hicieron una emboscada alrededor de
un pozo donde había de ir a hacer el agua, que todo es juncales altos alrededor y, como
los moros andan desnudos y de su color, no los vio la gente.

DESDICHA EN PUERTO SOLIMÁN

Iban veintisiete marineros con barriles y dieciséis soldados españoles con sus
arcabuces, y estando sobre el pozo se descubrió la emboscada y dieron sobre la gente.
Los marineros echaron a huir sin barriles y los soldados a pelear retirándose. Y al trueno
de los arcabuces salí yo con otros veinte hombres a socorrerlos, que ya venían cerca de
la marina y visto el socorro se detuvieron. Cautiváronme tres soldados y matáronme
cinco que me hicieron falta; nuestra gente cautivó dos, un viejo de sesenta años y otro
poco menos. Alzamos bandera de paz y tratamos del rescate. Yo les daba sus dos por
dos, y el otro le rescataba. Dijeron que no, que todos tres, que los que yo tenía me los
llevase. Dejámoslo y tornáronme a llamar diciendo si quería los barriles llenos de agua,
que qué les daría. Dije que yo no había menester agua, sino los cristianos. Y cierto que
había menester más los barriles con el agua que la gente, porque no me había quedado
vasijas en que meterla, sino dos carreteles, y si no me lo dan era fuerza perdernos, y
como de burla dije ¿Qué quieres por cada barril lleno?». Pidieron un cequí de oro, y
aunque se lo quisiéramos dar era imposible, porque no habíamos hecho presa. Díjeles
que no teníamos cequíes. Dijeron «Pues danos bizcocho». Contentéme y diles por cada
barril lleno de agua una rodela llena de bizcocho, que no me hacía falta. Recogí todos
mis veintisiete barriles y torné a rogarlos me diesen los dos cristianos por los suyos. No
quisieron y, así, traté de enterrar en la playa los muertos y puse una cruz a cada uno. A
la mañana los hallé encima de la arena, que me quedé espantado pensando los hubiera
desenterrado algunos lobos, pero cuando los vi me asombré porque estaban sin narices y
sin orejas y sacados los corazones. Pensé perder el juicio y arbolé bandera de paz y dije
lo mal que lo habían hecho. Respondieron llevaban a Mahoma a presentarle aquellos
despojos en señal de la merced que les había hecho. Yo, con la cólera, dije que había de
hacer lo mismo de los dos que tenía. Dijeron que querían más diez cequíes que treinta
moros. Y asi, delante de ellos, les corté las orejas y narices y se las arrojé en tierra
diciendo «Lleva también éstas», y atándolos espalda con espalda, me alargué a la mar y
los arrojé a sus ojos y caminé la vuelta de Alejandría.
No topé nada en esta costa y pasé a la ciudad de Damiata, que es Egipto, y entré en el
río Nilo por si topaba algún bajel cargado. No topé nada. Atravesé a la costa de Suria,
que hay ciento treinta millas. Llegué a las riberas de Jerusalén, que están veinticuatro
millas de aquella santa ciudad. Entré en el puerto de Jafa y hallé unas barcas; huyóse
la gente. De allí pasé a Castel Pelegrín, en la misma costa; de allí a Cayfas. En una
punta de este puerto hay una ermita, un tiro de arcabuz de la mar y menos, donde dicen
reposó Nuestra Señora cuando iba huyendo a Egipto. Caminé adelante al puerto de San
Juan de Acre, y había dentro bajeles, pero eran grandes y hube de pasar adelante, a la
ciudad de Beruta. También pasé y llegué a la de Surras, que estas dos ciudades y
puertos son de un poderoso que casi no reconoce al Gran Turco; llámase el Ami de
Surras. Un hermano de éste vino a Malta y fue festejeado y regalado y tornado a
enviar con grandes presentes que le hizo la Religión, y así somos hospedados los bajeles
de Malta y regalados en sus puertos, que, para si estos señores príncipes cristianos
quisiesen emprender la jornada de Jerusalén, tan santa, hay lo más andado en tener estos
puertos y por amigos éstos que ponen treinta mil hombres en campaña, y los más son a
caballo. Entré en el puerto de Surras y, como vieron era de Malta, me regaló el
Gobernador, que no estaba allí el Ami, y me dio refresco.

PRESA EN LA TORTOSA

Pasé la vuelta de Trípol de Suria, gran ciudad, pero a la larga porque no saliesen dos
galeras que hay allí. Fuime a la isla de la Tortosa, que está enfrente de la costa de
Galilea, poco distante; es una isla chica y llana y florida todo el año. Dicen estuvo en
ella escondida Nuestra Señora y San Josefe, de Herodes; yo me remito a la verdad. Aquí
despalmé mis fragatas y comimos muchos palominos, que hay infinitas palomas y
tienen los nidos en unas que debieron de ser antiguamente cisternas.
En todas estas partes ya se deja entender que estaría siempre con buena guarda, la
cual hizo señal que venía un bajel. Fui a verlo y era caramuzal turquesco. Puse en orden
mi gente y al emparejar con la isla le salí al encuentro. Peleó muy bien, que lo saben
hacer los turcos, y al último le rendí, con muerte de cuatro marineros míos y un soldado,
y de ellos trece muertos. Cogí vivos y heridos veintiocho y, entre ellos, un judío con
toda la tienda de bujerías, que era tendero. Estaba cargado de jabón lindo de Chipre y
algún lino. Hice que toda la gente de la otra fragata, se metiese dentro y llevasen la
fragata de remolco, y se fuesen a Malta, porque para dos fragatas me faltaba mucha
gente, y quedéme con la mía bien armada. De allí costeé a Alejandreta, donde estaban
los almoacenes, que saqueamos, y de allí entré en la Caramania, costeándola hasta
Rodas en esta forma: de Alejandreta al Bayaso, de allí a Lengua de Bagaja, y de allí a
Escollo Provenzal, Puerto Cabal1ero, Estanamur y Atalia, Puerto Ginovés, Puerto
Veneciano, Cabo de Silidonia, la Finica
—aquí hay una fortaleza buena—, Puerto Caracol, el Cacamo, Castilrojo, Siete
Cavas, Aguas Frías, la Magra, Rodas, y de allí me fui a la isla de Scarponto, de
donde me engolfé para la isla de Candía. Y en el golfo me dio una borrasca que me hizo
correr dos dias y dos noches camino del Archipiélago, y el primer terreno que tomé fue
una isla que se llama Jarhe, donde dicen está uno de los cuerpos, San Cosme o San
Damián. Diéronme los griegos refresco por mis dineros y, en tomándolo, me partí para
la isla de Estampalia, donde me querían casar.
Entré en el puerto y bajó todo el lugar por mí, pensando venía a cumplir la palabra.
No hubo remedio de saltar en tierra, diciéndoles que quedaban las galeras de Malta, con
quien había venido, en la isla de Pares y que yo me había alargado a verlos y si
habían menester algo. Sintiéronlo mucho y diéronme gran refresco y dijeron cómo,
después que me fui el viaje pasado, habían ido con una barca por el capitán Jacomo
Panaro a la isla y le habían traído y regalado hasta que llegó una tartana francesa, que
venía de Alejandría, y se lo habían dado para que lo llevasen a tierra de cristianos,
habiéndole dado buen refresco y diez cequíes para su camino. Yo me despedí de ellos y
me fui mi viaje. Y en el Golfillo de Nápoles de Romania topé con un caramuzal cargado
de trigo con siete turcos y seis griegos. Los griegos juraban que el trigo era suyo, y con
& tormento confesaron era de turcos. Ecbe los griegos ei tierra y caminé con el
caramuzal a Brazo de Mayna, que hay poco camino. Este Brazo de Mayna es un distrito
de tierra que está en la Morea, asperisimo, y la gente de ella son cristianos griegos. No
tienen habitación ninguna, si no son en grutas y cuevas, y son grandes ladrones. No
tienen superior electo, sino el que es más valiente a ése obedecen, y aunque son
cristianos jamás me parece hacen obras de ello. No ha sido posible el sujetarlos los
turcos, con estar en el centro de su tierra; antes a ellos es a quien hurtan los ganados y se
los venden a otros. Son grandes hombres del arco y las flechas. Yo vi un día que apostó
uno a quitarle una naranja de la cabeza a un hijo suyo con una flecha a veinte pasos, y lo
hizo con tanta facilidad que me espantó. Usan unas adargas como broqueles, pero
no son redondas, y espadas anchas y de cinco palmos y más. Son grandes corredores y
se bautizan cuatro y cinco veces y más, porque los compadres tienen obligación de
presentarlos algo; y así, siempre que pasaba por allí, bautizaba algunos.

AZOTES QUE DI AL COMPADRE DE BRAZO DE MAYNA

Llegué al puerto Cualla, que éste es su nombre, con mi caramuzal de trigo. Luego
vino mi compadre, que se llamaba Antonaque y era el capitán de aquella gente, con su
aljuba de paño fino y sus cuchillos damasquinos con cadenas de plata y su alfanje con
guarnición de plata. En entrando en la fragata, luego me besó; mandé nos diesen de
beber, como era costumbre. Díjele cómo traía aquel caramuzal de trigo, que si me lo
quería comprar. Dijo que sí y concertamosle en ochoclentos cequíes con bajel y todo,
que él solo valía más. Dijo que por la mañana traería el dinero, que se había de recoger,
y a medianoche me cortaron los cabos con que estaba dado fondo y lo llevaron a tierra.
Cuando echamos de ver el daño no tenía ya remedio, porque estaba ya encallado el
bajel.
Amaneció y ya no había casi trigo dentro, que tan buenos trabajadores eran. Vino
luego mi compadre con otros dos, excusándose que él no había tenido culpa, que ya yo
conocía la gente. Yo hice que no se me daba nada y mandé nos diesen almorzar y,
estando almorzando, hice levantar el ferro y salir fuera con mi fragata. Dijo «Compadre,
échame en tierra». Dije «Luego, compadre, que voy a hacer la descubierta». Y en
estando fuera dije «Compadre, fuera ropa», que es decir se desnudase. El dijo que era
traición. Dije «Mayor es la que vos habéis hecho. Pocas palabras y fuera ropa y
agradeced que no os ahorco de aquella entena». Desnudóse en carnes y tendiéronlo
agarrado de cuatro buenos mozos, y le dieron con un cabo embreado más de cien palos,
y luego le hice lavar con vinagre y sal, a usanza de galera, diciendo «Envía por los
ochocientos cequíes o, si no, he de ahorcarte». Vio que iba de veras y envió uno de los
que traía, echándose a nado, que no quise llegar a tierra. Trájolos en un[a] hora y menos,
en un pellejo de un cabrito, con lo cual se fueron a nado, que son bravos nadadores. Y
desde este día me llamaban en Malta y en el Archipiélago el Compadre de Brazo de
Mayna.
Salí de allí la vuelta de la Sapiencia y de allí me engolfé para Malta, donde llegué en
cinco días y se holgaron con mi venida .
Habían vendido el jabón y los esclavos que envié con el caramuzal y la otra fragata.
Hicieron las partes, tocóme buen por qué, con que la quiraca pasaba adelante con su
fábrica de la casa. Entró también en parte los ochocientos cequíes y los siete esclavos
que traía yo. Holgámonos unos días, que no fueron muchos, porque luego me tocaron
arma mandándome despalmar la fragata sin saber para adónde. Es a saber, hubo
nuevas que el Turco armaba una gruesa armada y no sabían para dónde, con que estaban
con cuidado en Malta y usaron de su buen juicio para salir de este cuidado en esta
forma.
Cuando el Gran Turco apresta una armada para fuera de sus tierras, los judíos le
proveen con una cantidad gratis, y cuando es la armada dentro de sus tierras, hacen lo
mismo, pero diferente cantidad. El recogedor del distrito de la Caramania y Constanti-
nopla está en Salónique y este tal sabíamos estaba en una casa fuerte, cinco millas
de la ciudad con su casa, y los señores me dieron orden fuese por él, como si fuera ir a
la plaza por unas peras. Diéronme una espía y un petardo e hice mi partencia en
nombre de Dios.
TRAÍDA DEL JUDÍO DE SALÓNIQUE

Llegué al Golfo de Salónique, no con poco trabajo, que está en el riñón de la
Turquía, pasado el Archipiélago, que tambien toma parte de él. Salté en tierra con
dieciséis hombres y mi petardo y la espía, que me temí harto de él. Llegamos a la casa,
que estaba como una milla de la marina y menos, púsose el petardo, hizo su efecto,
entramos y cogimos el judío, su mujer y dos hijas pequeñas y un criadillo y una vieja,
que los hombres se huyeron. Cargué con ellos al punto, sin dejarlos tomar ni una aljuba
y sin que saquease la gente un trapo, y caminé a la marina, donde por mucha prisa que
me di, tenía, embarcándome, más de cuatrocientos caballos, el agua a los pechos, alan-
ceandome; pero no hicieron nada, que estábamos ya dentro la fragata. Comenzaron a
dar carreras por aquella campaña, y yo saludándolos con mi moyana que echaba cinco
libras de bala.
Ofrecíame el judío todo lo que yo quisiese porque lo dejase con toda la seguridad, y
aunque pude no me atreví, porque luego me dijo para d&nde era la armada, que era
contra los venecianos, y pedíanlos un millón de cequíes o que les tomaría a Candía, que
es una isla tan grande como Sicilia de longitud y está en tierras del turco y sus mares.
Consoléle diciendo vería a Malta.
Viniendo mi viaje topé con una barca de griegos y, preguntando de dónde venían,
dijeron de los despalmadores de Jío. Pregunté si había algunas galeras, dijeron que no
y que se había partido Solimán de Catania, bay de Jío, con su galera bastarda, y que
había dejado a su mujer allí en una recreación. Dijo mi piloto: «¡Juro a Dios que la
hemos de llevar a Malta, que sé esa casa como la mía! Y pues se ha ido anoche Solimán
con la bastarda, estarán descuidados.»

PRESA DE LA HÚNGARA AMIGA DE SOLIMÁN DE CATANIA

Yo no me atrevía, por llevar lo que llevaba. Animóme tanto y asegurómelo, que fue
menos de lo que decía. Aguardamos la noche y a la media en punto desembarcamos con
diez hombres y el piloto, y se fue como a su casa y llamó y habló de parte de Solimán,
como que venía de Jío, y abrieron. Entramos dentro y sin ninguna resistencia cogimos la
turca renegada, húngara de nación, la más hermosa que vi. Cogimos dos putillos y un
renegado y dos cristianos esclavos, de nación corso el uno, y el otro albanés. Cogimos
la cama y ropa sin haber quien nos dijese nada. Embarcámonos y caminamos a más no
poder hasta salir del Archipiélago, que Dios nos dio buen tiempo. La húngara no era
mujer, sino amiga. Regaléla con extremo, que lo merecía. Aunque en rebeldía, supe
que Solimán de Catania había jurado que me había de buscar y, en cogiéndome, había
de hacer a seis negros que se holgasen con mis asentaderas, pareciéndole que yo me
había amancebado con su amiga, y luego me había de empalar. No tuvo tanta dicha en
cogerme, aunque me hizo retratar y poner en diferentes partes de Levante y Berbería,
para que si me cogiesen le avisasen estos retratos. Supe los había llevado de Malta
cuando llevaron la húngara y los putillos rescatados, que fue el segundo año, siendo
proveido por rey de Argel.

LIBRO SEGUNDO

En que se da cuenta de mi venida a España y peregrinos
sucesos que me sucedieron.

CAPÍTULO 6

EN QUE CUENTA CÓMO SALÍ DE MALTA Y FUI A
ESPAÑA, DONDE FUI ALFÉREZ

Yo llegué a Malta, donde fui recibido como se deja considerar, que con el aviso se
quietó todo y dejaron de traer la infantería que habían enviado a hacer a Nápoles y a
Roma, italiana, que la española va de Sicilia en semejantes ocasiones.
Peor le sucedió a mi piloto, que le cogieron dentro de cuatro meses, yendo en corso
en una tartana, y le desollaron vivo e hincharon su pellejo de paja, que oí está sobre la
puerta de Rodas. Era griego, natural de Rodas, y el más práctico en aquellas tierras de
cuantos pilotos hubo.
A estos tiempos, que estaba gastando mi hacienda que tanto me costaba el buscarla,
topé la quiraca con una camarada mía encerrados, a quien estaba haciendo tanto bien.
Dile dos estocadas, de que estuvo a la muerte y, en sanando, se fue de Malta de temor
no le matase, y la quiraca se huyó. Aunque me echaron mil rogadores y rogadoras,
jamás volví con ella, que como había en qué escoger, presto se remedió, y mas, que era
yo pretendido como los oficios de importancia.
Estuve muchos dias de asiento y aún meses en Malta, que fue milagro, hasta que
me enviaron a Berbería con una fragata; y en nueve días fui y vine y truje un garbo
cargado de lienzo, que henchí casi un almacén, y catorce esclavos. Valióme bien esta
presa, y cuando dentro de pocos días llegó al puerto un galeón catalán que venía de
Alejandría cargado de ricas mercadurias para España, y acordándome de mi tierra y
madre a quien jamás había escrito, ni sabía de mí, me resolví de pedir licencia al Gran
Maestre, que me la dio de mala gana, poniendo su rostro con el mío al despedir.
Embarquéme en el galeón (se llamaba «San Juan»), y en seis días llegamos a
Barcelona. Supe que la Corte estaba en Valladolid, y sin ir a Madrid pasé a la Corte,
donde había salido una elección de capitanes. Presenté mis papelillos en Consejo de
Guerra, donde era uno de los Consejeros el señor don Diego Brochero que después
fue Gran Prior de Castilla y León. Cobróme voluntad, aunque tenía noticia de mí, y
díjome si quería ser alférez de una de las compañías que se habían de levantar luego.
Dije que sí y a otro día que fui a verle me dijo fuese a besar las manos al capitán don
Pedro Jaraba del Castillo, por la merced que me había hecho de darme su bandera.

FUI ALFÉREZ

Di mi memorial en el Consejo de Guerra, pidiendo me aprobasen, y en consideración
de mis pocos servicios fue aprobado. Recibí dos tambores, hice una honrada bandera,
compré cajas y mi capitán me dio los despachos y poder para que arbolase la bandera
en la ciudad de Ecija y marquesado de Pliego. Tomé mulas y con el sargento y mis
dos tambores y un criado mío, tomamos el camino de Madrid, a do llegamos en cuatro
días. Fuime [a] apear en casa de mi madre, que había estado dieciséis años sin saber de
mí, y más. Cuando ella vio tantas mulas se espantó. Yo me hinqué de rodillas
pidiéndola su bendición y diciéndole que yo era su hijo Alonsillo. Espantóse la pobre y
estuvo confusa porque se había casado segunda vez y parecióle que un hijo grande y
soldado no lo había de llevar bien, como si el casarse fuera delito, aunque en ella lo era
por tener tantos hijos. Animéla y despedíme, yéndome a una posada, que en su casa no
la había, y aun para ella y su marido era tasada. A otro día me puse muy galán, a lo
soldado, con buenas galas, que las llevaba, y con mi criado detrás con el venablo, fui
a verla y a visitar su marido. Quisieron comiese allí aquel día. Sabe Dios si tenían para
ellos, y así envié bastantemente lo que era menester para la comida, que sobre ella llamé
mis hermanicas, que eran dos, y las di algunas niñerías que traía de estas partes y
asimismo para que las hiciesen de vestir y a los otros tres hermanillos para todos di, que
no me faltaba. Di a mi madre treinta escudos, que le pareció estaba rica, con que la pedí
la bendición y a otro día me partí para Ecija, encomendándola el respeto al nuevo padre.
Llegué a Ecija, túvose ayuntamiento, presenté la patente, salió que se me señalase la
Torre de Palma en que arbolase la bandera. Toqué mis cajas, eché los bandos ordinarios,
comencé a alistar soldados con mucha quietud, que el Corregidor y caballeros me
hacían mucha merced por ello.
Es costumbre haber juego en las banderas, y tenía cuenta del barato un
tamborcillo. Echábalo en una alcancía de barro y a la noche la quebraba y sacaba lo
que había caído, con que comíamos. Un día entraron en el cuerpo de guardia, que era
una sala baja de la torre con una reja a la calle, y entraron cuatro valientes que ya habían
estado otras veces allí y rompieron la alcancía y se pusieron a contar despacio lo que
había dentro, que eran veintisiete reales. Metióselos uno en la faldriquera diciendo al
tamborcillo «Dígale al alférez que estos dineros habíamos menester unos amigos». Con
lo cual el tamborcillo llamó al cabo de escuadra, y cuando vino ya se habían ido.
Topóme el tamborcillo, que venia a darme cuenta de todo, como lo hizo. Mandéle que
se fuese al cuerpo de guarda y que allí me lo contase como había pasado. El tamborcillo
lo hizo, y entrando yo, me dijo «Señor, aquí ha venido Acuña y Amador y otros
camaradas y rompieron el alcancía y sacaron veintisiete reales, diciendo que dijese al
alférez que lo habían menester unos amigos». Yo dije luego «Pícaro, ¿pues qué importa
que esos señores lo llevasen? Todas las veces que vinieren dadles lo que pidieren como
sí fuera para mí, que, pues lo toman, menester lo han». Cuando dije esto había muchos
amigos suyos delante que fueron a contárselo luego, y supe que habian dicho «El
alferecillo, ¡pobrete cuál es!».

PRISIÓN DE LOS VALIENTES

Comencé a imaginar cómo castigar tal desvergüenza hecha en una bandera. Compré
cuatro arcabuces que puse en el cuerpo de guarda, además de doce medias picas que
tenía, y dejé pasar algunos días, con que se aseguraron y entraban en el cuerpo de
guarda. Yo tenía más de ciento veinte soldados, aunque los cien estaban alojados en el
marquesado de Pliego y conmigo tenía veinte, gente vieja a quien socorría, y un día que
estaban en el cuerpo de guarda muy descuidados hice encender cuerdas y que tomasen
los arcabuces y se entrasen tras mí. Para esto llamé la gente más alentada y diles orden
que tirasen si se defendiesen, y a la puerta quedó la demás gente con sus medias picas.
Tomé mi venablo y entrando en la sala dije «El y él y él» —nombrando seis de ellos—
«que son muy grandes ladrones. Desármense». Pensaron era de burlas, y como vieron
las veras, comenzaron a querer meter mano a las espadas, pero los arcabuceros entraron
con sus cuerdas caladas, diciendo «Acaben», con que se fueron desarmando. Y
habiéndolo hecho, los fui desnudando en camisa y, atraillados, con toda la guarda, los
llevé y entregué al Corregidor, que era don Fabián de Monroy, que cuando vio los
ladrones, daba saltos de contento diciendo «Este me mató un perro de ayuda y éste me
mató un criado». Lleváronlos a la cárcel y de allí a trece días ahorcó los dos, sin que
bastase cuanta nobleza había en aquella ciudad, que hay mucha. A mí me quedaron las
capas y espadas y coletos, muy buenos jubones y medias y ligas, sombreros y dos
jubones agujeteados famosos, y algún dinerillo que tenía encima, con que socorrí y
vestí algunos pobres soldados. Esta fue la paga de mis veintisiete reales.

JORNADA A LA PUTERÍA DE CÓRDOBA

Luego supe cómo, en son de pedir limosna, andaban unos soldados, que no lo
eran, por los cortijos, robando en campaña. Tomé mis cuatro arcabuceros y una gentil
mula y fui a buscarlos. Tuve noticia estaban en Córdoba. Fui allá, donde se levantaba
otra compañía del capitán Molina. Apeéme en el Mesón de las Rejas y fuime solo a la
casa pública, por ver si los topaba, conforme las señas, y por ver aquella casa. Estando
hablando con una de las muchas que había, llegó a mí un gentilhombre sin vara con un
criado, y dijo «¿Cómo trae ese coleto?», que era de ante. Dije «Puesto». Dijo «Pues
quítesele». Respondí «No quiero». El criado dijo «Pues yo se lo quitaré». Iba a ponerlo
por obra; fue fuerza sacar la espada, que ellos no fueron perezosos a hacerlo, pero yo fui
más pronto, pues herí malamente al Alguacil Mayor, con que todas las mujeres cerraron
las puertas, y la de la calle también. Quedéme dueño de la calle, que era angostísima, y
no sabiendo qué hacerme, porque era la primera vez que entraba en semejantes casas,
fuime hacia la puerta de la calle, que estaba cerrada con golpe. Y aún no hallaba a quién
preguntar, porque al herido lo llevaron dentro o se fue, que debía de saber la casa.
Y casi luego oí dar golpes a la puerta, que se halló un picarillo a abrirla con tanta
diligencia que no supe de dónde había salido. Entró de golpe el Corregidor con tanta
gente como se deja entender, y queriendo arremeter conmigo, dije «Repórtese
vuesamerced», con la espada en la mano. Y entonces lo mismo era que hubiera mil que
uno, porque no cabían más en la calle, dando voces «¡Prendedle!». Nadie lo quería
hacer, y cierto que hubiera una desdicha si no viniera con el Corregidor el capitán
Molina, que me conoció y dijo «Repórtese vuesamerced, señor alférez». Como le oí
hablar, conocíle y dije «Haga vuesa merced que esos señores lo hagan, que por mí aquí
estoy». El Corregidor, como oyó nombrar alférez, dijo «¿De quién es alférez?». Dijo
Molina «De la compañía que se levanta en Ecija». Respondió el Corregidor «¿Y es
bueno que venga a matar aquí la justicia?». Yo le dije todo lo que había pasado.
Mandóme me fuese a Ecija luego. Dije que si haría, que había venido en busca de unos
soldados que eran ladrones, con que nos despedimos y se fue con el capitán y su gente.
Yo me volví al mesón para tratar de mi viaje cuando me dijo uno de mis cuatro
soldados «Aquí buscan a vuesamerced dos hidalgos». Salí y dije «¿Qué mandan
vuesasmercedes?». Respondió el uno «¿Es vuançé el alférez?». Dije «Sí, ¿qué
quiere?». Y con los dedos abiertos, frotándose el bigote, comenzó: «Llos hombre de
bien, como vuançé, es justo llos conozcamos para servillos. Aquí nos envía una mujer
de bien, que su hombre se lo ahorcaron en Granada por testigos falsos. Ha quedado
viuda y está desempeñada y no mal fardada. Hale parecido vuançé bien y le ruega
vaya a cenar esta noche con ella.» Para mí todo lo que me dijo era latín, que no entendía
aquellos términos ni lenguaje. Díjeles «Suplico a vuesasmercedes me digan qué ha visto
esa señora en mí que me quiere hacer merced». Respondió «¿Es poco haber vuançe
reñido como un jayán hoy y herido a un alguacil, el mayor ladrón que hay en
Córdoba?». Entonces eché de ver que era mujer de la casa, con que les dije que yo
estimaba la merced, pero que estaba en vísperas de ser capitán y me podía atrasar mis
pretensiones, que me holgara de no tenerlas para hacer lo que me pedían, con lo cual los
despedí y me fui a poner a caballo. Amanecí en Ecija, fuime a mi cuerpo de guarda,
hallé mi gente sosegada sin que hubiese habido desórdenes, de que no me holgué poco.
De allí a tres días vino un soldado y dijo «Señor alférez, en el Mesón del Sol está una
mujer que busca a vuesamerced y ha venido de fuera. No tiene mal parecer». Fui allá,
que era mozo, y vi la mujer, que la tenía el huésped en su aposento. No me pareció mala
la moza, y comenzando a tratar de dónde venía, dijo que de Granada, huyendo de su
marido, y que se quería amparar de mí sin que la viese nadie. A mí me había parecido
bien. Trájela a mi casa, regaléla, teniéndola escondida, y prometo que estaba casi
enamorado cuando un día me dijo: «Señor, quisiera descubrirle un secreto, y no me
atrevo.» Apretéla, rogándoselo me lo dijese, y tomándome la palabra que no me
enojaría, comenzó: «Señor, yo vi a vuesamerced un día, tan bizarro y alentado en la casa
de Córdoba cuando desenfadado hirió aquel ladrón de alguacil, que me obligó a venirme
tras vuesamerced, viendo que no quiso aquella noche cenar conmigo, habiéndoselo
enviado a suplicar con unos hombres de bien. Y aunque después de haber quedado sola,
por haber ahorcado en Granada a un hombre que tenía, he sido requerida de muchos de
fama, me pareció no podía ocupar mi lado...» ¡ninguno mejor que yo!, representándome
que en toda el Andalucía no había mujer de mejor ganancia, como lo diría el padre de la
casa de Ecija. Quedéme absorto cuando la oí y, como la quería bien, no me pareció
mal nada de lo que dijo; antes me pareció que había hecho fineza grande por mí en
venirme a buscar y solicitar.
Vino el Comisario a tomar muestra y socorrer la compañía para que marchásemos.
Recogí la que tenía en el marquesado de Pliego y en toda di de muestra ciento noventa y
tres soldados. Marchamos la vuelta de Extremadura para ir a Lisboa, con mucho gusto.
Yo llevaba mi moza con más autoridad que si fuera hija de un señor, y cierto que
quien no sabía que había estado en la casa pública le obligaba a respeto, porque era
moza y hermosa y no boba.

CAPÍTULO 7

EN QUE SE SIGUE LOS SUCESOS DE ALFÉREZ

Alcanzónos mi capitán, que desde la Corte había ido a su tierra y se había detenido
hasta entonces que supo cómo marchaba la infantería. Hallónos en Llerena y holgó de
ver tan buena compañía y dijo que se espantaba hubiese sabido gobernar gente bisoña.
Quedamos muy amigos, además que yo le sabía granjear.

SEGUNDA JORNADA

Vino orden nos entretuviésemos en Extremadura sin entrar en Portugal, con que la
aramos de barra a barra. Llegamos a una tierra que se llamaba Hornachos, que toda
era entonces de moriscos, fuera del cura, y estando alojado en casa de uno de ellos,
donde tenía mi bandera y cuerpo de guarda, llegó un soldado que se llamaba Bilches y
me dijo «¡Ah, señor alférez!, yo he hallado una trovadura». Díjele «¿Cómo?».
Respondió «Yo estoy alojado en una casa que no ha habido remedio a darme de cenar,
porque dice que no tiene más de arrope e higos; y buscando por la casa si había
gallinas, entré en un aposento que estaba a lo último de la casa, donde habia un tapador
en el suelo, redondo, como silo. Escarbé y hallé que era postizo. Levantéle y estaba
oscuro abajo. Y, pensando habría allí las gallinas escondidas, encendí una candelilla que
llevaba en la bolsa y bajé, que había una escalera de mano. Cuando me vi abajo me
arrepentí, porque, arrimados a las paredes, había tres sepulcros muy blancos y la bóveda
también blanca. Sospecho que están enterrados allí algunos de estos moros. Si
vuesamerced quiere que vamos, no puede dejar de (si son entierros), que no tengan
joyas, que éstos se entierran con ellas». Yo dije «Vamos».

CUEVA DE ARMAS DE HORNACHOS

Y tomando mi venablo nos fuimos los dos solos y entramos en la casa y pedimos una
vela. La huéspeda, afligida viéndome en su casa, nos la dio, que no estaba el huésped en
ella. Bajamos al silo, y como yo vi los sepulcros, juzgué lo que el soldado, y con la
punta del venablo comencé a hurgar y en un punto se despegó la tabla que estaba debajo
de la cal, y era una caja grande, hecha aposta, de madera, y por de fuera estaba de cal,
que parecía sepulcro. Estaba lleno de arcabuces y bolsas con balas, de que recibí gran
consuelo y contento, por parecerme que de aquellas armas armarían mi compañía y nos
tendrían más respeto por donde pasábamos, porque como íbamos con espadicas solas, y
alguno sin ellas, en muchos lugares nos perdían el respeto. Abrílos todos y eran lo
mismo. Díjele al soldado «Vuesamerced se quede aquí hasta que dé cuenta al
Comisario». Y así lo hice, porque fui al punto y se lo dije. El se vino conmigo con su
alguacil y secretario, y viendo los sepulcros me dijo a mí y al soldado «Vuesamerced ha
hecho un gran servicio al rey. Váyase a su casa y no le salga de la boca esto, porque
importa», y al soldado lo mismo. Fuímonos a mi casa y dijo el soldado «Señor, que es
mi posada ésta y no he cenado». Diole ocho reales para que se fuese al mesón, con que
el soldado fue más contento que la Pascua. Yo quise dar cuenta a mi capitán, pero no
quise; lo uno porque me había encargado el secreto y lo otro porque no estaba bien con
él, porque andaba solicitándome la moza.
A la mañana, muy de mañana, me envió un recado el capitán con las cajas, que
habíamos de marchar; que me espanté, porque habíamos de estar allí tres días. Hícelo y
marchamos y, estando de partencia, me dijo el Comisario «Vaya vuesamerced cón Dios,
que a fe, si no tuvieran una cédula real para poder tener armas ofensivas y defensivas,
que no había sido malo el lance. Pero con todo, vuesamerced no diga nada».
Partimos a un lugar que se llama Palomas, y estuvimos dos días, y luego partimos
a otro que llaman Guareña, donde tuvieron los soldados con la gente de la tierra una
reñida pendencia, que hubo tres muertos, y heridos de una y otra parte. Y en la
pendencia decían los soldados a voces: «¡Cuerpo de Cristo, no estuviéramos armados de
las armas de Hornachos!», que el soldado lo había ya dicho a sus camaradas y aún yo lo
dije más de cuatro veces.
Apaciguóse la pendencia y fuímonos de allí, donde llegó el Comisario a castigarlos
dentro de pocos días. El Comisario era un capitán del número; no se dice su nombre
por algún respeto, y en el discurso de este libro hallarán la polvareda que levantó estos
sepulcros de armas, que queda hasta que le toque su vez.
Mi capitán deseaba holgarse con la mujer que yo llevaba, y aunque se lo había hecho
saber con recados a la mujer, no pudo conseguir nada, que tan buena se había hecho
siendo tan mala. Y llegando a un lugar que se llama El Almendralejo, después de
alojada la compañía, que era casi noche, cené y mandé acostar la mujer, que iba preñada
en tres meses. Envióme a llamar el capitán y dijo «Vuesamerced tome ocho soldados y
vaya al camino de Alange y estése emboscado, porque por ese camino se han de huir
esta noche cuatro soldados, que lo sé cierto por aviso que me han dado». Yo lo creí y,
mandando ensillar una jaca que tenía, me partí dejando acostada la mujer. Y sabiendo el
capitán que yo era partido, se vino a mi posada y entró a visitar a la Isabel de Rojas, que
así se llamaba, y de lance en lance quiso echarse con ella. La mujer se resistió tanto que
la obligó a dar voces y el capitán, como vio esto, arrebató de un mallo que tenía en el
aposento —que yo me deleitaba de jugar al mallo—, y la dio tantos palos que fue
menester entrar la guarda y el huésped a quitársela. Fue de suerte que luego quebró en
sangre y malparió dentro de tres horas.
Yo, descuidado en el campo aguardando los que se huían, vi que ya no había dos
horas hasta el día y dije «Señores, vámonos, que basta la burla, si es que me la ha hecho
el capitán, porque si se habían de huir había de ser a prima noche».
Llegué a mi casa y, entrando en el aposento, hallé quejándose a Isabel. Pregunté qué
tenía y díjome que aquella tarde había caído del pollino y que había quebrado en sangre
y aún malparido. A esto vi que andaban algunos soldados hablándose al oído y diome
alguna sospecha. Apreté a la mujer y dije me dijera la causa. No fue posible, sino lo
dicho. Salí acá fuera y llamé un soldado de quien me fiaba, y preguntéle si había habido
algo. Respondió «Señor, tan gran bellaquería no es posible que se calle. Aquí llegó el
capitán y ha puesto a la señora Isabel como está por ser mujer de bien. Y ¡voto a Dios!
que yo ni mis camaradas no hemos de estar mañana a estas horas en la compañía, que a
él no le conocemos, que vuesamerced nos sacó de nuestras casas». Díjeles
«Vuesamerced se reporte, que si el capitán ha hecho algo, Isabel le debió dar ocasión».
«No, ¡voto a Dios!, sino porque no se quiso echar con él.»

HERIDA DEL CAPITÁN

Con esto mandé echasen cebada a la jaca y compuse un portamanteo con un poco
de dinero y mis papeles, y fuime en casa del capitán, que ya amanecia, y llamé a la
puerta. Respondióme un criado flamenco que se llamaba Claudio. Díjome que su amo
dormía, que no le podía despertar. Dije que había un correo de Madrid, con que avisó a
su amo y dijo que aguardasen. Vistióse, no del todo, y mandó que entrase. Entré y,
empuñando la espada, le dije que era ruin caballero en lo que había hecho y que le había
de matar. El metió mano a una espada y broquel, pero como la razón tiene gran fuerza,
le di una estocada en el pecho que di con él en tierra. Dijo «¡Ay, que me ha muerto!». El
criado quiso ayudar, pero no le valió, que al salir llevó un trasquilón en la cabeza.
Tomé mi jaca y fuime camino de Cáceres, donde tenía unos amigos caballeros del
Hábito de San Juan y contéles el caso.
Avisaron luego al Comisario, que vino volando. Y supe había hecho información
contra mí y en virtud de ella me condenó a cortar la cabeza por el haber ido a matar a mi
capitán a su casa, que es el mayor delito que hay en la milicia el perder el respeto a los
superiores. Envió la información a Madrid y toda estaba en mi favor, si no es el haber
perdido la obediencia al capitán, el cual sanó de su herida, aunque pasó gran riesgo de la
vida. Escribí al señor don Diego Brochero y mandóme que me presentase en la Corte,
que él lo acabaría. Hícelo aconsejado de aquellos caballeros.
La mujer, después de convaleciente, la dio el concejo del Almendralejo con que
fuese, de allí a Badajoz, que desde allí sabría lo que había de hacer, porque no supo de
mí en muchos días, donde abrió tienda en casa de su padre y madre, que no es de las
peores casas de Extremadura.
Yo llegué a Madrid y fui en casa del señor don Diego Brochero, el cual había visto la
información en el Consejo de Guerra y había hallado a todos los consejeros de mi parte.
Mandó me presentase en la cárcel de la Villa y que de allí diese un memorial al
Consejo: cómo estaba preso a orden del Consejo, que suplicaba mandasen ver la
información y que lo que había hecho con el capitán no era por cosas tocantes al
servicio del rey. Estimaron mucho esta acción de que me presentase preso y luego diese
memorial. Diéronme un despacho para el señor don Cristóbal de Mora, que era
Virrey y Capitán General de Portugal, porque no supe lo que era, aunque el señor don
Diego Brochero me dijo que fuese contento, que buen despacho llevaba, y a fe que iba
con harto miedo.
Las compañías se estaban despacio en Extremadura. Yo fui por algunos lugares
donde había pasado y me hicieron mucha merced, porque siempre procuré hacer bien y
no mal. Llegué al Almendralejo y hablé a los alcaldes y me regalaron. Díjeles cómo
llevaba aquella orden del rey y pregunté por Isabel. Dijeron que la habían enviado a
Badajoz, donde ella quiso ir después de convaleciente, y que les había pesado de lo que
había sucedido; que a otro día no había quedado la mitad de los soldados, porque se
fueron todos. Después supieron cómo no tenía veinte soldados de más de ciento
cincuenta. Y fue verdad, que no entró en Lisboa con más de catorce soldados y un
atambor.
Despedíme de los alcaldes y fui a Badajoz, que todavía me duraba el amor. Topé a
Isabel ganando en la casa pública, y cuando me vio entrar en ella al punto se levantó y
cerró la puerta y me dijo «¡Ah, señor galán!, suplico a vuesamerced una palabra».
Llevome en casa del padre y comenzó a llorar. Dije «¿Por qué llora?». Dijo «Porque
había tenido dicha ver a vuesamerced y, aunque estoy aquí, no he dormido con hombre
después que faltó vuesamerced». Saltó la madre y dijo «Y como que soy buen testigo de
eso, y que me han regalado más de cuatro caballeros de la ciudad porque se la diese [a]
alguno, lo cual no he podido alcanzar con Isabel; pero cierto que ha tenido razón en
guardar respeto a un mozo como vuesamerced». «Beso a vuesamerced las manos,
señora, por el favor», dije yo. Y tratando con Isabel de nuestros negocios, me dijo que
tenía seiscientos reales y buena ropa: ¿qué quería que hiciésemos? Dije que irnos a
Lisboa. Quedamos de acuerdo el hacerlo. Yo me fui aquella noche a una posada y ella
se vino a dormir y cenar conmigo.

BADAJOZ CON EL CORREGIDOR

Algunos que la pretendían quisieron darnos mala noche, porque trajeron al
Corregidor a la posada, diciendo era yo el mayor rufián que había en España. En suma,
llegó al mejor sueño y, como los hombres parecen diferente[s] desnudos que vestidos,
comenzo a tratarme como a rufián, y para llevarme a la cárcel era necesario vestirme.
Después que lo hube hecho le dije «Señor Corregidor, mientras no conoce vuesamerced
a las personas no las agravia». Y díjele quién era, que ya me conocía por lo sucedido en
El Almendralejo, y cómo aquélla era la mujer por quien había sucedido lo del capitán y
cómo llevaba aquella orden del Consejo. Holgóse mucho de oírme y conocerme.
Pidióme perdón, diciendo le habían dicho que era el mayor rufián de España. Rogóme
que me quedase en mi posada y que me fuese a Lisboa lo más presto que pudiese, que si
había menester algo, me lo daría. Yo se lo agradecí, con que se fue y yo me torné a
acostar. Estuve dos días en aquella ciudad, que me miraban como a toro, no dejando
volver a Isabel a la casa, donde la trajo el padre su ropa, con harto pesar que se le iba
tal hija.
Fuimos a Lisboa con mucho gusto. Estuvimos más de veinte días sin que viniesen las
compañías, y al cabo de ellos llegó la mía con otras cuatro y, antes que desembarcasen,
fui a dar el despacho al señor don Cristóbal de Mora, que me hizo mucha merced y dijo
«Vaya a los barcos, y entre con su compañía». Dije que el capitán podría hacer alguna
cosa por no nos haber visto desde que le herí. Mandó a un ayudante que le llevase un
recado. Hízolo y dijo que quería hablar al General. Fue y díjole que tuviese paciencia,
que lo mandaba el rey, pero que presto se acabaría el estar yo con él. Desembarcamos la
bandera que se había embarcado en Alcántara y marchamos al castillo, donde nos
tomaron muestra, y en ella reformaronI mi compañía, con lo cual quedamos apartados
el Capitán y yo.
Diome licencia el señor don Cristóbal de Mora para la Corte y una paga, con que me
fui con Dios luego y llegué a Valladolid, donde me dieron ocho escudos de ventaja
para Sicilia y me fui a servir, trayendo a Isabel conmigo hasta Valladolid, donde murió
en su oficio, ¡Dios la haya perdonado!
Vineme a Madrid, vi a mi madre y pedíla su bendición, y con ella me partí para
Barcelona y allí me embarqué en un bajel cargado de paños y llegué a Palermo en diez
días.
Gobernaba el señor duque de Feria el año de 1604 aquel reino. Senté mi ventaja en la
compañía del capitán don Alonso Sánchez de Figueroa.
Quiso el duque armar unos galeones para enviar en corso y, sabiendo que yo era
práctico, me rogó quisiese capitanearlos. Hícelo y partí para Levante donde le traje
una jerma cargada del bien del mundo, de lo que se carga en Alejandría y más otro
galeoncillo inglés que había tres años que andaba hurtando, en el cual había hartas cosas
curiosas. Lo que hubo en el discurso de este viaje dejo, por no enfadar con más cosas de
Levante.
Con lo que me tocó de esta presa me encabalgué, que estaba sobrado. Mudé la
plaza a la compañía del señor marqués de Villalba, hijo primogénito del duque.

CAPÍTULO 8

EN QUE SE CUENTA LA PÉRDIDA DEL SEÑOR
ADELANTADO DE CASTILLA EN LA MAHOMETA,
DONDE YO ESTUVE.

Ordenóse una jornada para Berbería en las galeras de Sicilia y Malta, cuatro de Malta
y seis de Sicilia, a cargo del Adelantado de Castilla, que era general de aquella
escuadra y le costó la vida en esta forma. Partimos para Berbería diez galeras, como
tengo dicho, y a las de Sicilia mandó el Adelantado que dejásemos las cajas de los
coseletes en Mesina por ir más ligeras. Llegamos a una isla que está ocho millas de
tierra firme de Berbería (llámase el Cinbano), donde se hizo Consejo de Guerra y
salió resuelto echásemos gente en tierra en una ciudad que se llama La Mahometa, que
los años atrás habíamos tomado con las galeras de Malta. Llegamos a dos leguas de la
ciudad, víspera de Nuestra Señora de Agosto, 1605, al amanecer. Echamos la gente en
tierra para ir marchando por unos arenales que hay hasta la ciudad, donde llegamos el
sol salido más de un[a] hora, a buena vista. Fui uno de los alféreces reformados que
llevaba las escalas a cuestas, que eran siete. Hízose un escuadrón de quinientos
hombres, todos españoles, con chuzos y arcabuceros, pero sin coseletes. Arrimamos
las escalas con el valor que semejante gente tiene, españoles y caballeros de Malta, y
por las escalas subimos, cayendo unos y subiendo otros. En suma, se ganó la muralla y
degollamos la guarnición de los revellines, en que se hicieron fuertes algunos de los
genízaros que estaban allí de presidio.
Abrióse la puerta, por donde entró toda la gente, excepto la del escuadrón que estaba
fuera, que debió de ser otros setecientos hombres, y prometo que no cabíamos en las
calles, que son tan angostas como caña y media, que son tres varas. Cogiéronse algu-
nos moros y moras, aunque pocos, por haberse escondido en los silos que tiene cada
casa. Había en la tierra algún trigo que quiso embarcar el Adelantado y aún lo mandó.
Fuera había unas huertas con sus norias, donde había algunos moros y algunos caballos,
que no llegaban a quince y los de a pie a ciento, los cuales estaban a raya con el
escuadroncillo. Las escalas no se habían quitado de la muralla, que fue la total ruina. Y
al cabo de un rato se tocó la trompeta a recoger, sin saber quién se lo hubiese
mandado.
Con lo cual comenzó cada uno a cargar con los malos trapos que había buscado y se
iban a embarcar a las galeras, que habían venido a la tierra muy cerca, a tiro de cañón.
La gente se comenzó a embarcar sin más orden. Cuando se lo dijeron al Adelantado,
dijo quién lo había mandado. No se halló quien, y sin poderlos detener pasaron adelante
con su viaje, tanto que el escuadrón hizo lo mismo. Viendo que todos se iban a
embarcar se deshizo, sin saber quién lo mandase y corriendo a la marina sin haber alma
que fuese tras ellos, con que vinimos a hallarnos a la lengua del agua todos los mil
doscientos hombres. Con que los moros que estaban en las huertas subieron por las
escalas nuestras, que estaban en uno de los cuatro lienzos que tenía la tierra, sin ver la
puerta (que estaba en otro) ya abierta. Comenzaron a salir de los silos los moros
escondidos y de la muralla nos acribillaban con la artillería, que aún no fuimos para
desencabalgarla o clavarla. Pero si tenía Dios dispuesto lo que nos sucedió, ¿cómó
habíamos de tener juicio, pues nos lo quitó a todos este día?
En este punto se levantó tan gran borrasca que se pensaron perder las galeras, y era
contraria, que venía de la mar. La gente de a caballo que estaba en las huertas con
algunos de a pie, rompió con los que estábamos a la marina, e hicieron tan gran
matanza que es increíble, sin haber hombre de nosotros que hiciese resistencia, siendo
los nuestros casi toda la gente dicha, y ellos no llegaban a ciento y sin bocas de fuego,
sólo con lanzas y alfanges y porras de madera cortas. Miren si fue milagro conocido y
castigo que nos tenía guardado Dios por su justo juicio.
Toda esta gente que estábamos en la marina, unos se echaron al agua y otros a la
tierra, de ellos mismos huyendo, tanto que vi un esquife encallado en el seco con más
de treinta personas dentro, que les parecía estaban seguros por estar dentro el esquife,
sin mirar que estaban encallados y que era imposible el desencallarse con tanta gente, y
aun sin nadie, dentro. Ahogóse mucha gente que no sabían nadar y yo me había metido
en el agua vestido como estaba, adonde me daba poco más de la cintura y tenía encima
una jacerina que me había prestado el cómitre de mi galera, que valía cincuenta
escudos, con que se armaba en Sicilia cuando iba a reñir. Pesaba más de veinte libras y
pude desnudarme y quitármela e irme a nado a galera, que hacia fortuna porque nado
como un pescado, pero estaba tan fuera de mí que no me acordaba y estaba embelesado
mirando cómo seis morillos estaban degollando los que estaban en el esquife sin que
ninguno se defendiese, y después que lo hubieron hecho, los echaron a la mar y se
metieron en el esquife, desencallándole, con que fueron matando a todos los que estaban
en el agua e iban nadando, sin querer tomar ninguno a vida. La tierra no dejaba de tirar
artillería y escopetazos, con que hacían gran daño.
De las galeras habían señalado marineros en los esquifes para recoger la gente que
pudiesen y no osaban llegar porque, como la borrasca era de fuera, temían no encallar
en el bajo y perderse en uno de éstos. Venía por cabo el dueño de la jacerina y
conocióme en una montera morada que tenía con unas trencillas de oro y en la ropilla
que era morada y, dándome voces que me arrojase, que ellos me recogerían afuera, lo
hice sin quitarme nada de encima; disparate grande. Nadé como veinte pasos y me
ahogaba con el peso y la gran borrasca que había. El cómitre, por no perder su jacerina,
embistió conmigo y cogióme de un brazo y metióme dentro con harta agua que había
bebido. Y otro pobre soldado que, medio ahogado, agarró del esquife y lo remolcaba a
tierra con la mar, hasta que le cortaron la mano porque le soltase, con que se ahogó, que
me hizo harta lástima, pero todo fue menester para salvar el esquife. Llevóme a galera,
donde los pies arriba y la cabeza abajo, vomité el agua bebida.
MUERTE DEL ADELANTADO DE CASTILLA EN LA MAHOMETA, 1605

El Adelantado, viendo esta desdicha, fuese a embarcar a su faluga que tenía. Y un
capitán de infantería, camarada suya, dentro de guarda, como vio la gran desorden y la
borrasca, se fue a galera. Dicen que le llamaba a voces el Adelantado por su nombre,
apellidándole camarada, que el nombre no digo por su infamia que hizo, y sin volver a
tierra se fue y dejó al buen señor donde se ahogó queriendo nadar, y el esquife de la
Capitana lo embarcó, que lo conoció; pero cuando lo hizo ya estaba ahogado. Trajéronlo
a la Capitana. Yo le vi tendido encima de una mala alfombra en la popa de la Capitana
de Sicilia, con el vestido como estaba en tierra, sin herida ninguna, sólo la cara
denegrida y acardenalada, que consideré qué cosa sea el ser gran señor o pobre soldado,
que aun el ser General no le bastó para salvarse en aquella ocasión donde se salvaron
otros, aunque pocos, que de toda la infantería del tercio de Sicilia que venía embarcada
no quedaron más de setenta y dos, siendo más de ochocientos los que veníamos
embarcados. De las cuatro galeras de Malta pereció a este respecto también, que no supe
el número.
Vi al Adelantado, como he dicho, porque en mi galera no había oficial de la
compañía ni soldados más de seis conmigo, y díjome el capitán de la galera que fuese a
las demás a ver si topaba algún soldado de los nuestros que se hubiese salvado en
alguna de las otras galeras. Tomé el esquife, que había querido Dios aplacar su ira con
tantas muertes y con la del Adelantado, porque estaba la mar como una leche blanca, no
habiendo habido de tiempo en ganar la tierra y perderla y la borrasca tres horas cabales.
Llegué a la Capitana y no hallé soldado ninguno más que el alférez, que todos
saltaron en tierra sin banderas. Y entonces vi al Adelantado, como he dicho. Volvíme a
mi galera, que iba zarpando, y es de considerar que en este poco tiempo estaba también
la marina como si no hubiera habido allí aquella gran matanza. No quisieron tomar vivo
ningún cristiano, que todos los mataron, si no fueron algunos que se escondieron en
unas tinajas grandes como en las que echan vino en España, que se hacen allí, y había
muchas arrimadas a una puerta falsa de la tierra; pero no fueron treinta éstos.
Al maese de campo nuestro, que era un caballero del Hábito de Calatrava, que
llamaban don Andrés de Silva, le cogieron vivo y, sobre quien le había de llevar, le
cortaron por medio, vivo, para dar a cada uno la mitad, que fue lástima cuando lo oímos
decir. A los muertos cortaron las cabezas y quemaron los cuerpos, y a los que cogieron
vivos les pusieron a cada uno una sarta de cabezas y una media pica en la mano con otra
cabeza hincada en la punta, y de esta manera entraron en Túnez triunfando. Este fin
tuvo aquella desdichada jornada. Partimos para Sicilia y en el camino se apartaron las
galeras de Malta para Malta, que estaban cerca. Nosotros llegamos a Palermo con los
fanales de las galeras cubiertos de luto y las tiendas hechas, con ser por agosto,
bogando sin concierto, que ponía dolor a quien lo veía, y más viniendo tantas barcas a
preguntar, quién por su marido, y por hijo, y por camarada y amigos, y era fuerza
responder «Son muertos», porque era verdad, que los alaridos de la mujeres hacían
llorar los remos de las galeras.
Sacaron de noche el cuerpo del Adelantado y llevaron a una iglesia con muchas
hachas, que no me acuerdo cómo se llamaba la iglesia, y dejaron depositado hasta
llevarlo a España.
Al capitán que le llevó la faluga al Adelantado hicieron proceso, y un hermano suyo
que estaba en Palermo en puesto grande, viendo que le habían de dar muerte infame por
lo escrito, le dio una noche veneno y amaneció muerto, hinchado como una bota. Ya he
dicho que no digo su nombre, porque era muy conocido.

CASAMIENTO

Rehízose mi compañía y enviáronme alojar a Monreal, legua y media de Palermo, y
estábalo yo en casa de un hornero o panadero que tenía una jaquilla de portante y
gorda. Prestábamela todos los días e iba a Palermo y volvíame a Monreal. Estaba yo
entonces buen mocetón y galán, que daba envidia. En la calle por donde entraba de
Monreal vivía una señora española, natural de Madrid, viuda de un oidor, con quien
vino casada. Era hermosa y no pobre, y siempre que pasaba por allí la veía en la
ventana, que me parecía estaba con cuidado. Supe quién era y envié un recado: que yo
era de Madrid, que si a su merced la podía servir en algo, que me lo mandase, que más
obligación tenía yo, por ser de su tierra, que no otros. Agradeciómelo y dio licencia que
la visitase. Hícelo con mucho cumplimiento y regalábala con frutas de Monreal, que son
las mejores del reino. De lance en lance tratamos de amor y de matrimonio, aunque
diferente estado [era] el haberle tenido con un letrado y oidor, con fausto, o con un
soldado que no tenía más que cuatro golillas, y doce escudos de paga, aunque era
alférez reformado. Venimos a tratar de veras el casamiento entre los dos, y dije «Señora,
yo no podré sustentar coche ni tantos criados como tiene vuesamerced, aunque merece
mucho más». Dijo que no importaba, que se contentaría con una silla y dos criadas y
dos criados. Con lo cual pedimos licencia al arzobispo para casarnos en una ermita y
nos la dio, que esto se hizo con secreto, de que le pesó al duque de Feria cuando lo
supo, porque la tenía por encomendada del duque de Arcos.
Estuvimos casados con mucho gusto más de año y medio, queriéndonos el uno al
otro. Y cierto que era tanto el respeto que la tenía que, a veces, fuera de casa, no me
quería cubrir la cabeza delante de ella; tanto la estimaba, en suma. Yo tenía un amigo
que le hubiera fiado el alma. Entraba en mi casa como yo mismo y fue tan ruin que, no
mirando a la gran amistad que había entre los dos, comenzó a poner los ojos en mi
mujer, que yo tanto amába y, aunque yo veía algunas cosas de más cuidado en el
hombre de lo ordinario, no pensé en tal cosa hasta que un pajecillo que tenía me dijo
«Señor, ¿en España los parientes besan a las mujeres de los otros parientes?». Dije
«¿Por qué lo dices?». Respondió «Porque fulano besa a la señora y le mostró las ligas».
Dije yo «En España se usa, que si no, no lo hiciera fulano» —que no quiero nombrarle
por su nombre a ella ni a él—, «pero no lo digas a nadie más. Si ves que lo hace otra
vez, dímelo para que yo se lo diga». El chiquillo me lo dijo otra vez y, en suma, yo, que
no dormía, procuré andar al descuido con cuidado, hasta que su fortuna los trajo a que
los cogí juntos una mañana y se murieron. Téngalos Dios en el cielo si en aquel
trance se arrepintieron. Las circunstancias son muchas y esto lo escribo de mala gana.
Sólo diré que de cuanta hacienda había no tomé un dinero, más de mis papeles de mis
servicios, y la hacienda gozó un hijo del primer marido.

CAPÍTULO 9

CÓMO ME FUI A ESPAÑA Y EN ELLA ME
LEVANTARON ERA REY DE LOS MORISCOS, DONDE
TUVE MUCHO TRABAJO

Fuime a España y a la Corte a tratar de mis pretensiones. Metiéronme en relación
de capitanes y, vacando la Sargentía Mayor de Cerdeña, me la dieron, habiéndome
consultado el Consejo en ella.
Y queriéndomela barajar don Rodrigo Calderón, que esté en el cielo, para un
hermano de un criado suyo, hizo que me pusiesen en la patente «a beneplácito del
Gobernador o Capitán General», cosa jamás vista. Hablé al secretario Gasol sobre ello y
encogióse de hombros. Tomé una mula y fuime al Escorial a hablar al Rey don Felipe
Tercero, que esté en el cielo, y remitióme a don Rodrigo Calderón, que entonces no
era más el año 1608. Yo respondí al Rey «Señor, don Rodrigo es el que ha hecho poner
en la patente el con qué. Díjome casi enojado «Yo os haré despachar». Fui a hablar a
don Rodrigo y sabía ya cuanto había pasado con el Rey, con que me dijo «¿Cómo sabe
que yo he mandado poner en la patente el con qué? ¡Vaya, vaya!».

HERIDA AL ESCRIBANO EN EL ESCORIAL

Salí de allí, y de allí a una hora llegaron a mí dos hombres y dijeron «Venga
vuesamerced con nosotros». Parecióme imperio de justicia, aunque no traía vara, y
como yo había tenido con el Rey y don Rodrigo lo dicho, acabé de creer era justicia, y
pensé bien. Lleváronme en medio, en conversación, preguntándome mis pretensiones,
con que llegamos abajo, al lugar, y yo pensando me metieran en la cárcel. Pasamos por
junto a ella, que está en el camino, y saliendo del lugar, como dos tiros de mosquete,
el uno que iba a mi lado derecho puso la mano detrás pór debajo de la capa, a quien yo
miraba más a las manos que a la cara, y al punto saqué la espada y di tan gran cuchillada
en la cabeza que cayó en el suelo con las escribanías en la mano, que si no se las veo
le asegundo. El otro, que era el alguacil, metió mano al punto y, tirándome afuera,
hice una raya en el suelo con la espada y dije «No me pase de ahi nadie, que lo haré
pedazos». El alguacil tomó la sangre con unos pañizuelos y de aquella manera me
notificaron no entrase en El Escorial sin licencia del Rey, pena de la vida. Yo dije «Y
mi mula que está en el mesón, ¿tampoco no puedo ir por ella?». Dijeron «No, que se la
enviaremos». Y a toda prisa se fueron a curar el escribano y a dar cuenta al que se lo
había mandado. Dicen que se rió mucho en la comida del Rey. Trájome un labrador mi
mula y púseme a caballo camino de Madrid, y en las siete leguas entré en cuenta
conmigo y me resolví el irme a servir al desierto a Dios y no más corte ni palacio. Entré
en Madrid y fuime a mi posada, donde perseveré en mi propósito y traté de mi viaje,
que fue el irme a Moncayo y fabricar una ermita en aquella montaña y acabar en
ella.

ERMITAÑO

Compré los instrumentos para un ermitaño: cilicio y disciplinas y sayal de que hacer
un saco, un reloj de sol, muchos libros de penitencia, simientes y una calavera y un
azadoncito. Metí todo esto en una maleta grande y tomé dos mulas y un mozo para mi
viaje, sin decir a nadie dónde iba. Despedí un criado que tenía, recibí la bendición de mi
madre, que pensó iba a servir mi sargentía mayor, y muchos lo pensaron cuando me
vieron pasar por San Felipe, camino de Alcalá y Zaragoza.
Llegué al puerto de Arcos donde se registra, y queriendo que abriese la maleta,
como la vieron grande, dije «Suplico a vuesasmercedes no la abran, que no hay cosa de
registro. ¿Qué quieren que tenga un soldado que viene de la Corte?». Ellos quisieron
abrirla y, comenzando, sacaron los instrumentos dichos, que se quedaron espantados y
dijeron «Señor, ¿dónde va con esto?». Dije «A servir otro poco a otro rey, que estoy
cansado». Y como veían que iba bien tratado, les movió a lástima y, en particular, el
mozo de mulas, que lloraba como una criatura. Fuimos de allí adelante tratando los dos
de mi retirada, hasta que llegamos a Calatayud, que había unos caballeros de Malta, mis
conocidos, a quien pedí algunas cartas de favor en que me acreditasen para el obispo de
Tarazona, que Moncayo está en su dióces[is].
Predicáronme no tomase tan fuerte resolución, porque sabían quién yo era, y no
pudiéndome sacar de mi intento, me dieron cartas de mucho crédito y aún suplicaban al
obispo que me lo quitase de la cabeza. Era obispo un fraile jerónimo que había sido
confesor del rey Felipe Segundo.
Llegué a Tarazona, fuime a una posada, despedí mi mozo y mulas, que no se quería
ir (tanto amor me había cobrado) y de allí a dos días fui a ver el obispo y di las cartas.
Mandó que me quedase a comer con él y, sobremesa, me hizo un sermoncito,
poniéndome por delante mil inconvenientes, y la mocedad; yo siempre en mi propósito.
Estuve en su casa ocho días regalado y siempre con sermones, hasta que vio no tenía
remedio, con lo cual me dio cartas para su vicario, que estaba en Agreda, que está a la
halda de Moncayo. Llegué, di mis cartas al vicario, que se espantó de mi resolución y
dijo que cuando quisiese podía comenzar.
Estaba por Corregidor un grande amigo mío en esta ciudad, de Madrid, que se llama
don Diego Castellanos de Maudes, que, como me vio, me llevó a su casa y tuvo unos
días, que casi me hubiera quitado el pensamiento. Y como supieron en la ciudad mi
intento y que el Corregidor me abonaba, que era hombre que había estado en tantas
ocasiones, gané las voluntades de todos. Con que, vista mi perseverancia, ayudaron a
fabricar mi ermita, que fue poco más de media legua de la ciudad, en la halda de la
montaña.
Compúsela de algunas cosillas, con la imagen de Nuestra Señora de la Gracia, de
bulto. E hice una confesión general en un convento de San Diego, de frailes
franciscos descalzos, que está fuera de la ciudad, en el camino de mi ermita, que el día
que me vestí de ermitaño descalzo fue el vicario y la bendijo y dijo misa. Y estuvo el
Corregidor y muchos caballeros que, acabado, se fueron y me quedé solo, tratando de
repartir el tiempo en cosas saludables al alma. Púseme el saco de la color de San
Francisco y, descalzo de pie y pierna, venía todos los días a oír misa al convento, donde
tenía batería de los frailes fuese uno de ellos. Yo no quería.
Los sábados entraba en la ciudad y pedía limosna. No tomaba dinero más de aceite,
pan y ajos con que me sustentaba, comiendo tres veces a la semana una mazamorra
con ajos y pan y aceite, cocido todo, y los demás días pan y agua y muchas yerbas que
hay en aquella montaña. Confesábame cada domingo y comulgaba. Llamábame fray
Alonso de la Madre de Dios. Y algunos días me hacian comer los frailes con ellos, con
intención que me metiese fraile, y como vieron que no había remedio me pusieron pleito
para que me quitase el hábito o saco que traía de su Orden. Salieron con ello y hube de
mudar traje, que me pesó harto, tomando la color de los frailes vitonos, que creo si los
hubiera allí fuera lo mismo, tanta gana tenían de meterme en su religión.
Yo pasé cerca de siete meses en esta vida, sin que se me sintiese cosa mala, y estaba
más contento que una Pascua y prometo que si no me hubieran sacado de allí como me
sacaron, y hubiera durado hasta hoy, que estuviera harto de hacer milagros.
Volvamos atrás, cuando pasé por Hornachos que había pasado tiempo de cinco años,
del año 1603 al de 1608, que era cuando estaba en la ermita o me fui a ella.
Hubo en España algunas premisas que los moriscos se querían levantar, y
habiendo ido el alcalde Madera, que lo era de Casa y Corte, a Hornachos a hacer unas
averiguaciones, graves quizá, contra el rebelión que dicen se conjuraban los moriscos,
estaba en dicho lugar con su corte, en el cual mandó ahorcar seis moriscos. El porqué no
lo sé, más de que habiendo venido del lugar de Guareña a Hornachos unos labradores a
vender algo, vieron ahorcados los moriscos, con lo cual dijeron «No sin causa aquellos
soldados que pasaron por nuestra tierra los años atrás decían tenían éstos una cueva de
armas escondidas». No faltó quien lo oyó y avisó al alcalde, que mandó prenderlos, y
tomada su confesión dijeron que una compañía de soldados que había pasado por su
tierra los años atrás, en una pendencia que hubo con la gente del lugar decían los
soldados: «¡Ah, cuerpo de Dios, si nos hubieran armado de las armas que hallaron
escondidas en la cueva de Hornachos!»
Preguntáronlos quién era el capitán. Dijeron que no lo sabían, con que despachó al
lugar a ver si lo podía saber. Y como en todos los lugares, antes de alojar, se echa un
bando en nombre del capitán, halláronlo con facilidad. Sabido el nombre del capitán,
que a la sazón estaban en Nápoles, hallaron testigos en el lugar cómo decían: «El alférez
tuvo la culpa, que, pues las halló sin decir a nadie nada, las había de repartir entre
nosotros.» Con lo cual procuró saber quién era el alférez. No lo supieron decir, y así se
envió a la corte a saber quién era el alférez del capitán don Pedro Jaraba del Castillo en
la leva del año 1603, y con facilidad supieron era yo.
Buscándome, a[l]canzaron a saber cómo estaba en Moncayo hecho ermitaño y había
dejado de ir a servir la plaza de sargento mayor de Cerdeña, porque había escrito de la
ermita a mi madre y a unos oficiales de la Secretaría de Estado, mis amigos, que
entonces la tenía el señor Andrés de Prada, el Viejo, que me hacia mucha merced.
Con lo cual despacharon una cédula real para que me fuesen a prender, pareciéndoles
que, pues había topado aquellas armas y de ellas no se había tenido noticia hasta
entonces, y que en tiempo los moriscos trataban de levantarse y no quisiese yo haber ido
a ejercer a Cerdeña mi oficio, sino retirádome en hábito de ermitaño a Moncayo, que es
lo más fuerte de España y se comunica con Aragón y Castilla, siendo la raya de lo uno y
lo otro, les dio a imaginar que yo sería el rey de aquellos moriscos, no sabiendo lo que
me obligó el retirarme

PRISIÓN SIENDO ERMITAÑO

Llegó el que traía la comisión, que se llamaba Fulano Llerena, Alguacil de Corte 26,
y presentóla de secreto al Corregidor de Agreda. Y, convocando mucha gente armada,
fueron a mi ermita; y como no era camino real, ni otro, el de la ermita, yo me espanté de
ver venir tanta gente junta y armada. Imaginé era alguna compañía de soldados
bisoños que pasaban a Aragón, pero viéndolos encaminar a la ermita, no sabía qué
decirme. Más de que llegaron con tanta prevención, como si fuera un castillo lo que
habían de ganar, y llegándose a mí, que estaba con un rosario en la mano y un cayado en
la otra, me agarraron y prendieron y al punto me ataron las manos atrás y pusieron un
par de grillos en los pies, con el mayor contento, como si hubieran ganado una ciudad
muy fuerte y, poniéndome encima de un pollino, asentado y atado, comenzaron a
caminar la vuelta de la ciudad. Yo oía decir «Este es el rey de los moriscos; miren con
la devoción que andaba en la tierra». Otros decían mil disparates, con que llegamos a do
había salido todo el lugar a verme, y a unos hacía lástima y a otros daba qué decir.
Metiéronme en la cárcel con gran guarda, donde estuve aquella noche
encomendándome a Dios y haciendo examen de mi vida, por qué podían haberme preso
con tanto cuidado y cédula del rey.
No podía saber qué fuese, porque hacía mil juicios. Otro día rogué me llamasen al
Corregidor. Vino y preguntéle me dijese si sabía la causa de mi prislon. Respondióme
que creía era tocante a los moriscos, con lo cual imaginé si era por las armas que topé en
Hornachos, que luego se me vino a la memoria y dije «Si es por las armas que topé en
Hornachos ¿para qué me prendían con tanta cautela?, que preguntándomelo, lo diría».
El Corregidor se espantó y llamó al punto al tal Llerena y se lo dijo, de que daba saltos
de contento y mandó que me quitasen las prisiones de las manos que me atormentaban.
Dábanme de comer con regalo y, como estaba enseñado a comer yerbas, me hinché
luego que pensaron me moría y pensaron era veneno. Llamaron los médicos. Curáronme
y luego conocieron lo que era, que fue fácil de sanar. Caminamos a Madrid y en el
camino fui regalado, pero con mis prisiones y doce hombres de guarda con escopetas.
Llegamos a Madrid y me llevaron a apear a la calle de las Fuentes, en casa del alcalde
Madera, que había venido de Hornachos.
Apeado, mandóme quitar las prisiones y metió en una sala, donde quedamos solos, y
comenzándome con amor a preguntar la causa de haberme retirado, le dije lo que ya
tengo escrito atrás. Pasó adelante y díjome si había estado en Hornachos alguna vez.
Respondile «Señor, si es por las armas que topé en un silo allí, pasando con mi
compañía habrá cinco años, no se canse vuesamerced, que yo se lo diré como pasó».
Leyantóse y abrazóme, diciendo que yo era ángel, que no era hombre, pues había
querido Dios guardarme para luz del mal intento que tenían los moriscos, y comencé a
contárselo como está dicho. Mandó que me llevasen en casa de un Alguacil de Corte
que se llamaba Alonso Ronquillo, con seis guardas de vista pero sin prisiones, con
orden me regalasen y que a la comida y cena estuviese un médico a la mesa, el cual no
me dejaba comer ni beber a mi gusto, sino al suyo; por lo cual veo que come mejor un
oficial que un gran señor. Pasóse cuatro días que no me dejaron escribir ni enviar recado
a nadie de mis conocidos y madre. Y al cabo de ellos vino el mismo alcalde con un
Secretario del Crimen, que se llamaba Juan de Piña y me tomó la confesión de
verbo a verbo, en la cual no quiso que me llamase fray Alonso de la Madre de Dios,
sino el sargento mayor Alonso de Contreras, y así me hizo firmar.
De allí a quince días, que ya yo comunicaba con mi madre y amigos, aunque siempre
con guardas de vista, pero no con médico a la mesa, llegó una noche el alguacil
Ronquillo, a medianoche, vestido de camino y con pistolas en la cinta, con otros seis de
la misma manera, y entró en el aposento y dijo «Ah, señor sargento mayor, vístase
vuesamerced, que tenemos que hacer». Yo, como le vi de aquella manera, dije «¿Qué,
señor?». «Que se vista, que tenemos que hacer.» Yo tenía poco que vestir más que
echarme encima un saco; y hécholo, le dije «¿Dónde va vuesamerced?». Respondió «A
lo que ordena el Consejo». Entonces yo respondí «Pues sírvase vuesamerced de enviar a
llamar a San Ginés quien me confiese, que no he de salir de aquí menos que
confesado». Entonces tomó y dijo «Es tarde. Vamos, que no es menester». Y por el
mismo caso más temí lo que tenía en mi imaginación; que era el llevarme a dar algún
garrote fuera del lugar.

CAPÍTULO 10

EN QUE SE SIGUE EL LEVANTAMIENTO DE TESTIMONIO
SOBRE QUE ERA REY.

En suma, trajeron al teniente cura de San Ginés, que estaba a tres casas, y
arrimándome a un rincón me confesé. ¡Pluguiera a Dios fuera hoy que escribo ésta, la
cuarta parte tan bueno como entonces! Supliqué y pedí con citación al confesor que a
otro día había de dar cuenta de lo que le pedía al secretario Prada y a mi madre, y era
suplicarle de mi parte se siguiese la causa, porque en ningún tiempo se dijese yo habia
sido traidor al rey. Con lo cual se acabó la confesión y se fue el teniente cura y a mí me
pusieron unos grillos y ataron muy bien encima de una mula de silla y por debajo de la
barriga de la mula ataron el otro pie en que no iban grillos.
Salimos de casa, que vivíamos a la rinconada de San Ginés. Subiéronme por donde
van los ahorcados. Entré en la Plaza y bajáronme por la calle de Toledo y Puerta
Cerrada, calles de los ajusticiados. Verdad es que era camino de la Puente Segoviana,
por donde habíamos de ir para Hornachos, donde me llevaba, que pudo decírmelo, con
que excusara aquella aprensión que tomé de que me llevaban a dar garrote. En suma,
caminamos nuestro camino lo que quedó de la noche, y a cada sombra de árbol pensaba
que era el verdugo. Amaneciónos en Móstoles, caminamos a Casarrubios, donde
dimos cebada y almorzamos, aunque yo de mala gana, y díjele al alguacil por qué no me
decía adónde íbamos y hubiera ahorrado tan gran pesadumbre como había tomado
aquella noche. Díjome que íbamos a una tierra que no me lo quería decir, porque
llevaba orden del Consejo hasta que estuviésemos en ella, que aún me quedó algunas
sospechas.
Llegamos a la vista de Hornachos y entonces dijo que íbamos a él y que se había de
hacer una diligencia aquella noche, que no habíamos de entrar hasta medianoche.
Nuevos pensamientos para mí, que estuvimos en una huerta aguardando la hora y yo
pense era la postrera, pero no me daba cuidado. Siempre que haya de ser me coja como
entonces, que me contento.
A la entrada del lugar me quitó los grillos y desató diciéndome «Vuesamerced diga
la casa donde estaban las armas». Dije «Señor, yo no conozco el lugar, porque no estuve
en el más de una tarde y una noche, y cuando me llevó el soldado era de noche, y ha
cinco años. Pero póngame vuesamerced en una calle que hay cuesta arriba donde hay
una fuente, que espero en Dios acertar la casa. Hízolo y dije «Esta o ésta es la casa».
Dijo «Pues vámonos a la posada». Fuimos y dábame de cenar, ¡reventado sea! ¡Mire si
me había dado buena cena con semejantes tragos! Amaneció y dieron traza para que yo
entrase en las dos casas, sin escándalo, a reconocerlas. Y fue que, entrando en otras
primero, decían era enviado del obispo de Badajoz, a ver las casas si tenían imágenes y
cruces, y como yo era ermitaño creyéronlo. Y fue causa que vinieron santeros con
estampas de papel a Hornachos que se hicieron ricos, y no había puerta que no tuviese
dos o tres cruces, que parecía campo de mantanza. Entré en la casa y topé el silo, pero
no estaba como yo lo había confesado en mi confesión: que era blanco como una
paloma y de algunos treinta pies de largo y veinte de ancho.
Halléme confuso y, arrimado a la pared, con el dedo estuve arañando, como confuso,
cuando quiso Dios que cayó un pedazo de lodo de donde arañaba y debajo quedó
blanco. Reparé en ello y dije «Señor traigan quien derribe una tapia, porque rasqué
todas las paredes y no había blanco más de las tres, y la una era negra». Trajeron quien
la derribase, la negra, y luego quedó el silo como yo lo había dicho, porque habían
echado una tapia en medio del silo y de un aposento habían hecho dos y echado una
capa de barro encima.
Prendieron al dueño de la casa. Dijo que él había comprado la casa, dos años había,
de otro morisco, que no sé cómo se llamaba. Mas de que yéndolo a prender, como había
ya sabídose el ruido del derribar la casa, tomó una yegua. que tenía y se fue a Portugal,
que costó harto de sacarlo de él. Embargáronle su hacienda, que la fiesta fue para el
alguacil y los guardas. Con esto ya me tenían con menos cuidado. Despachóse a la corte
con lo dicho, que estimó el alcalde la nueva.
Yo caí malo y de muerte, pero fueron tantos los remedios y cuidado que sané presto.
Enviaron por mi y para llevarme trajeron litera y médico que fuese conmigo porque iba
convaleciente. Y en todas las tierras que pasaba salía el corregidor o alcalde a
entregarse de mí hasta la mañana que me tornaba a entregar, pero regaladísimo y en
lindas casas y no en cárceles, que nunca entré en ellas. Llegamos a Madrid y lleváronme
a la misma casa. Viome mi madre con hartas lágrimas.
Yo estaba ya bueno y un día lleváronme en casa del Presidente de Castilla, que era el
señor don Pedro Manso, donde había una junta con consejeros del Real y de Guerra. El
señor don Diego de Ibarra y el señor conde de Salazar eran del de Guerra; los demás
no tenía con ellos conocimiento, sino con el señor Melchor de Molina, que era fiscal.
Trajeron al comisario a carear conmigo, a quien yo confesaba había dado cuenta y
él había negado no había estado en Hornachos. Y leyéndome la confesión, dije que
conocía al tal comisario y que era verdad todo lo contenido en aquella confesión y que
¿para qué negaba cosa tan clara? Nególo y yo dije «Señores, ésta es la verdad y si es
menester ratificarlo en un tormento, lo haré». Con esto se acabó, mandándome llevar a
mi sólita prisión, y al comisario a la cárcel de Corte.

TORMENTO QUE ME DIERON

No pasaron muchos días que una noche después de acostado, me mandaron vestir y,
metiéndome en una silla, me llevaron a la calle de las Fuentes y metieron en una sala
muy entapizada, donde había una mesa con dos velas y un Cristo y tintero y salvadera
con papel; allí cerca un potro, que no me holgué de verlo, y estaba el verdugo y el
alcalde y escribano. El alcalde me consoló y dijo que el comisario negaba no le había
dado parte de las armas y que así era menester darme tormento: que le pesaba en el alma
de ello y, así, mandó que se hiciese lo necesario. El secretario me notificó no sé qué,
que no me acuerdo, y el verdugo me desnudó y echó en aquellas andas y puso sus
cordeles.
Comenzáronme a decir dijese a quién había entregado las armas. Yo dije que me
remitía a mi confesión. Dijo «Aprieta, que bien sé que te dieron a ti y a tu capitán cuatro
mil ducados porque lo callásedes». Yo respondí «Es mentira, que mi capitán supo de
ello como el Gran Turco. Lo que tengo dicho es la verdad». Con que no quise responder
más palabra en todo el tiempo que me tuvieron allí más de que dije «Recio caso es
atormenten por decir la verdad, que tampoco me importaba el decir lo dicho de bueno a
bueno. Si quiere vuesamerced que me desdiga lo haré». Dijo «Aprieta y da otra vuelta».
Y no me pareció que me dolió mucho esta vuelta. Y luego me mandó quitar y que me
metiesen en la silla y llevasen a casa, donde me curaron y regalaron como al rey, y al
meterme en la silla me abrazó el alcalde.
Estuve en la cama regalado más de diez días y luego me levanté. Y el comisario
estaba apretado en la Cárcel de Corte, pero tenía al Condestable viejo que le ayudaba y
al conde de Chinchón viejo, además de treinta mil ducados que decían tenía.
Proveyóse un auto en que me soltasen, tomándome pleito homenaje que no
saldría de la corte hasta que se me mandase, y mandaron que me quitase el hábito de
ermitaño para lo cual me vistieron de terciopelo muy bien, en hábito de soldado, y me
daban cada día cuatro escudos de oro para comer y posada, los cuales me daba el
secretario Piña cada cuatro días con puntualidad. Todo esto se pagaba de los bienes de
los moriscos.
Salí a San Felipe, como digo, galán. Todos se espantaban de verme y holgaban de
que estuviese libre. Yo iba cada noche en casa del alguacil que me había tenido preso, y
su mujer me decía «Señor, el comisario prueba no estuvo en Hornachos con muchos
testigos. Yo, por el pan que ha comido con nosotros vuesamerced, le aconsejaría se
fuese, no tornase a caer en prisión y, como dicen, más vale salto de mata que ruego de
buenos». Yo pensé lo decía con buena intención, y, ¡pardiez!, que traté de irme como
me aconsejaba, porque lo hacía a instancia del comisario que, como digo, era rico y al
fin se le cuajó su intención.

HUIDA DE MADRID

Yo tenía algo ahorrado y rogué al secretario me diese para dos días la ración, que lo
había menester. Y vendiendo el vestido negro, habiendo comprado en la calle de las
Postas un calzón y capote pardo sin aforro y unas polainas y una mala espada,
con mis alforjas y montera salí una noche al anochecer de Madrid, camino de Alicante,
y esto era por enero. Quien ha caminado aquellos caminos en tal tiempo me tendrá
lástima.
Amanecí en la Barca de Bayona y caminé por esa Mancha arriba. Llegué a Albacete,
de donde tomé el camino de Alicante, que llegué en cuatro días y aquí tomé lengua
dónde estaba el tercio de la armada, porque estaban todos los tercios de Italia y armada
en aquel reino de Valencia, donde estaban muchos soldados de mi compañía cuando
pasé por Hornachos, que como agregaron mi compañía cuando me reformaron en
Lisboa, todas las que quedaron en pie las metieron en la armada, en el tercio de ella.
Supe cómo estaba este tercio en la Sierra de Cortes y en Laguar. Caminé hacia allá
en el hábito que he dicho y, buscando algunos soldados de los míos, tuve medio de irme
cada día a ver entrar las compañías de guarda, donde hallé más de quince, y entre ellos
dos que eran alféreces vivos. Contéles mis trabajos a los alféreces, que se condolieron
y llevaron a su posada, y diciendo que el comisario negaba no había estado en
Hornachos, dijeron que mentía, que aún le daría señas de lo que almorzó aquella
mañana y en qué posada. Hablamos a algunos de los soldados para que dijesen sus
dichos y, teniéndolo prevenido, hice un memorial para el auditor del tercio en que me
convenía examinar ciertos testigos de cómo un Fulano había estado presente en una
tierra o lugar que se llama Hornachos por tal tiempo, y que para cobrar cierta hacienda
me importaba, le suplicaba y daba los nombres de los testigos.
Con esto examiné cinco testigos de cómo estaba el comisario en Hornachos cuando
la compañía estuvo allí. Después de hecho lo guardé y quise irme pero estábamos de día
en día para saquear los moriscos de aquella sierra y me aguardé algunos días y también
por aguardar buen tiempo, que le hacía cruel.
Cuando me huí de Madrid me echaron menos a dos días y enviaron a buscarme por
diferentes partes y asimismo me pregonaron en Madrid, llamándome a pregones, con lo
cual, como no respondí, ni se sabía dónde estaba, aunque tuvieron noticia que había
huido hacia Valencia, por algunas señas que tuvieron de mí. Con que el comisario
comenzó a pedir que le soltasen, porque todo lo que yo había dicho era mentira y que
me había vuelto a buscar los moriscos para meterme entre ellos. Tenía dinero y los dos
grandes señores que le ayudaban y así no hubo dificultad en soltarle, aunque el alcalde
no creía de mí cosa mala, y más que se había hecho secretamente una plena información
hasta dentro del cuarto grado, para saber si tenía alguna raza de moro o judío. Y digo
esto porque después me dijo el secretario Piña «Si vuesamerced tuviera lo que costó de
hacer pesquisa e información de su nacimiento, padres y abuelos paternos y maternos,
había para pasar algunos días. Y fue vuesamerced venturoso en que no hallasen cosa de
lo dicho, porque es cierto le hubieran ahorcado».
El buen comisario andaba fuera de la cárcel y la sentencia de los moriscos se iba
fulminando (el echarlos de España) y a mí buscándome, cuando de allí a pocos días,
en un saquillo que hubo de unos moriscos en la Sierra de Laguar, me tocó un macho
bizarro o mulo de arriero, con que tomé el camino de Albacete y un pasaporte del
sargento mayor del tercio, como no tenía plaza y aquel mulo lo había ganado y era mío,
con sus señas. Entré en Albacete y vendí el mulo, que me dieron por él treinta y seis
ducados, y valía ciento.

VUELTA A MADRID DE VALENCIA

Caminé a Madrid, y antes de llegar una legua, en Vallecas, hice un pliego de cartas
intitulado: «Al Rey Nuestro Señor, en manos del secretario Andrés de Prada.» Y con
mis alforjas, como correo, entré en Madrid al anochecer. Fuime derecho en casa del
señor conde de Salazar y hablé con su secretario, Medina, y conociéndome dijo que me
fuese con Dios, que si me cogían me habían de atiorcar «mañana». Repliquéle, y él en
que me fuese. Llamé un paje y dije «Vuesamerced diga al conde que está aquí un correo
que viene del ejército de Valencia». Mandóme entrar al punto, y como me conoció miró
a un lado y a otro si había gente, me pareció, para prenderme. Yo le dije «Señor, yo soy
el alférez Contreras, que por la reputación me ha obligado a venir así —venía con el
lodo a media pierna—, y para que vea Vuestra Señoría, aquí traigo información bastante
cómo el comisario estuvo en Hornachos, que por irla [a] hacer donde había soldados de
la compañía me fui sin licencia. Ahora Vuestra Señoría mande lo que fuere servido».
Entonces dijo «Por este hábito, que siempre tuve buen concepto de Contreras. Vaya en
casa de Mechor de Molina, el fiscal, y cuénteselo luego y veámonos mañana». Yo fui en
casa de Melchor de Molina, el fiscal, y me dijeron que estaba acostado, con que me
determiné a ir en casa de una mujer conocida, y llamando a la puerta me respondió una
moza que tenía y abrió, y como me conoció dijo a voces, como espantada «¡Ay, señora,
que es el alférez!».
Entré con la figura que [he] dicho, que era dificultoso el conocerme, y dije «¿De qué
se alborotan?». Dijo la mujer «Está loco en venir a Madrid, que no tardarán tanto en
cogerlo como en ahorcarlo. Por las llagas de Dios, se vaya a una iglesia». Dije
«Isabelilla, toma. Ve en casa del embajador de Inglaterra y trae una empanada de lo que
hallares y vino, que estoy muerto de hambre, y si me han de ahorcar, deja que muera
harto». La moza fue y vino en el aire y trajo la empanada y vino, y dije al ama
«Siéntese y cene». Dijo que había cenado y yo comencé a cenar y, acabado, hice que me
lavaran los pies con un poco de vino y me acosté. Dormí, que venía cansado, y por
presto que madrugué ya estaba fuera el fiscal. Dijéronme que había ido a misa a la
Compañía y fui allá, y al salir de la iglesia habléle y dije cómo traía información y
que el conde me había dicho se la llevase y que se verían en palacio. Tomó la informa-
ción, doliéndose de verme, y dijo le aguardase en su casa. Yo lo hice como lo mandó.
La criada de la señora donde había cenado era amiga de un corchete y avisóle por
la mañana mientras fui en casa del fiscal, que yo mismo había dicho iba allá por la
mañana cuando salí, y éste avisó a su amo, que era un alguacil de Corte que se llamaba
Artiaga, y aprestándose con otros corchetes fueron a aguardarme cuando saliese de allí.
Aguardé hasta mediodía, que vino el fiscal, y apeándose del coche me vio y dijo
«Venga vuesamerced, que Su Majestad le ha de hacer mucha merced», y esto asido de
la mano. Los que venían con él se espantaron ver un hombre que parecía correo de a
pie, y menos, hacer tantos cumplimientos. Entramos en el estudio y sentámonos y
comenzó a engrandecer mi valor y dijo «Vuesamerced vaya en casa del conde, que ya
hemos estado en palacio juntos y se ha tomado resolución con vuesamerced». Yo salí de
la casa cuando cargó el alguacil con sus corchetes sobre mí: «¡Favor al Rey!» Yo metí
mano a la herruza y comencé a jugar, pareciéndome que era trampa lo del fiscal, que
no dejaba llegar a mí a nadie. Avisaron al fiscal, que salió a la puerta diciendo:
«¡Pícaros, ladrones! ¿Qué hacéis? ¿Sabéis quién es ése que va vestido de correo? ¡Por
vida del rey, que os haga echar en una galera! ¿No bastaba que salía de mi casa?» Con
lo cual quedó el alguacil aturdido y yo, envainando mi espadilla, me fui en casa del
conde con más de cien personas detrás y delante. Aguardé que viniera, y aún no se había
ido la gente de la puerta cuando llegó y me dijo «Suba acá, señor alférez». Seguile, y
estando arriba me dijo «Vuesamerced ha cumplido como muy hombre de bien. Esto está
acabado. Mire para dónde quiere una compañía y se le dará el despacho». Yo le besé la
mano por ello y dije «Señor, ya que ha de ser, sea para Flandes». Y entonces me dio un
billete para el secretario Prada y más trescientos reales en piezas de a dos, con que fui
en casa del secretario y di el billete, y él me dio un pliego que hizo para el rey, que
estaba en el Pardo. Fuime al Pardo y entregué el pliego al secretario Veloque y dijo que
volviese a la tarde, a boca de noche, al escritorio. Y volviendo, me dio un pliego para
el mismo secretario Prada y mil reales en piezas de a cuatro. Tomé lo uno y lo otro y
vine a Madrid y entregué el pliego, y había en él una cédula para Flandes de doce
escudos de ventaja y una carta para el Archiduque en que mandaba el Rey me diese
una compañía de infantería. Con lo cual me vestí a lo soldado y tomé la derrota para
Ágreda, donde era ermitaño, pidiendo a mi madre su bendición y dejándola algún
socorrillo del que me habían hecho a mí.
El comisario, como tenía dineros y tan buenos ángeles de guarda y estaba ya suelto
en fiado, y la sentencia dada contra los moriscos que los echasen de España, le dieron
un destierro que le debió de durar poco, porque le vi en la corte de allí a cuatro años
poco mas.

CAPÍTULO 11

EN QUE SE DICE DE LA SALIDA QUE HICE DE MADRID
PARA FLANDES Y SUCESOS DE LA MUERTE DE[L] REY
DE FRANCIA

Salí de Madrid y encaminéme a Ágreda, donde llegué en poquitos días. Fuime a una
posada y supo todo el lugar estaba allí, que se holgaron infinito de verme, y más con las
honradas cédulas que llevaba del Rey. Estuve allí cinco días y luego me partí para San
Sebastián, a do llegué con salud, y me embarqué en un navío de Dunquerque para
Flandes, que llegué en ocho días. Desembarquéme y fui a Bruselas, presenté al
Archiduque mis despachos, hízome mucha merced y mandóme sentar el sueldo, y que
en la primera ocasión me daría una compañía. Hícelo, sentando la plaza en la compañía
del capitán Andrés de Prada, que era deudo del Secretario de Estado, en el tercio del
maestre de campo don Juan de Meneses, que estaba en Cambray de guarnición.
No hubo ocasión en más de dos años de salir a campaña, ni de darme compañía,
hasta que se revolvió lo de la Princesa de Condé, que el Rey de Francia, Enrique Cuarto,
la quería (en todo caso, él sabe para qué), la cual se había venido a favorecer de la
señora infanta y la tenía en su poder en Bruselas y a su marido también, que es el
Príncipe de Condé, jurado en Francia por tal príncipe y heredero legitimo de aquella
corona, si el mucho valor de Enrique Cuarto no se la hubiera quitado; que se me ofrece
tratar de él un prodigio de que yo soy testigo, y aún tengo dicho mi dicho delante del
magistrado de Cambray sobre el caso.

MUERTE DEL REY DE FRANCIA, ENRIQUE CUARTO, 1610, A
CATORCE DE MAYO

Es a saber que el rey de Francia tenía hecha su liga con los potentados de Alemania e
Italia, que ya tendrá el lector noticia de ella, que fue la del año de 1610 y aún creo que
dura hoy.
Trató de irse a San Deonís, a jurar la reina, que la dejaba en su lugar, y aquel día
que lo había hecho se vino a París, que son dos leguas de una calzada, y entrando en la
ciudad, en una calle angosta, donde la guarda no pudo ir cerca de la carroza donde iba el
rey, se arrojó un hombre y con un cuchillo jifero le tiró una puñalada. Y visto que el
rey habló diciendo «No le a tue», que quiere decir «No le matéis», se arrojó segunda vez
y le dio otra, con que mató al más valiente rey que ha habido de doscientos años a esta
parte. Y prendieron a este hombre, al qual dieron infinitos tormentos para matarle,
dándole cada día su género de tormento, y lo más que dijo siempre «Mon Dio de
paradí», que quiere decir «Dios mío del paraíso». Y más que, preguntándole quién se lo
había mandado hacer, decía que nadie, que él lo había hecho porque no pereciese la
cristiandad y que había venido de su tierra otras dos veces a hacer este caso y no había
tenido ocasión de hacerlo y, gastándosele lo que traía, se volvía. Este se llamaba
Francisco Rubillar, natural de Angulema. Era maestro de niños. (Angulema está en
Bretaña) Sucedió esto a 14 de mayo 1610, a las cuatro de la tarde. Todo esto es
relación verdadera, que como estuve en Cambray, que está cerca, me certifiqué de
todo. Pero lo que vi diré ahora, a que tengo citado.
Como he dicho, estaba de guarnición en Cambray con mi tercio, al cual se le había
dado orden que se aprestase para salir a campaña, y nosotros los soldados deseábamoslo
como la salvación. Sucedió que, habiéndome nombrado de ronda a la muralla con otro
alférez mallorquín, que se llamaba Juan Jul, porque estaba nuestra compañía de guarda,
subimos a la muralla, donde hay muchas garitas, y llegando sobre la puerta de Perona
oímos una corneta de correo, que nos alegró.
Es a saber que los maestros de posta dejan fuera de la ciudad seis caballos para los
correos que pasan, los cuales no puede dar si no lleva el boletín del gobernador, que se
le da en una cajeta que está con unos cordeles desde la tierra a la otra parte del foso, y
allí llegan los correos y dan voces a la guarda y luego dicen de dónde vienen y si traen
cartas las echan en la cajeta y con ellas van en casa del gobernador, donde se le da el
boletín y lo lleva y echa en la caja, y tirando la cuerda la toma el correo y la da al
maestro de postas y le da caballos.
El correo llamó y le respondimos que de dónde venia. Dijo que de España, que es
aquél el camino. Dijímosle «¿Trae cartas para el gobernador?». Dijo «No, despáchenme
luego». Con lo cual le preguntamos «¿Qué hay de nuevo?». Respondió «Esta tarde
mataron al rey de Francia con un cuchillo y le dieron dos puñaladas». Con esto
resolvimos que fuese yo a dar aviso al gobernador, por ser más ligero. Llegué que
estaba acostado, y cuando le dije la nueva se espantó, porque sabía el estado y riesgo
que tenían las cosas. Diome el boletín y fui a la muralla y echamos en la cajeta, y el
correo le tomó, que estaba a pie y no traía más de un caballo, y se fue con él de
diestro, camino del maestre de postas, que estaba de allí un tiro de mosquete.
Nosotros seguimos nuestra ronda, dando aviso de lo pasado en los cuerpos de guarda,
que todos se espantaban. Amaneció, y de todo aquel Cambrasí, que son muchos
lugares, se venían retirando en carros la ropa para meterla en Cambray, porque decían
que la gente levantada iba a saquearlos por la muerte del rey. Con que fue mentira la
muerte que se ha contado, y a mí me daban la vaya. Pasó esto así que se ha oído, y al
cabo de nueve días naturales vino un criado del embajador don Iñigo de Cárdenas,
que lo era por el rey en París, corriendo la posta, y contó la muerte como está contada
sin discrepar un punto y cómo quedaba la casa del embajador con dos compañías de
salvaguarda que mandó poner la reina, porque no matasen al embajador y su gente,
pensando era la causa. Admiráronse del caso y, mandando llamar al maestro de postas
para que dijese si había dado caballos tal noche, dijo que no, por lo cual mandaron
dijésemos nuestros dichos, como lo dijimos. Y se creyó que aquel correo había sido
algún diablo o algún ángel. Y con esta muerte se quietó la cristiandad por entonces.
Nosotros salimos a campaña y estuvimos en ella hasta septiembre, que nos retiramos,
y pedí licencia al Archiduque, por saber que en Malta había capítulo general, donde
pretendía tener algún fruto de mis trabajos, como lo tuve.

SALIDA DE FLANDES EN HÁBITO DE PEREGRINO
Diome licencia, y por no tener caudal con qué ir en un caballo con un criado o solo,
me vestí en hábito de peregrino, a lo francés, que hablaba bien la lengua. Metí en el
bordón una espada y mis papeles en un zurrón, y comencé a caminar. Pasé por una
villa que llaman Cren, que está entre Amies y París, donde estaba el príncipe de
Condé con la princesa, que ya se había retirado sin miedo. Pedíle me hiciese merced de
una carta para el Maestre de Malta. Diómela, que era tan larga y angosta como un dedo,
y más trescientos reales. Pasé mi camino, entré en Borgoña y llegué a una ciudad que se
llama Jalón y pasa un río por las murallas. Estaba cerrada la puerta del camino por
do venía yo, y fue menester ir costeando el río para entrar por otra y, como curioso, iba
embebecido mirando la fortificación. Repararon en ello y, al entrar por la puerta,
cogiéronme. Yo, como no había hecho nada, no quería soltar el bordón, forcejeando, y
ellos diciendo «El bugre español, espión», que no podemos encubrirnos aunque más
hagamos.

PRISIÓN EN BORGOÑA

Con la fuerza que hacíamos se desencajó el bordón y vieron la espada, con que
acabaron de creer era espía. Lleváronme a la cárcel, donde trataron de darme tormento y
hubo pareceres me ahorcasen, pues me cogían con las armas encubiertas, que ¿qué más
prueba? Yo mostraba mis papeles y licencia del Archiduque; ni por ésas. Tanto, que un
español que estaba allí casado por no poder estar en los estados del rey, a causa de ser
de los amotinados de Flandes, que fueron dados por traidores, doliéndose de mí por
español, vino y me dijo «Señor, vuesamerced no esté descuidado, que éstos le quieren
ahorcar. Mire si quiere que yo haga algo». Pensé que se burlaba hasta que vi era de
veras y volvíame loco viniese a morir tan seco y sin llover. Díjele «Señor, aquí tengo
una carta de favor que me dio el príncipe de Condé para el Gran Maestre de Malta, en
que verán que voy mi camino y no soy espía». Dijo «Démela vuesamerced, ¡cuerpo de
Dios!». Era tan chiquilla que casi no la hallaba y tomóla y llevó al magistrado. Yo
quedé tan desconsolado como se deja pensar, y de allí a una hora oi gran tropel en la
cárcel, que pensé venían por mí para ejecutar su crueldad, y más que sentí una voz en
que decía «¿Du ete lo español?», que quiere decir «¿Dónde está el español? Llamadlo».
Yo fui, y estaba todo el magistrado y me dijeron en francés «Vení con nosotros», y
llevaron a una hostería, donde mandaron me regalasen bien. Hízolo el huésped, que no
era más hereje que Calvino. A otro día me dieron dos caballos ligeros para que me
acompañasen hasta León de Francia y otro caballo para mí, que no gasté blanca hasta
llegar allí, comiendo bien. En León me entregaron al gobernador e hizo lo mismo, que
después de regalado en una hostería, me sacaron otros dos caballos ligeros, hasta
ponerme en tierras del duque de Saboya, que fue Chanberí. Pasé mi camino hasta
Turín y de allí tomé la derrota de Génova, donde me embarqué para Nápoles y de ahí
para Palermo, donde estaba por Virrey el duque de Osuna, a quien hablé y mandó darme
cien ducados de ayuda de costa, porque vio traía licencia. No faltó quien me dijo que me
había mandado prender por las muertes pasadas, y sin saber si era verdad, como no lo
fue, me embarqué y fui a Malta, donde fui muy bien recibido. Y al punto me enviaron a
Levante en una fragata a tomar lengua, mientras nuestra armada iba a los
Querquenes, en Berbería, que fue el año de 1611.

TERCERA JORNADA

Hice mi viaje y traje relación verdadera. Túvose capítulo general en el cual me
recibieron en el priorato de Castilla, sin tener obligación de hacer las pruebas
necesarias para ello, sin haber voto en contrario de todo el capitulo, con más de
doscientos. Hice mi año de noviciado y, acabado, me dieron el hábito, aunque me
contradecían algunos caballeros que tenía dos homicidios públicos y, no obstante, hice
profesión porque el Gran Maestre lo ordenó.
En el año del noviciado tuve una pendencia con un caballero, temerario en condición,
italiano. Fue por volver por otro que me había hecho bien. Tiráronme dos pistoletazos y
no me hicieron mal.
Pedí licencia para España. Vine en las galeras de la Religión hasta Cartagena, sin
gastar en comer nada, en compañía del caballero por quien reñí la pendencia, que decir
todas las circunstancias sucedidas, no habría papel en Génova. Llevóme hasta Madrid
este caballero, donde me dejó, y yo quedé con mi hábito puesto, que todos me daban el
parabién, unos de envidia, otros de amor.
Pedí en el Consejo una compañía y enviáronme a servir a la Armada Real, donde
estuve en las ocasiones que hubo, hasta que volví a la corte con licencia. Y en este
tiempo me aficioné de una mujer casada, que fuimos amigos algunos días, y otra a quien
yo conocía, también casada, traíame en cuentos de celos, tanto que me obligó a hacer
una ruindad que, por tal, la cuento. Y es que me fui a su casa, delante su marido, con
resolución de cortarla la cara. Saqué la daga para hacerlo. Ella, que me vio resuelto,
tapóla y bajó la cabeza, metiéndola entre las piernas. Yo me vi mohíno y alcéle las
faldas, que estaba a propósito, y dila en las asentaderas dos rebanadas como en un
melón. El marido tomó la espada y salió tras mí, que era en la tienda donde trabajaba,
que era oficial, y como hay tanta justicia en Madrid, luego cargó a prenderme. Yo me
retiré a una casa donde me hice fuerte a la puerta y no dejaba entrar alma si no era por
la punta de la espada. Había justicia de la Villa y Corte y, mientras más tardamos, más
venía; tanto, que llamaron uno de los señores alcaldes de corte, que era don Fulano
Fariñas. Y llegado con gran tropa de alguaciles me dijo, quitándose el sombrero
«Suplico a vuesamerced meta la espada en la cinta». Respondíle «Pídemelo
vuesamerced con tanta cortesía, que aunque me hubieran de cortar la cabeza, lo haré»,
como lo hice. Y dijo «Jure vuesamerced sobre esa cruz de no hacer fuga y venirse
conmigo». Respondí «Quien ha hecho lo que vuesamerced le ha mandado, no ha
menester. Guíe vuesamerced donde fuere servido». Y yéndonos mano a mano, llegamos
a la Cárcel de Corte, y dijo «Vuesamerced quedará depositado hasta que se dé parte a la
asamblea y a su Alteza el príncipe Gran Prior. ¡Hola!, decí que se le dé un aposento, el
mejor que hubiere, y quédese con Dios, que esta noche vendré a ver a vuesamerced».

PRISIÓN EN MADRID

El alcaide me dijo «Si vuesamerced quiere estar con unos caballeros genoveses en su
aposento, estará con compañía». Dije que sí, y así subió y se lo dijo, que lo hicieron de
buena gana. Yo avisé al punto al secretario de la asamblea, aunque ellos lo sabían ya.
Los genoveses me dieron de cenar y mandaron hacer una cama en el suelo, no mala, y a
las doce de la noche vino el alcalde a dar tormento a un ladrón y, de camino, me tomó la
confesión, a cual le respondí que bien sabía su merced que el día que había tomado el
hábito y hecho profesión me había despojado de mi libertad y que, así, no la tenía para
jurar delante de su merced, que antes le suplicaba me remitiese al príncipe Gran Prior
como mi juez. Dijo «Dígalo con apercibimiento» —de no sé qué—, y dije «Lo que he
dicho, digo, y lo firmo de mi nombre». Esta fue mi confesión, con que el señor alcalde
se fue, y yo [a] acostar.
A la mañana vino el alcaide con mucha prisa a que me vistiese, que toda la sala me
aguardaba. Respondí que los señores no eran mis jueces y que, así, no quería ir. Fuelo a
decir y mandaron subiesen ocho galeotes y me trajesen con cama y todo a la sala, que al
punto se ejecutó y plantáronme en ella como estaba en mi aposento. Comenzaron a
decir lo que suelen en aquel tribunal. Yo respondí una palabra que les obligó a mandar
que me llevasen a un calabozo y, al pasar por los corredores, encontré con dos
caballeros de mi hábito y el fiscal, que venían con orden de la asamblea a pedirme.
Entraron en la sala y, cerrados todos, ordenaron fuese un alcalde a hacer relación al
Consejo. Fue uno que se llama Fulano de Valenzuela y subió al rey, y volviendo a las
doce del día, que no visitaron a nadie, trajo un decreto que tengo yo el tanto de él.
Dice «Remítase el alférez Alonso de Contreras al príncipe Gran Prior, mi sobrino, con
todo lo que hubiere escrito original, advirtiendo que se sepa primero si es profeso y,
siéndolo, quede un tanto de la carta de profesión en poder de los alcaldes». Con esto
vino y me llamaron, que ya estaba vestido, y preguntaron por la carta de profesión.
Envié por ella y, registrándola, me entregaron a los caballeros y llevaron a la Cárcel de
la Corona donde estuve hasta que la asamblea me desterró por dos años, y me fui a
servir a la armada y estuve hasta que torné a pedir licencia para la corte, a pretender una
compañía.
Salió una elección de cuarenta capitanes y no me tocó la suerte. Salí de Madrid con
resolución de irme a Malta, que me parecía que allí podría medrar. Topé un caballero
que iba a Malta y venímonos juntos. Llegamos a Barcelona y embarcámonos para
Génova y, después de llegados a aquella ciudad, nos partimos para Roma por tierra, que
llegamos en breve tiempo. Aquí me sucedió un trabajillo y fue que yo andaba malo de
unas tercianas y, aunque las pasaba en pie, un día fuime en casa de unas mujeres
españolas a entretener el tiempo. Llegaron dos gentileshombres italianos y subieron
arriba, porque los abrió la criada sin que yo ni las amas lo supiesen. Y entrados en la
sala me preguntaron qué hacía allí; respondí que hablando con aquellas señoras de la
tierra, que éramos paisanos. Dijéronme secamente «Anda, vete». Parecióme que era
menoscabo el irme de aquella manera y no me di por entendido, hablando con la una de
ella[s]. Tornáronme a decir «¿Aguarda que le echemos por la escalera abajo?». Yo ya
no podía sufrir más y levanté la espada que traía en las manos como enfermo, y di sobre
ellos, que todos dos rodaron las escaleras, y uno mal descalabrado. A las voces
cargaron los esbirros, que en aquella ciudad hay muchos, y, metiéndonos a todos en
una carroza, nos llevaron en casa del gobernador, donde, contado el caso, las mujeres y
ellos mismos me mandaron les diese la mano, y con esto nos fuimos cada uno a su casa.

VENENO EN ROMA QUE ME DIERON

Estos hombres, no teniendo ánimo de matarme, se aunaron con mi huésped y dijeron
que me dijese si quería sanar de aquellas tercianas: había un médico que en cuatro días
lo haría, sin llevar dinero, hasta sanarme. Yo, deseoso de la salud, dije que le trajese, y a
otro día entró el huésped y dijo que allí estaba. Entró. Era un hombre vestido de clérigo
y visitóme preguntándome del mal. Dijeselo y respondió «En cuatro días daré sano a
vuestra señoría y quédese con Dios, que mañana volveré. No se levante de la cama».
Fuese y díjome el huésped «Es el mayor médico de Roma y lo es del cardenal de
Joyosa». Aguardé a otro día que vino el buen médico, o diablo, y sacó una redomica de
vino tinto y un papel con unos polvos y, pidiendo un vaso, echó muchos de ellos dentro,
y vino de la redoma, y, revolviéndolo, me dijo «Bébaselo vuestra señoría». Hícelo y,
acabado de beber, me dijo que me arropase, que ya quedaba sano. Fuese, y dentro de
medio cuarto de hora se me comenzaron a ligar los dientes y las entrañas, que
reventaba, pidiendo confesión y echando por arriba cuanto tenía, y por abajo tinta negra.
Mi camarada el caballero fue corriendo en casa del embajador de España y llamó el
doctor, que era un portugués, que vino al punto. Y contado lo sucedido, y visto lo
echado por arriba y por abajo, ordenó remedios con que atajó, aunque con trabajo, tanto
mal; que después dijo que, para que se viese la gran robustez de mi estómago, quería dar
a una mula tanto como cabía en una cáscara de nuez, y darlo a una mula, y que había de
reventar en una hora, y a mí me había dado una cuchara de plata colmada.
Continuó hasta dejarme bueno. Y queriendo prender el huésped, dijo que no le
conocía, sino que él había venido a casa a ofrecerse y decir que era doctor del cardenal
de Joyosa y que él lo había hecho por mi bien; que nunca pareció ni volvió tal médico,
con que creí que había sido enviado de los dos que rodaron la escalera, con lo cual lo
dejamos.

CAPÍTULO 12

CÓMO, LLEGADO A MALTA, VOLVÍ A ESPAÑA Y FUI
CAPITÁN DE INFANTERÍA ESPANOLA, Y OTROS
SUCESOS

Y, estando bueno, me partí para Nápoles con mi camarada, y de allí a Mecina, y de
allí a Malta, donde hallé unas cartas de España y eran del rey; la una para el Gran
Maestre, en que le mandaba me diese licencia para ir a levantar una compañía de
infantería española que me había tocado en una leva de ocho capitanes que se habían
proveído. La otra era para mi, del secretario Bartolomé de Anaya, que lo era de la
Guerra, avisándome de la provisión. Tratóse de mi partida, que fue dentro de quince
días, y, de camino, me encomendó el Maestre pasase por Marsella a dar aviso a dos
galeras de la Religión para que pasasen con todo secreto a Cartagena a embarcar
doscientos mil ducados de la Religión, de sus expolios.
Pasé a Barcelona y a Madrid, todo en veintisiete días, desde Malta. Y cuando llegué
ya habían salido las compañías a levantar, y la mía había ido a Osuna a levantarla un
primo mío, alférez de Flandes, que, no habiéndole tocado compañía en la leva, pidió al
Consejo quería levantar la mía en mi nombre con titulo de alférez y que si no viniese a
tiempo de la embarcación, por estar tan lejos, se quedase con ella. Hizolo el Consejo,
pero yo me di tan buena maña que llegué antes de la embarcación más de cuatro meses,
que era para las islas Filipinas. Partíme de Madrid para Osuna, donde entré por la
posta con mis despachos que me dieron en Madrid, y cuando me vio el primo se quedó
muerto, que se tenía por capitán.

VENENO QUE ME DIERON EN OSUNA

Hablámonos, y ofrecíle todo lo que puede un buen amigo y deudo. Dijo que quería ir
la jornada. Yo lo estimé, mas no sabía su intención dañada, pues engañó a un pajecillo
de jineta que tenía y redució a que me diese solimán para matarme. Y la primera
vez me lo echó en dós huevos pasados por agua sin cáscara y los polvoreó de solimán y
azúcar; yo los migué con pan, como era sólito, y comí. Ya que había pasado una hora
comencé a basquear que me moría. Comencé a trocar. Llamaron los médicos,
mandaron confesarme al punto y pensaron me moría aquella noche, que daba lástima a
todo el lugar. A medianoche me dieron un cordial rico, y en él me echó el muchacho,
que fue por él, diez maravedís de solimán, con que al beberlo me hizo en la garganta
cuatro llagas y no lo pude acabar. Los médicos se volvían locos y fueron a la botica a
preguntar qué habían echado. Dijo que lo recetado. Diéronme con qué trocar, pero no
era menester, que la naturaleza lo hacía sin remedios, que fueron los verdaderos re-
medios.
Amaneció y vino el gobernador a verme, y lo mejor del lugar, y mandó me hiciesen
la comida en su casa y mandó prender a una mujer que estaba en casa sin que yo lo
supiera. Llegó la hora de comer y fue el muchacho por la comida y echó dentro otro
papel de solimán. Comí y luego me dieron las bascas ordinarias, que pensaban eran de
lo de atrás, y troqué toda la comida, que no estaba un punto en el cuerpo. Había un
soldado que se llamaba Fulano Nieto, que me quitaba las moscas, que era por agosto, y
estaba algo malillo de las partes bajas, y dije «Den eso que ha sobrado a Nieto, que bien
lo puede comer, aunque sea viernes». El pobre se lo comió y a las cinco de la tarde ya
estaba muerto.
A todo esto no había entrado a verme mi pariente el alférez, y el chiquillo fue en casa
de un alcalde a quien había yo dejado el despropiamiento de la ropa que tenía, que es
como testamento, y tenía la llave del baúl, y dijo «Señor, dice mi amo que me dé
vuesamerced la llave para sacar una cuenta de perdones que hay dentro», y era
verdad. Diósela el alcalde y sacó seiscientos reales y una cruz de Malta grande, que
pesaba doscientos cincuenta, y medias y ligas y bandas. Y no pareció en todo aquel día,
hasta que vino el alcalde a verme y dijo cómo me sentia. Dije «Mejor», y era que no
continuaba el darme el solimán. Preguntó por la cuenta para saber las indulgencias
que tenía. Dije «¿Qué cuenta?». Respondió «¿Vuesamerced no envió por la llave del
baúl al paje para sacarla?». Dije «No, señor». «Pues yo se la di», dijo.
Fuéronle a buscar y halláronle en casa de un arriero que tenía concertado para irse a
Sevilla. Trajéronle delante de mí y, preguntando por la llave del baúl, la sacó y,
abriéndole, hallaron menos lo referido. Preguntéle dónde tenía• lo que faltaba de allí;
dijo que escondido. Fueron con él y trájose todo menos veintiséis reales, que dije yo
«Búsquenle esas faldriqueras», y haciéndolo le hallaron un papel con solimán, y
abriéndole dijo la huéspeda «¡Ay, señores, que esto es el rejalgar que daban al señor
capitán!». Y reconocido que era solimán, le dije «¡Traidor! ¿Qué te había hecho yo que
me has querido matar con este solimán?». Respondió «Ese papel me le hallé en la
calle». Yo dije al alcalde «Señor, envíe vuesamerced por el verdugo, que éste dirá la
verdad». Respondió el alcalde «Más vale que lo llevemos a la cárcel y que
jurídicamente se haga proceso y dé tormento, y sabremos quién es la causa». Parecióme
muy bien y llamé al alférez, que no le había visto en dos días, y mandé que, con cuatro
soldados, llevase a la cárcel a aquel muchacho y estuviese, porque temía. Hízolo, y
como era la causa del mal, llevólo por la iglesia de Santo Domingo y aconsejó se
metiese dentro, como lo hizo, y aconsejó a los frailes no lo entregasen, porque lo
ahorcaría luego el capitán. Los frailes lo hicieron y enviaron aquella noche a Sevilla.
Como faltó la causa del solimán, fui mejorando, que quiso Dios guardarme para lo
que El sabe. Sané y levantéme con gusto del pueblo y determinéme el ir a Sevilla con
seis soldados, y en ella hice diligencia de buscar el muchacho, que con facilidad lo hallé
y traje a Osuna, que lo deseaban para darle un castigo ejemplar. Hízose la causa, púsose
a cuestión de tormento. Confesó haberlo hecho por orden del alférez, ofreciéndole
grandes dádivas. Quisieron ahorcarlo, pero no le hallaron con edad y, así, le dieron cien
azotes en la cárcel, a un poste, y cortaron los dos dedos de cada mano con que
polvoreaba el solimán.
En la confesión que yo hice en el artículo de muerte, ofrecí a Dios, delante el
confesor, de perdonar a quien hubiera sido la causa de mi muerte, que la tal palabra me
la pedía el confesor, sabiendo que era el alférez a quien el gobernador quiso prender,
mas no lo consentí yo. Y así, le envié a llamar al punto que el muchacho confesó y le
dije «Vuesamerced se vaya con Dios y no pregunte la causa, y si ha menester algo,
dígalo, que se lo daré». Quedóse muerto y fuese dentro de una hora, pareciéndole no me
arrepintiese. Supe después se había ido a las Indias, que nunca más ha aparecido en
España. Con todo quedé por más de dos años casi tullido de los dedos de los pies y
manos, que siempre me hormigueaban, además de haberme quitado la fuerza que tenía.
Dijeron los médicos que el no haberme muerto fue el estar el estómago habituado del
veneno que me dieron en Roma tan poco tiempo había.
Vino el comisario, tomó muestra a mi compañía y marchamos la vuelta de Sanlúcar,
donde estaba la armada aprestada que había de ir a Filipinas. Tocóme embarcar en el
galeón «La Concepción» por cabo de tres compañías que iban dentro. Salimos de Sanlú-
car la vuelta de Cádiz, para de allí hacer la partencia a Filipinas. En este tiempo vino
orden del rey para que no fuésemos, sino que nos incorporásemos con la Armada Real y
los galeones de la plata y todas las galeras de España, y fuésemos a Gibraltar, adonde
decían iba a pasar una armada de Holanda. Iba el príncipe Filiberto por general de
todo.
A la entrada de Cádiz hay un escollo debajo del agúa catorce palmos, que llaman El
Diamante, en el cual se han perdido muchos navíos; y yo, como más desgraciado, topé
en él y perdíme a vista de toda la armada. No se ahogó nadie porque me socorrieron
todas las chalupas de la armada, y el señor marqués de Santa Cruz con su capitana.
Mandó el príncipe que me prendiesen, lleváronme al galeón, en que anduve embarcado
toda aquella jornada, aunque no saltaba en tierra, hasta que en el Consejo de Guerra me
libraron, viendo no tenía yo culpa. Anduvimos de Gibraltar a Cabo Espartel con
algunos navíos de la armada en aquel estrecho más de tres meses, aguardando la armada
que jamás vimos. Esto fue por enero de 1616, y por marzo o abril vino orden que se
deshiciese aquella armada, como se hizo, y en particular la que había de ir a Filipinas,
donde era harto menester. Mandóse que los seis galeones se agregasen a la Armada Real
y que la infantería, que era la mejor del mundo, pasase a Lombardía a cargo de don
Carlos de Ibarra, que la llevó. Era maestre de campo de estos dos mil y quinientos
hombres don Pedro Esteban de Avila. Y yo quedé en España con otro capitán, por venir
la orden en esta forma en un capítulo de carta escrita al marqués de Santa Cruz del rey:
«Por cuanto conviene a España reforzar los tercios de Lombardía, será bien que pase el
de don Pedro Esteban de ÁvÍla, que había de ir a Filipinas, no dejando los doscientos
hombres que nos había parecido con los capitanes prácticos de la navegación, que son
Contreras y Cornejo, que pueden quedarse para levantar gente de nuevo para ese
efecto»
Con esto nos quedamos y fuimos a la corte con orden del marqués, donde nos
detuvieron más de seis meses, hasta que se me ordenó que fuese, por la Junta de Guerra
de Indias, a Sevilla luego, que en el camino me alcanzaría la orden de lo que había de
hacer. Llamóme el presidente don Fernando Carrillo, que lo era de aquel Consejo, y,
mandándome dar quinientos escudos, aquella tarde tomé mulas para Sevilla, donde
partí. En Córdoba me alcanzó un pliego en que se me ordenaba me viese con el
presidente de la Contratación de Sevilla. Hícelo en llegando, el cual me mandó me
partiese a Sanlúcar, que el duque de Medina me daría la orden.
Vime con su Excelencia y de secreto me ordenó pasase a Cádiz con una orden al
gobernador de aquella ciudad y que a las nueve de la mañana estarían allí dos galeras
para embarcar la infantería. Vime con el gobernador de Cádiz, al cual se le ordenaba
que tocase cajas para socorrer las compañías que tenía allí de las flotas, y que en
estando en la casa del rey recogidos, embarcase número de doscientos hombres a mi
satisfacción en las dos galeras y me los entregase sin oficiales ningunos mayores; digo
el capitán, alférez y sargento. Hízose con el secreto que requería porque no se
embarcara uno tan solo, porque estos soldados de este presidio y flotas son los rufianes
del Andalucía madrigados. Partíme para Sanlúcar, donde tenía prevenidos el duque
dos galeones de cuatrocientas toneladas con su artillería y bastimentos necesarios,
además de los pertrechos que se llevaba de pólvora y cuerda y plomo para la plaza que
se iba a socorrer.
Llegué a Sanlúcar. Mandóme el duque embarcase la infantería en los galeones.
Hícelo metiendo en cada uno ciento, que se vieron como asaltados sin saber lo que les
había sucedido. Llegó el otro capitán de la corte para el otro galeón y embarcámonos
para hacer nuestro viaje, que era ir a socorrer a Puerto Rico en las Indias, que se decía
estaba sitiado de holandeses
Estuve aguardando el tiempo en Los Pozuelos, que llaman, junto a La Barra, y los
soldados, como todos eran forzados y dejaban las amigas de tantos años, y eran los
oficiales de la muerte de la Andalucía, casi hacían burla de mí, porque diciendo «¡Ea,
señores! ¡Abajo, que es ya noche!», respondían «¿Somos gallinas que nos hemos de
acostar con día? ¡Acuéstese su ánima!». Yo me veía atribulado y no dormía pensando
cómo se había de hacer este viaje, porque si no eran quince marineros y seis artilleros,
no tenía de mi parte otra gente, que todos los cien soldados eran enemigos. Y así me
valí de la industria, y poniendo los ojos en uno de los que me parecía más valiente y a
quien ellos tenían respeto, que también entre ellos hay quien obedezcan los valientes, y
llamándole, dije «¡Ah, señor Juan Gómez! ¡Venga acá!», y metíle en la cámara de popa
y dije «¿Cuánto ha que sirve al Rey?». Dijo «Habrá cinco años, en Cádiz y en
Larache, de donde me huí, y un viaje de flota». Respondí «Cierto que le he cobrado
afición y que me pesa no tener una bandera que le dar». Quedó muy pagado de esto y
dijo «Otros lo hicieran peor que no yo». Yo le dije «Pues si quiere ser sargento de esta
compañía, váyase a tierra y siente la plaza, y si no tiene dinero para comprar una
alabarda, yo se lo daré». Dijo «Aun tengo cincuenta pesos, ya que vuesamerced me
honra». Es a saber que había hombre que, porque le dejasen ir a tierra, daba doscientos
reales de a ocho. Dile un papel para el contador y dije «Vaya vuesamerced, que escalón
es para ser alférez, y mire que me fío de vuesamerced».
Embarcóse en la barca y fue a tierra y sentó la plaza y volvió al punto con su
alabarda. Cuando los valientes le vieron sargento dieron su negocio por acabado, y
ejecutado lo que tenían determinado. Y, llamando al sargento en la cámara, le dije «Ya
vuesamerced es otro de lo que era, porque siendo oficial cualquier delito es traición, lo
que no es en el soldado; dígame, por vida del sargento, quién de éstos son los más
perniciosos y valientes». Dijo «Calle vuesamerced, que son unos pobretes. Sólo Calde-
rón y Montañés son casi hombres de bien». Dije «Pues, a la noche, cuando los
mandemos recoger, hállese allí con su espada desnuda». «¿Para qué, señor?, que ¡voto a
Cristo!, con un garrote basta.» «No —dije yo—, que a los soldados no se les castigan
con palo, sino con espada, cuando son desvergonzados.» Vino la noche y dije, como era
sólito «¡Ea, señores! ¡Abajo, que es ya hora!». Respondieron con la insolencia ordinaria
«¡Acuéstese su ánima!». Yo, que estaba cerca del Calderón, alcé y dile tan gran
cuchillada que se veían los sesos, y dije «¡Ah, pícaros insolentes! ¡Abajo!». En un punto
estaba cada uno en su rancho, como unas ovejas. Decíanme «Señor capitán, que se
muere Calderón». «Confiésenlo y échenlo a la mar», decía yo, y, por otra parte, que le
curasen. Hice al punto echar en el cepo al Montañés, con que quedó esta gente tan
sujeta que aún echar «¡Voto a Cristo!», no se echó en todo el viaje, porque el que le
echaba le hacía estar en pie una hora con un morrión fuerte que pesaba veinte libras en
la cabeza y con un peto que pesaba treinta. Avisé al otro capitán hiciese lo mismo,
aunque, como supieron lo sucedido en mi galeón, se deshizo el consejo que tenían,
que era, en saliendo del puerto, embestir en tierra, en Arenas Gordas, y huirse todos,
y, si se lo impidiera yo, matarme.

CAPÍTULO 13

EN QUE CUENTO EL VIAJE QUE HICE A LAS INDIAS Y
LOS SUCESOS DE ÉL

Salí del puerto y navegué cuarenta y seis días sin ver más tierra que las Canarias.
Llegué a las islas de Matalino, hice agua allí, donde vi algunos indios salvajes, aunque
con la comunicación de las flotas se aseguran a bajar, pero ninguno de los nuestros no,
porque han cogido algunos y se los, comen. Pasé la vuelta de mi viaje disminuyendo
altura y llegué a las Vírgenes Gordas, que son otras islas deshabitadas. Fuime la
vuelta del pasaje de Puerto Rico, que es un canal angosto, donde ordinario están
corsarios ingleses y holandeses y franceses. Llegué de noche y fui en persona a
reconocerle con una barca bien armada, dejando los galeones fuera del canal, que es
corto, y en él hay dos puertos muy buenos. No hallé bajel ninguno y atravesé,
amaneciendo casi, a la boca de Puerto Rico y, arbolando mis banderas, entré, que fui
muy bien recibido de don Felipe de Viamonte y Navarra, gobernador de aquella isla.
Díjome era milagro no haber encontrado con Guatarral, corsario inglés que andaba
por allí con cinco navíos, tres grandes y dos chicos, y que cada día le molestaba.
Desembarqué la pólvora que dijo era menester, y cuerda y plomo y algunas armas de
fuego, con que el buen gobernador quedó contento. Pidióme cuarenta soldados que le
dejase para reforzar el presidio, que en mi vida me vi en más confusión, porque no
quería quedar ninguno y todos casi lloraban en quedar allí, y tenían razón, porque era
quedar esclavos eternos. Yo les dije «Hijos, esto es forzoso el dejar aquí cuarenta
soldados, pero vuesasmercedes se han de condenar a sí mismos, que yo no he de señalar
a nadie, ni a un criado que traigo, que si le toca ha de quedar».
Hice tantas boletas como soldados, y entre ellas cuarenta negras, y metiéndolas en un
cántaro, juntas y revueltas, iba llamando por las listas y decía «Vuesamerced meta la
mano, y si saca negra se habrá de quedar». Fuéronlo haciendo así y era de ver, cuando
sacaban negra, cómo se quedaban. Ultimamente, viendo la justificación y que era
forzoso, se consolaron, y más viendo que le tocó a un criado mío que me servia de
barbero, el cual quedó el primero.
En este puerto había dos bajeles que habían de ir a Santo Domingo, que es la corte de
la isla Española, donde hay presidente y oidores, y la tierra primera que pisaron
españoles. Eran los navíos españoles, habían de cargar cueros de toros y jengibre, que
hay en cantidad, y fuéronse conmigo. Llegué al puerto de Santo Domingo, que fui bien
recibido, y comencé a poner en ejecución un fuertecillo que llevaba orden de hacer a la
entrada del río.
De allí a dos días vino nueva cómo Guatarral estaba dado fondo con sus cinco
bajeles cerca de allí. Traté con el presidente de ir a buscarlos y parecióle bien, aunque
los dueños de los navios se protestaban que si se perdiesen se los habían de pagar. Armé
los dos que traje de Puerto Rico y otro que había venido de Cabo Verde cargado de
negros, y con los míos sali del puerto, como que éramos bajeles de mercaduria,
camino de donde estaban. Y como el enemigo nos vio, hice que tomásemos la vuelta
como que huíamos. Cargaron velas los enemigos sobre nosotros, que de industria no
huíamos, y en poco rato estuvimos juntos. Volvíles la proa y arbolé mis estandartes y
comenzamos a darles, y ellos a nosotros. Eran mejores bajeles a la vela que nosotros y
así, cuando querían alcanzar o huir, lo hacían, que fue causa no se me quedase alguno
en las unas. Peleóse y tocóle al almirante de ellos el morir de un balazo y conocieron
éramos bajeles de armada y no mercantes, que andábamos en su busca, con lo cual se
fueron, y yo volví a Santo Domingo, donde acabé la fortificación y me partí a Cuba,
donde hice otro reductillo en cuatro días. Quedaron diez soldados. En Santo Domingo
habia dejado cincuenta soldados y los tres bajeles, que ya no traía más que el uno, pero
bien armado.

Cuba es un lugar en la isla de Cuba, que es en la que está fabricada La Habana y El
Bayamo y otros lugares que no me acuerdo. Salí de Santiago de Cuba y en la isla de
Pinos topé un bajel dado fondo; peleé con él muy poco. Era inglés, de los cinco de
Guatarral. Díjome çómo se había ido y desembocado la canal de Bahama, y que le
había muerto a su hijo, que era almirante, y otras trece personas y que, de temor, se
había ido a Inglaterra con algunas presas que llevaba. Avisé al presidente de ello y al
gobernador de Puerto Rico porque no estuviesen con ciudado. Tenía este bajel palo del
Brasil dentro y alguna azúcar que había tomado. Eran veinte y un inglés. Trájelos a
La Habana, donde estuvieron hasta que llegó la flota y los llevó a España. Entregué
los pertrechos que me habían quedado y la infantería a Sancho de Alquiza, capitán
general que era de aquella isla y todos los lugares de él. Y en la flota que vino a España,
me vine con don Carlos de Ibarra que era general de ella el año de 1618. Fui y vine el
de 1619.
Llegué a Sanlúcar y pasé a Sevilla, donde topé enfermo al señor Juan Ruiz de
Contreras, que estaba despachando una armada para Filipinas. Y luego, al punto que
llegué, me dijo tenía orden del rey para que le asistiese. Hícelo y envióme al punto a
Borgo, que es donde se aprestaban seis galeones grandes y dos pataches. Trabajé
conforme la orden que me dio hasta que los bajé abajo a Sanlúcar, fuera de carenas, que
es decir, despalmados. Metiéronse bastimentos y la artillería necesaria y la infantería,
que eran más de mil hombres, harto buenos, sin el marinaje y artilleros. Era general de
esta armada don Fulano Zoazola, del hábito de Santiago, que iba de mala gana como
toda la demás gente, y así tuvieron el fin, porque a trece días después de partidos con
buen tiempo del puerto de Cádiz, les dio una tormenta que vinieron a perderse a seis
leguas de donde salieron. Díjose, por cierto, que fue causa el almirante, que no era
marinero ni había entrado en la mar jamás. Llamábase Fulano Figueroa y después, para
enmendarlo, le hicieron almirante de una flota por sustentar el yerro primero.
Embistió en tierra la capitana y almiranta en un mismo paraje, y de la capitana no
se salvé una astilla, con ser un galeón que era de más de ochocientas toneladas y
cuarenta piezas de bronce gruesas. Ahogóse el general y toda, la gente, que no se salvé
más de cuatro personas. De la almiranta se salvaron casi todos, y el galeón no se deshizo
tan presto, porque dio en más fondo. Los otros corrieron al Estrecho y se perdió otro en
Tarifa y otro en Gibraltar y otro en Cabo de Gata; los dos pataches se salvaron. Este
fin tuvo esta armada, y para aderezarlo, como si yo tuviera la culpa, me enviaron con
dos tartanas a Tarifa, o su playa, por treinta piezas de bronce que habían sacado del
galeón que se perdió. Y se supo estaban dos galeones de Argel para querer embarcar la
artillería, mas la gente de tierra no se lo consentía; y llegado con mis dos tartanas,
embarqué las piezas, y llevaba, orden que si los enemigos me apretasen, o que me
rindiesen si llegaban a pelear conmigo, me fuese a fondo con toda la artillería, porque
no se aprovechasen de ella, y ordenase a la otra tartana hiciese lo mismo. Yo me vine
tierra a tierra y los enemigos a la mar, con que no pudieron hacerme mal, y traje la
artillería en salvamento.
De allí a pocos días llegó a Cádiz nueva cómo La Mámora quedaba sitiada por mar
y tierra, con treinta mil moros por tierra y que la habían dado tres asaltos, y por la mar
había veintiocho galeones de guerra, para estorbar el socorro, de turcos y holandeses.
Mandó el duque de Medina Sidonia se proveyese luego socorro, y el señor don Fadrique
de Toledo se aprestó al punto con los galeones de su armada; pero no tuvo tiempo
para hacer el viaje y, así, aprestaron dos tartanas con pólvora y cuerda y balas, que era
de lo que carecían, pues habían quemado hasta las cuerdas con que sacaban agua de los
pozos o cisternas y las con que tenían los catres, que son las camas en que duermen los
soldados. Y habiendo visto yo cómo se habían de enviar aquellas tartanas, y que a los
capitanes del presidio les habían mandado escoger alguna gente de la más granada de
sus compañías y no había ninguno ofrecídose, llegué al duque y dije: «Señor, suplico a
Vuestra Excelencia me dé este viaje, y por esta merced póngaseme en el rostro una ese
y un clavo. Estimólo y mandó que fuese.
Como vieron los capitanes del presidio que se me había dado a mí, fueron al duque y
dijeron que aquello tocaba a un capitán de ellos, por estar a orden de Su Excelencia, y
no a mi, que no lo estaba, y que estaba allí al apresto de la armada de Filipinas. Súpelo
yo y dije públicamente que aquello se me había dado a mi habiéndolo pedido, después
que les avisaron a ellos para que aprestasen alguna gente de sus compañías y que, no
habiendo quien lo pidiese, lo pedí yo, que capitán era de infantería y más antiguo que
algunos; que al que le pareciese otra cosa lo aguardaba en Santa Catalina para matarme
con él. Y caminando hacia el puesto señalado, vino un ayudante de parte del duque que
me llamaba. Volví y mandóme trajese una licencia del señor Juan Ruiz de Contreras, a
cuya orden estaba, y traída, me dieron la orden de lo que había de hacer y, en particular,
que con mi buena fortuna, Dios mediante, metiese aquel socorro o me dejase hacer
pedazos.

CAPÍTULO 14

CÓMO SOCORRÍ LA FUERZA DE LA MÁMORA,
Y OTROS SUCESOS

Partí y medí el tiempo, que hay cuarenta y dos leguas, de suerte que me amaneció en
medio de los veintiocho bajeles. Tuve tan buen tiempo, de suerte, que como lo pensé me
sucedió: juzgué que la armada del enemigo había de estar dada fondo por lo menos una
legua a la mar, por estar largos de la artillería y porque aquella barra es brava y
levanta tantos golpes de mar, que a la legua que yo digo comienzan a hacer escala. Y
hallándome yo al amanecer en medio de ellos, iba mi camino hacia dentro, que las
escalas de los golpes de mar me iban entrando, y si alguno se determinaba a seguirme,
era fuerza que entrase tras mí en el río o diese al través en la playa. Pues fue como lo he
dicho, que cuando me vieron ya no pudieron remediarlo, si no fue tirarme algunos
mosquetazos y cañonazos, que fueron pocos, porque el tiempo fue tan breve que no
pudieron hacer mal.
Entré, que fui la paloma del diluvio. Diéronme mil abrazos el buen viejo Lechuga,
que era Gobernador de aquella plaza y la había defendido como tan aleroso. Comenzóse
a desembarcar los pertrechos, y los navíos a zarpar, pareciéndoles que la Armada Real
estaría con ellos presto, y pensaban bien, que estuvo a otro día en la tarde allí. Yo me fui
a comer con el gobernador y, estándolo haciendo, tocaron arma, y, avisando lo que era,
dijeron que seis matasietes que venían de paz. Mandó los abriesen y llevasen a la casa
de un judío que hay allí intérprete, que era sólito el ir allí, y les daban de comer, y
tabaco
humo, que así los hallé yo. Estos matasiete[s] son sus nombres así por ser caballeros,
y lo parecían, porque les vi muy lindos tahalíes bordados y muy lindos borceguíes
y buenas aljubas y bonetes de Fez, diferente que los trajes de aquellos moros.
Ordenó el maestre de campo Lechuga fuesen subiendo toda la pólvora y cuerda por
delante de la casa donde estaban los moros, y asimismo los soldados que traje, que
estaban con buenos vestidos, y los de allí en cueros.
Fuimos a la casa de los moros. Levantáronse y saludámonos; tornáronse a sentar y
brindáronnos y bebimos, que lo beben tan bien como los ganapanes de Madrid.
Comenzó a pasar los pertrechos, que lo vieron bien y a los soldados. Dijeron que venían
a pedir licencia al gobernador para irse aquella tarde siete mil de estos matasiete[s] y
que todos los demás se irían aquella noche; que le querían por amigo y que le enviarían
quinientos carneros y treinta vacas a vender, que se los comprase. Dijo que sí haría;
dioles mucho tabaco, que es el mayor regalo que se les puede hacer. Y no pueden vivir
sin La Mamora, porque todo cuanto hurtan lo traen a vender allí, y lo que no hurtan.
Dan un carnero como un buey por cuatro reales, y una vaca por dieciséis, y una fanega
de trigo por tres reales, y una gallina por medio real. Con esto se partieron y yo me
apresté para partirme.
Esta La Mámora es un río, que a la boca de él hay la barra dicha, pero entran navíos
gruesos dentro y, si los enemigos le tuvieran, hicieran gran daño a España, porque no
está a más dé cuarenta y dos leguas de Cádiz, y como las flotas entran y salen en aquel
puerto o en Sanlúcar, con facilidad podían hacer gran daño tomando los bajeles y en un
día volverse a su casa, sin tener necesidad de hacer navegación larga, de ir a Argel y
Túnez, además del riesgo que tienen de pasar el Estrecho de Gibraltar. Sube este río
hasta Tremecén, treinta leguas arriba, y es fondable por todas partes, y, con la
comodidad de los bastimentos tan baratos, podían aprestar armada muy buena allí, que
por eso los holandeses estaban tan golosos de él.
Para que se vea el mal que nos podían hacer de esta Mámora, por ser tan fondable, y
lo dicho, para entrar galeones gruesos: tres leguas en la misma costa hay un lugar que
llaman Zale, con una fortaleza muy buena, que son de ella dueños los nioriscos
andaluces, y hay un riachuelo, que no caben sino bajelillos chicos, como tartanas y
pataches, y con ellos nos destruyen la costa de España y no hay año que no entren en
este Zale más de quinientos esclavos, tomados en bajeles de la costa nuestra, que vienen
de las Indias, y de las Terceras y Canarias, y del Brasil y Fernambuco, y, en
acabando de hacer la presa, en una noche están en casa; y la hacen en la costa de
Portugal, en día y noche. Dirán que salgo del cuento de mi vida y me meto en historia.
Pues a fe que pudiera meterme.
Salí aquella noche de la barra de La Mámora y amanecí en Cádiz, digo entré antes de
mediodía. Fui a Conil, donde estaba el duque. Convidóme a comer y, sobre comida,
leyó la carta de creencia que traía del gobernador para el rey, que se holgó de verla y
dijo no perdiese tiempo en ir a Madrid. Diome una carta para el rey y un[a] certificación
honrada, que la estimo mucho, y en un bolsillo cien doblones, que decían los criados
que era la mayor hazaña que había hecho en su vida. Fui al puerto de Santa María,
donde el proveedor de las fronteras me dio ciento y cincuenta escudos para que corriese
la posta, que en tres días y medio me puse en Madrid, de manera que en nueve días
entré en Madrid, saliendo de España, yendo a Berbería, volviendo de Berbería a España
y de allí a la corte, que han ciento y ocho leguas de tierra desde Cádiz. Fuime a apear a
palacio y subí en cuerpo al cuarto del rey, donde salió el señor don Baltasar de
Zúñiga, que esté en el cielo, y le di razón de todo. Y luego entré con su Excelencia
delante del rey e hincando la rodilla le di las dos cartas, la de creencia y la del duque;
dióselas al señor don Baltasar. Comenzóme a preguntar el rey las cosas de La Mámora;
dijo el señor don Baltasar «A él se remite Lechuga por su carta». Informé de todo que
Su Majestad gustaba y tanto que el cordón que tenía pendiente el hábito me le asió, y,
dando con él vueltas, me preguntaba y yo respondía. Y de allí a un poco dijo el señor
don Baltasar «Váyase a reposar, que vendrá cansado». Bajé por los patios, y estaba el
portero del Consejo de Estado, que era día de él, aguardándome y llevóme adentro, que
los señores estaban todos en pie. Preguntáronme el estado de las cosas; informé, que
quedaron satisfechos. Con que me fui y puse a caballo en mis postas, camino de casa de
un tío que tengo en aquella corte, correo mayor de Portugal. Reposé, que lo había
menester.
A otro día vino un alabardero a mi posada, de parte del señor don Baltasar, a
llamarme. Fui muy contento y, aunque estaba con mucha gente que le quería hablar,
hicieron lugar. Sentóse en una silla y mandóme sentar en otra y, preguntándome qué
puestos había ocupado, porque quería Su Majestad hacerme merced, dije que había sido
capitán de infantería española y que, al presente, estaba en el apresto de la armada de
Filipinas y recogiendo los destrozos de ella, con cincuenta escudos de sueldo al mes,
más había de dos años. Preguntó a qué me inclinaba y tenía puestos los ojos. Dije
«Señor, yo no soy soberbio por mis servicios; el Consejo me ha consultado en una plaza
de almirante de una flota». Dijo «¡Jesús, señor capitán!, darásele a vuesamerced al
punto, con una ayudilla de costa». Yo le besé la mano por ello y dijo que acudiese al
secretario Juan de Ynsastigui, que él me daría el despacho. Fuime contento a mi casa y a
otro día entré a buscar al Ynsástigui en la covachuela y topé con el señor don
Baltasar, el cual me dijo «¿Cómo va? Tome vuesamerced ese despacho y ese billete y
tenga paciencia, que Su Majestad, al presente, no puede más en materia de maravedís».
Yo dije «Señor, no he menester dinero si hay tanta falta. Reputación busco, que no
dinero». Y volviéndole el billete no quiso que lo dejase, estimando en mucho mi
liberalidad, como lo dijo. El billete era de trescientos ducados en plata doble y el otro un
decreto para don Fernando Carrillo, presidente de Indias. Llevéle al presidente y me
recibió con cara de hereje, que no tenía otra, y me despidió secamente; que a su tiempo
se haría lo que Su Majestad mandaba.
Pasó uno y dos meses, y no consultaba la plaza. Acudí al señor don Baltasar; diome
un billete en que le mandaba anticipase la consulta, porque el rey deseaba hacerme
merced. Llevéle, y el buen hereje debía de estar prendado por alguno, que consultó la
plaza dejándome fuera, que luego lo supe y sin más dilación me fui a la audiencia del
rey, que entonces busçaban en los corredores quien le quisiese hablar, y dije «Señor, yo
he servido a Vuesa Majestad veinticinco años en muchas partes, como parece por este
memorial, y por el servicio último de haber metido el socorro en La Mámora. Vuesa
Majestad me hizo merced de un decreto para que me diesen la plaza de almirante de una
flota, que por mis servicios he estado consultado en ella otras veces y, ahora, man-
dándomela dar Vuesa Majestad, aún no me ha consultado el presidente». Cogió el
memorial, arrebatándomele de las manos, y, volviendo las espaldas, se fue y nos dejó a
todos éonfusos, porque era recién heredado.
Fuime a consolar con el señor don Baltasar y a darle mi queja como a mi jefe. Y
estando aguardando hora, llegó el presidente con su cara dicha, que alguna píldora
traía o le habían enviado de arriba. Y entrando, me entré con él, aunque no me dejaba el
portero o un gentilhombre que estaba allí. Dije «Déjeme vuesamerced, que vengo a lo
que el señor presidente». Entré, y estaba el señor don Baltasar, con el conde de
Monterrey, mi señor, y un fraile dominico, hijo del conde de Benavente, y el señor
don Baltasar en medio de la sala, en pie, con el presidente. Me arrimé y dije «Suplico a
Vuesa Excelencia pregunte al señor presidente si tiene satisfacción de mi persona».
Respondió con las manos abiertas «Señor, que es muy honrado soldado y le enviamos a
Puerto Rico y lo hizo muy bien». A esto le dije yo «Pues si soy tan honrado, ¿por qué
Vuesa Señoría no me consultó, habiéndolo mandado el rey e intervenido Su Excelencia
con otro papel?». Dijo «Otra vez, señor. Ya está todo hecho». Y dije yo entonces «No le
crea, Vuesa Excelencia, que le está engañando como me engañó a mí». Entonces dio
una gran voz «¡Hombre, ya está todo hecho!». Respondió el señor don Baltasar «Mire,
Vuesa Señoría, que el rey desea hacer merced al capitán».

MUERTE DE DON FERNANDO CARRILLO, PRESIDENTE DE INDIAS

No pudo hablar, que se le añudé el garguero, y salió de allí; pero antes que llegase
a la calle cayó sin sentido. Metiéronle en el coche, por muerto, y lleváronle a casa y
dieron garrotes en los brazos y piernas para que volviese en sí: Dios le volvió su
juicio y confesó y murió. ¡Dios le perdone el mal que me hizo!, que él se quedó sin vida
y yo sin almirantazgo, porque el señor don Baltasar, que era mi jefe, decía que no era
razón que se me hiciese merced por haber muerto un ministro, ¡como si yo le hubiera
dado algún arcabuzazo! No tuviera más culpa algún papel que debió de venir de arriba,
que yo he oído que aquél debió de darle la muerte.
Con esto me retiré de palacio y no entraba en él. Pasaron más de seis meses, cuando
un día, estando descuidado, entró a buscarme un alabardero de parte del señor conde de
Olivares. Fui con cuidado a ver lo que me quería y, entrando por la sala donde estaba, lo
primero que me dijo «Señor capitán Contreras, no me dé quejas, que bien veo las tiene.
El rey ha resuelto el hacer una armada para guardar el Estrecho de Gibraltar y yo soy el
general de ella. Y en la Junta de Armadas se han nombrado dieciséis capitanes traídos
de diferentes partes, prácticos y de experiencia. Y de los dos que se han escogido de los
que están en esta corte, es el uno el maese de campo don Pedro Osorio, y vuesamerced
el otro; estímelo». Yo agradecí la merced que Su Excelencia me hacia y díjele «Señor,
yo me hallo con cincuenta escudos de sueldo y he sido capitán dos veces. No se
compate ahora tornar a tomar compañía y dejar los cincuenta escudos que tengo en la
armada». Y díjome «No hay qué tratar, que sus acrecentamientos corren por mi
cuenta». Con que le dije «Pues sírvase Vuesa Excelencia que esta compañía la levante
en esta corte». Dijo que jamás se había hecho, pero que, por contentarme, lo trataría con
Su Majestad. Y lo consiguió, que levantamos los dos, el maestre de campo y yo, siendo
los primeros capitanes que, estando presente la corte, hayan levantado gente y
enarbolado banderas.

CAPÍTULO 15

DONDE [CUENTO] QUE LEVANTÉ OTRA COMPAÑÍA DE
INFANTERÍA EN MADRID, EN ANTÓN MARTÍN, Y OTROS
SUCESOS

La mía se enarbolé en Antón Martín, y en veintisiete días levanté trescientos y doce
soldados, que salí con ellos a los ojos de toda la corte, en orden, y yo delante: que este
consuelo tuvo mi buena madre de muchos pesares que ha tenido en este mundo de mis
trabajos. Al segundo día que salí de la corte hubo en ella nueva que me había muerto en
Getafe, cosa que se sintió en Madrid como si yo fuera un gran señor, y de esto pongo
por testigo a quien entonces se hallé allí. Dicen que en el juego de la pelota lo dijo el
marqués de Balcarrota, que no tuvo otro origen. Para lo cual despaché el señor don
Francisco de Contreras, presidente de Castilla, correos a saber la verdad, para el castigo
si acaso hubiera sucedido como lo dijeron. Yo despaché cómo estaba bueno, que se
holgaron en la corte: tanto importa el estar bienquisto. Saqué de esta muerte falsa que
me dijeron algunas buenas personas más de quinientas misas en el Buen Suceso; supe
fueron más de trescientas las que se dieron limosna para decir. Súpelo después, del
mayordomo del Hospital, estando pretendiendo, que se llamaba don Diego de Córdoba.
Pasé a Cádiz con mi compañía y entré con más de trescientos soldados.
Embarcámonos y fuimos al Estrecho, que era nuestro sitio. Iba esta armada a orden de
don Juan Fajardo, general de ella. Embarquéme en el galeón almiranta de Nápoles, que
en esta escuadra había seis bajeles famosos de que era general Francisco de Ribera, que
lucía toda esta armada con sus bajeles y su valor. Eran de los que tenía en Nápoles el
señor duque de Osuna, y plugiera a Dios fuera general de toda esta armada el buen
Ribera, que diferentemente hubiera sido servido Su Majestad, y nosotros ganado
reputación. Toda esta armada tenía veinte y dos galeones gruesos y tres pataches.
Salíamos de Gibraltar algunos navíos que señalaban a encontrar algunos de turcos que
pasaban por el Estrecho costeando la Africa, aunque no hay de distancia en este
Estrecho de España a Berbería más de tres leguas, en que se hicieron algunas presas.
Al cabo de muchos días, a seis de octubre 1624, encontramos con la armáda de
Holanda, que traía ochenta y dos velas, aunque no eran todos de guerra. Fuimos a
encontrarlos sobre Málaga, a la mar quince leguas. Lo que sé decir que el galeón
capitana de Ribera y el mío, que era su almiranta, llegamos a pelear a las cuatro de la
tarde con los enemigos: el galeón de Ribera y la capitana de don Juan Fajardo y la
almiranta en que iba yo. Lo que sucedió no se puede decir, más que los enemigos se
fueron riendo, que si a la capitana de Ribera no le hubieran dado un cañonazo entre dos
aguas, que fue menester dar un borde para poderlo remediar, sabe Dios cómo les
hubiera ido a los enemigos. Este cañonazo le dieron, no siendo la bala cristiana ni de los
bajeles del enemigo. Pasemos adelante, que anocheció, y aquella noche se fueron a
pasar el Estrecho sin que nadie los diera pesadumbre, lo que jamás ellos pensaron, y
dieran por partido el haber perdido la cuarta parte de sus bajeles, como se dijo
después. Volvímonos a Gibraltar y de allí se quedó don Juan Fajardo, y con Ribera
fuimos en busca de los galeones de la plata, que la topamos y trajimos a Sanlúcar,
además de dos navíos, que tomamos de turcos en el camino y una presa que llevaban de
azúcar.
Volvimos a invernar a Gibraltar y caí malo. Diome veinte días de licencia para ir a
convalecer a Sevilla, y, porque expiré, me proveyó la compañía don Juan Fajardo.
Fuime a la corte, quejéme e hizome merced Su Majestad del gobierno de quinientos
infantes que habían de ir a servir en cuatro compañías a las galeras de Génova.
Levanté la infantería y, estando para marchar, me dieron orden fuese con ella a Lisboa,
para embarcarme en una armada que se había fabricado para resistir a la de Inglaterra, a
cargo de Tomás de Larraspur.
Estuvimos aguardando en Cascaez y en Belén más de dos meses, porque se tenía
nueva no iba a ninguna parte, sino a Lisboa, llamados de los judíos, y visto la
preparación, dieron en Cádiz. Y aunque se supo, vino orden no desamparásemos aquel
puesto, donde estuvimos hasta que se supo se había retirado a Inglaterra. El Marqués de
la Hinojosa, que estaba por general de mar y tierra, comenzó a reformar, donde entré
yo con los de mi tropa, que volvimos a Madrid a que se nos diese orden para ir a
nuestras galeras. Ya se había enfriado, porque dicen había guerra en Lombardía, y no
debió de ser sino que los genoveses son poderosos. Y aunque el duque de Tursis lo
ayudaba, por tener sus galeras guarnecidas con españoles, no pudo conseguir que por
ahora se pusiese en ejecución, con lo cual nos quedamos pobres pretendientes en la
corte, aunque yo no libré mal, porque Lope de Vega, sin haberle hablado en mi vida, me
llevó a su casa diciendo «Señor capitán, con hombres como vuesamerced se ha de partir
la capa», y me tuvo por su camarada más de ocho meses, dándome de comer y cenar, y
aun vestido me dio. ¡Dios se lo pague! Y no contento con eso, sino que me dedicó una
comedia, en la veinte parte, de El rey sin reino, a imitación del testimonio que me
levantaron con los moriscos.
GOBIERNO DE LA PANTANALEA

Parecióme vergüenza estar en la corte, mas no teniendo con qué sustentar, que allí
parecen mal los soldados aunque lo tengan, y, así, traté de venirme a Malta, por ver en
qué estado estaba lo de mi hábito y cuándo me había de tocar algo que comer por él.
Pedí en el Consejo se me diese algún sueldo para Sicilia, que está cerca de Malta, y
diéronme treinta escudos de entretenimiento, cinco más de lo que dan ahora a los
capitanes. Con que tomé la derrota a Barcelona y allí me embarqué para Génova y
Nápoles y Sicilia. Presenté mi cédula, asentóseme el sueldo y de allí a un mes, que
quería ir a Malta con licencia, me hizo merced el duque de Alburquerque, virrey de
aquel reino, del gobierno de la Pantanalea, una isla que está casi en Berbería. Tiene una
tierra y un castillo con ciento y veinte soldados españoles. Pasé por Malta a la ida y
hallé que no tenía caravana hecha ni residencia para poder encomendar.
Estuve en este gobierno dieciséis meses, teniendo algunos encuentrillos con algunos
morillos de los que allí vienen para hacer carne y agua. Y asimismo traté de que una
iglesia en que tenemos la cofradía de Nuestra Señora del Rosario... era como una venta
cubierta con cañas y paja. Envié por madera a Sicilia y por un pintor y colores.
Reedifiqué esta iglesia, cubriéndola con buenas tablas y vigas; hice seis arcos de piedra,
una tribuna y una sacristía; pinté toda la iglesia, el techo y capilla mayor con los cuatro
evangelistas a los lados, y el altar de Nuestra Señora hice pintar en tablas, que después
hice un arco con un Dios Padre encima, y el arco eran los quince misterios, retratado
cada misterio. Doté renta perpetua para lo siguiente: que todos los años, por
Carnestolendas, el jueves de compadres, se dijese una misa cantada con diácono y
subdiácono y túmulo, con sus paños negros y cera, y más doce misas rezadas, y la
víspera el oficio de difuntos, con su túmulo y cera, todo esto por las ánimas de Purgato-
rio. Item, dejé renta para que, en sabiendo que yo sea fallecido, tengan obligación de
decirme doscientas misas de alma. Más dejé con que cada dos años limpien la pintura y
blanqueen la iglesia. Más dejé cada mes una misa rezada por mi alma, en lo mejor y
más bien parado de toda la isla. Quedó adornada lo mejor que pude. Con que pedí
licencia al señor duque de Alburquerque para ir a Roma. Concediómela de mala gana
por cuatro meses. Vine a Palermo y de allí me embarqué para Nápoles, y de allí vine a
Roma.

HABLADO AL PAPA URBANO VIII

Traté de que se me diese un breve para suplirme las caravanas y residencia que
tenía obligación de hacer en la Religión para encomendar. Y habiéndoselo propuesto a
Su Santidad, no lo quiso hacer, con lo cual me resolví de hablarle. Y dándome
audiencia, le hice relación de mis servicios y dije que el tesoro de la Iglesia era para
hombres como yo, que estaban hartos de servir en defensa de la fe católica. Lo cual,
considerando Su Santidad estos trabajos con su cristiandad, no sólo me concedió el
breve facultativo, mas me le concedio gracioso y más con otro en que ordena a la
Religión que, en consideración de los servicios, me reciban en grado de fraile caballero,
gozando de mi ancianidad y poder caber en todas las encomiendas y dignidades que los
caballeros de justicia gozan; y más me concedió un altar privilegiado perpetuo para la
isla de la Pantanalea, en mi iglesia, con no haber más de tres misas, que son menester
ocho para el altar, por siete años; con que quedé contento. Pero faltaba lo mejor, que era
el despachar estas cosas con los ministros monseñores, que les pareció eran muchas
gracias y nunca vistas, como es verdad. Y ansina me las coartaban con mil cláusulas,
pero todo esto lo allanó el conde de Monterrey, mi señor, y mi señora la condesa, su
mujer, con recados y billetes que escribieron a los ministros, que era imposible, si no
fuera por Sus Excelencias, el poderlo conseguir. Eran Sus Excelencias al presente
embajadores de Roma extraordinario[s]. Y, habiendome despachado, quise ir a Malta y
Palermo, donde tenía mi sueldo, y pidiéndole licencia a Su Excelencia, me ordenó por
algunas causas que se ofrecieron no me partiese de Roma. Hícelo y estimólo, mandó
que se me diesen mis treinta escudos al mes a su tesorero, que lo ha hecho con mucha
puntualidad.
Pedí licencia a Su Excelencia después de pasados seis meses para ir a presentar los
breves. Diómela por dos meses y que volviese dentro de ellos. Partí de Roma y fui a
Nápoles y Sicilia y de allí a Malta, donde presenté los breves con las cartas de Su
Excelencia y al punto fueron obedecidos. Con lo cual me armaron caballero con todas
las solemnidades que se requiere y dieron una bula, que la estimo más que si hubiera
nacido del infante Carlos, en que dicen que por mis notables hechos y hazañas me
arman caballero, gozando todas las encomiendas, dignidades, que hay en la Religión y
gozan todos los caballeros de justicia. Hubo aquel día sopa doble en un gran banquete.
Partí de Malta para volver a Roma y vine en poco tiempo, porque en ir y estar, negociar
y volver a Roma, fue en treinta y cuatro días, habiendo de camino casi trescientas
leguas.
Llegué a Roma y besé la mano al conde mi señor y a mi señora la condesa.
Holgáronse de mi buen despacho y vuelta tan presto.
Ocho días después de llegado a Roma, me mandó el conde, mi señor, fuese con dos
carrozas de campaña suyas, de a seis caballos cada una, a traer los señores cardenales
Sandoval y Espinola y Albornoz, que venían de España y habían de desembarcar en
Puerto de Palo, veinte millas de Roma, y asimismo me ordenó los convidase de su
parte para que viniesen a alojar en su casa, donde les tenían hecho un gran alojamiento.
Llegué a Palo, donde estaban Sus Eminencias en el castillo. Hice mi embajada,
estimáronlo mucho, pero respondieron no pensaban entrar en Roma por ser tiempos de
mutaciones sino irse a algunas partes cerca de ella; y ya tomada esta resolución, los
supliqué lo mirasen bien, anteponiéndoles el servicio del rey, con lo cual se aventuraron
a perder su salud por hacerlo. Y a dos horas antes de noche mandaron poner las carrozas
en orden, que había ya diecisiete de campaña.
Metiéronse los señores tres cardenales en la carroza del conde mi señor, y los
camareros suyos en la otra y yo. Comenzaron a picar las unas y las otras porque no les
diese el sol, pero dime tan buena maña que entré en Roma al amanecer con solas las dos
carrozas del conde mi señor, sin que pudiese seguir ninguna de las diecisiete, y con ellas
los traje a casa muy temprano, día de San Pedro, cuando se presenta la hacanea al
Papa.
Fueron alojados en casa del conde mi señor, cada uno en su cuarto, con la
ostentación y regalo que se puede creer, con sus camareros y otros criados. Estuvieron
allí hasta que tomaron casas, que debió de ser un mes, y allí fueron visitados de todo el
colegio de los cardenales y regalados del conde mi señor. Y yo me volví a mi posada,
donde estoy y estaré hasta que Su Excelencia me mande otra cosa, que no deseo sino
servirle. Una cosa digo que es milagro: que entraron estos señores en Roma día de San
Pedro, cuando las mutaciones están en su punto y, de toda la familia que traían estos
señores, que eran más de trescientas personas, no se murió ninguno, y a Sus Eminencias
no les ha dolido la cabeza, con lo cual digo que es chanza lo de las mutaciones. Es
verdad que yo les dije a todos en Palo que se guardasen del sol y, entrando en Roma, de
hincar que con esto no habría mutación.
Esto ha sucedido hasta hoy, que son once de octubre de 1630 años, y si hubiera de
escribir menudencias sería cansar a quien lo leyere; además que cierto que se me
olvidan muchas cosas, porque en once días no se puede recuperar la memoria y hechos
y sucesos de treinta y tres años. Ello va seco y sin llover, como Dios lo crio y como a mí
se me alcanza, sin retóricas ni discreterías, no más que el hecho de la verdad. Alabado
sea Cristo.
Luego se siguió que el conde mi señor, resolvió hospedar al señor marqués de
Cadereyta, que iba por embajador ordinario a Alemania, y pasó por Roma por
embajador de la serenísima reina de Hungría. Y el conde mi señor me ordenó le fuese a
recibir al camino y ofrecerle su casa. Y, porque no traía las cartas de la reina con las
circunstancias que son menester para que el papa le recibiese como embajador, le hube
de llevar a Frascate, gran recreación, donde estuvo regalado hasta que la reina torné a
escribir. Con lo cual entró en Roma y vino a posar en casa del conde mi señor, donde
fue regalado y servido. Y después de besado el pie al papa y recibido sus visitas, y
hécholas Su Señoría también, se partió para Ancona, donde hallé a la reina y embarcó
para la corte cesárea a ejecutar y ejercer su embajada, que la que hizo en Roma fue muy
lucida y costosa, digna de tal señor.
Luego, dentro de pocos días, envió el conde mi señor a pedir una galera a la señora
duquesa de Tursis, para que fuese en ella el secretario Juan Pablo Bonete y yo a hacer
ciertas diligencias en Madrid. Vino la galera, donde nos embarcamos y llegamos a
Barcelona, y de allí se me ordenó corriese la posta, porque importaba. Hícelo, con lo
cual tuvo el conde mi señor su deseo, por haber llegado con brevedad.
Estuve en Madrid más de dos meses, donde me holgué en ver lindas comedias del
 Fénix de España, Lope de Vega, tan eminente en todo y el que ha enseñado con sus
libros a que no haya nadie que no sea poeta de comedias, que éste solo había de ser para
honra de España y asombro de las demás naciones.
De Madrid me mandaron me partiese para Nápoles, donde era virrey el conde mi
señor y, en llegando, me mandó tomase una compañía de infantería española. Díjele
cómo yo lo había sido ya cuatro veces; porfióme y toméla, con la cual entré de guarda a
su persona. Y de allí a dos meses me envió de presidio a la ciudad de Nola. Y
estando allí quieto, una mañana, martes 16 de diciembre, amaneció un gran penacho de
humo sobre la montaña de Soma, que otros llaman el Vesubio, y entrando el día
comenzó a oscurecerse el sol, y a tronar, y llover ceniza; advierto que Nola está debajo
casi del monte, cuatro millas y menos. La gente comenzó a temer, viendo el día noche y
llover ceniza, con lo cual comenzaron a huirse de la tierra. Y aquella noche fue tan
horrenda que me parece no puede haber otra semejante el Día del Juicio, porque, demás
de la ceniza, llovía tierra y piedras de fuego como las escorias que sacan los herreros de
las fraguas, y tan grandes como una mano, y mayores y menores; y tras todo esto había
un temblor de tierra continuo, que esta noche se cayeron treinta y siete casas, y se sentía
desgajar los cipreses y naranjos como si los partiesen con un hacha de hierro. Todos
gritaban « Misericordia!», que era terror oírlo. El miércoles no hubo dia casi, que era
menester tener luz encendida. Yo salté en campaña con una escuadra de soldados y traje
siete cargas de harina y mandé cocer pan, con lo cual se remediaron muchos de los que
estaban fuera de la tierra por no estar debajo de techado. Había en este lugar dos
conventos de monjas, las cuales no quisieron salir fuera aunque el vicario les dio
licencia para ello antes que se fuera; los cuales conventos se cayeron y no hizo mal a
nadie, porque estaban en el cuerpo de la iglesia rogando a Dios.
Los soldados de mi compañía casi se levantaron contra mí en esta forma: hicieron su
consejo entre ellos, diciendo que viniesen juntos a forzarme saliese de allí, porque el
fuego llegaba cerca. Topélos juntos en una calle, que venían a lo dicho, y yo, como los
vi, les dije «ADónde, caballeros?». Respondió uno «Señor...», y antes que dijese más,
dije yo «Señores, el que se quisiere ir, váyase, que yo no he de salir de aquí hasta que
me queme las pantorrillas, que, cuando llegue a ese término, la bandera poco pesa y me
la llevaré yo». Con esto no hubo nadie que respondiese. Pasamos este día, unas veces de
noche y otras con poco día. Las lástimas eran tantas que no se pueden decir ni exagerar,
porque ver la poca gente que había quedado, desmelenadas las mujeres, y las criaturas
sin saber dónde meterse y aguardando la noche natural, y que allí caían dos casas, allí
otra se quemaba, se deja considerar; y por cualquiera parte que quisiera salir era
imposible, porque se hundía en la ceniza y tierra que cayó el jueves por la mañana.
Trabajó el elemento del agua, aunque no cesaba el fuego y llover ceniza y tierra,
porque nació un río tan caudaloso de la montaña que sólo el ruido ponía terror. Un
pedazo de él se encaminaba a la vuelta de Nola, y yo tomé treinta soldados y gente de la
tierra, con zapas y palos, e hice una cortadura, de suerte que se encaminó por otra
parte y dio en dos lugarejos que se los llevó como hormigas, con todo el ganado y
bestias mayores que no se pudieron salvar, con que consideré si, cuando los oldados
venian a que me fuese, me voy, se anega la tierra.
El viernes quiso Dios que lloviese agua del cielo, revuelto con la tierra y ceniza, que
hizo una argamasa tan fuerte que era imposible cortarla, aunque fuese con picos ni
azadones; con que tuve algún consuelo, por si apretaba el fuego tener por donde salir.
El sábado se cayó casi todo el cuartel donde estaba la compañía, pero no hizo mal a
nadie, porque los soldados más querían estar al agua y ceniza en la plaza que en el
cuartel y en la iglesia mayor, que era damuzada aunque se meneaba como
enjuagadientes en la boca, de los terremotos que había.
Domingo me vino una orden del conde, pensando estaba todo perdido, porque no
podían haber pasado, en que me mandaba saliese y me fuese a Capua. Y aunque me
pesó cierto por dejar aquellas monjas que, viéndome ir, se habían de desanimar, me fue
fuerza el usar de la orden, porque si sucedía algo no me culpasen. Salí con lo que tenía a
cuestas, porque aunque quisiera traer un baúl, no había en que. Llegamos a Capua, que
era dolor el vernos tan desfigurados que no parecíamos sino que habíamos sido
trabajadores en el infierno, los más descalzos, medio quemados los vestidos y aun los
cuerpos. Alli nos reparamos ocho días e hicimos Pascua de Navidad, aunque el Vesubio
siempre vomitaba fuego.
Al cabo de ocho días me envió el conde una patente para que me alojase en los
casales de Capua. Hícelo y en ellos nos acomodamos algo de lo perdido. Y a mí me
trajeron de Nola dos baúles de vestidos, que todo lo demás de una casa se perdió, y fue
dicha el no perderse los baúles también. En estos casales hay una usanza lo más
perniciosa para los pobres, y es que los ricos que pueden alojar ordenan de primeras
órdenes a un hijo y a éste le hacen donación de toda la hacienda, con que no pueden
alojar, y el arzobispo los defiende porque le sustentan. Yo di cuenta al obispo de esta
bellaquería, y respondióme que aquello era justo. Yo me indigne y saqué los soldados
de casa de los pobres y llevélos en casa de estos ricos, y preguntaba yo «¿Cuál es el
aposento del ordenado?». Decían. «Este». Yo decía «Guárdese como el día del
domingo. Y estotros ¿quién duerme en ellos?». «Señor, el padre, la madre, las hermanas
y hermanos», y en éstos alojaba a tres y a cuatro soldados. Quejáronse al arzobispo, y él
envióme a decir que mirase qué estaba descomulgado. Yo reime de aquello. Y uno de
estos clérigos salvajes, que así los llaman en este reino porque no tienen más de las
primeras órdenes y son casados muchos, púsose en una yegua para ir a quejarse al
arzobispo, y un soldado diole una sofrenada diciendo que se aguardase hasta que me
lo dijeran a mí.
La yegua no sabía de freno más que el dueño latín, con lo cual se empinó y dio con él
en el suelo, que no se hizo provecho. Con todo su mal fue a quejarse, con que el obispo
me envió a decir que estaba descomulgado por el capítulo quisquis pariente del diablo.
Yo le respondí que mirase lo que hacía, que yo no entendía el capítulo quisquis, ni era
pariente del diablo, ni en mi generación le había, que mirase que si me resolvía a estar
descomulgado, que no estaba nadie seguro de mi sino en la quinta esfera, que para eso
me había dado Dios diez dedos en las dos manos y ciento y cincuenta españoles. Él
tomó mi carta y no me respondió más de que les envió a decir a los de los casales que
hiciesen diligencia con el virrey para que me sacasen de allí, que él haría lo mismo,
porque no hallaba otro remedio. Hiciéronla apretada, pero en el ínter me lo pagaron los
ricos, sin que padeciese ningún pobre, que no fue tan poco que no duró más de cuarenta
días.
Pasados éstos me envió el virrey a la ciudad del Aguila, de las mayores del reino,
en la cual habían perdido el respeto al obispo de aquella ciudad y aun querídole matar, y
mandóme que fuese a castigar a los culpados. Yo partí de estos casales a los nueve de
febrero y pasé el Llano de las Cinco Millas, que llaman, el cual estaba media pica de
nieve. Hubo lindas cosas en este llano con los soldados.
Esta ciudad es tan inobediente, por estar a los confines de la Romania que casi no
conocen al rey. Yo llevaba ciento cincuenta españoles de los de cuarto y octavo y entré
en la ciudad escaramuzando con mis pardillos. Iba con título de gobernador y capitán
a guerra. Comencé a prender, y ellos a huirse. Alojé los pardillos en sus casas de los
culpados, que no les estuvo mal, y eché bando que no anduviese nadie ni entrase en la
ciudad con bocas de fuego, que en ellos era costumbre como llevar sombrero.
Obedecieron luego, que fue milagro, según decían todos. Y un día llegaron a la puerta
de Nápoles seis criados del virrey de la provincia, que era el conde de Claramonte, con
sus escopetas y pistoletes de los chiquitos, y traían unos cabellos larguísimos a lo
nazareno, que es aquí hábito de bandidos o salteadores, que todo es uno. Dijéronlos que
no podían entrar sin orden del gobernador y capitán a guerra. Respondieron que no
conocían al capitán a guerra, y como de cuatro soldados que estaban a la puerta se
habían ido los dos a comer, entraron y fuéronse a dar pavonada a la plaza, no
haciendo caso de nadie, como lo pasado. Yo lo supe y mandé cerrar las puertas de la
ciudad y con ocho soldados salí a buscarlos. Hallélos como si no hubieran hecho nada y,
queriéndolos prender, se metieron a hacer armas que las tenían muy buenas, pero no
les valió porque de romanía cerré con ellos y los prendí, aunque me hirieron un
soldado.
Presos luego, al punto les hice la causa y di dos horas de término a cada uno y,
pasadas, los condené a cortar los cabellos nazarenos y que se los pusiesen al pescuezo, y
subidos cada uno en sus borricos, a usanza de mi tierra, les diesen, cada, doscientos
azotes; lo cual se hizo con gentil aire, aunque el verdugo se estrenó en semejante
justicia, que para él era nueva, y aun para la ciudad. Apeados de sus jumentos, fueron
curados con sal y vinagre a usanza de galera, y a otro día los encaminé a las galeras de
Nápoles con, cada, seis años, por entretenidos cerca la persona del cómitre a quien
tocaron.
El señor virrey o presidente de la provincia le pareció imposible la justicia y,
certificádose de ello, me escribió que con qué autoridad había hecho aquello.
Respondíle que con la de capitán a guerra. Tornóme a escribir que él solo en aquella
provincia lo era. Yo dije que eso se lo pleitease con el conde de Monterrey, que era el
que me había dado la patente.
Y con esto se determinó el venir a prenderme al Aguila, y para ello juntó trescientos
hombres de a caballo y algunos de a pie. Súpelo y escribíle que mirase Su Señoría que
era levantar la tierra y que ella lo estaba casi, pues yo había venido a castigar; que pues
era ministro del rey, no intentase tal cosa, sino que diese cuenta al conde como a virrey
del reino, y si yo había hecho mal me castigaría.
El no hizo caso de esto, sino trataba de seguir su intento. Yo, que tenía espías, vi que
iba de veras y traté de escoger, de ciento cincuenta españoles que tenia, los ciento con
su pólvora y balas y cuerda. Y en un gallardo caballo que yo tenía puse mis pistolas, y
encima de mi persona dos mil escudos en doblas, y salí a aguardarle a un puesto donde
le escribí una carta diciéndole que, pues miraba tan mal por el servicio del rey, que
prosiguiese su camino y que trajese buen caballo, porque, si le cogía, le juraba a Cristo
que lo habia de azotar como a los otros. Y lo hiciera mejor que lo digo, porque yo
estaba seguro el rendir su gente, que era toda canalla y, hecho en él lo dicho, irme a
Roma y a Milán y a Flandes, con que se acababa todo, y de donde estaba yo, en seis
horas, me metía en el estado de la Iglesia. El se resolvió tomar mi carta y enviársela
al virrey conde de Monterrey, y se volvió a su casa o tierra, y yo a la mia.
A otro día tuve noticia que andaba un caballero haciendo mil bellaquerías en
campaña y en conventos de monjas, hincando la que más bien le parecía. Yo, como me
había resuelto ya de ir a campaña contra el presider ¡pardiez! que me encaminé la
vuelta de un lugarejo donde él dormía y le parecía que estaba como el rey en Madrid, y
le di una alborada hallándole en la cama, aunque se arrojó por una ventana a un huerto;
pero hubo otros tan buenos saltadores que le pescaron. Atáronle y traje a la ciudad del
Aguila, que se quedaron espantados de que hubiese quien se atreviera a prenderle.
Metilo en el castillo e hicele la causa, y hecha, le di dos días de término en los cuales se
trató de hacer un tablado en medio de la plaza y hacer los cuchillos para el sacrificio. La
gente se burlaba de ver el tablado y de oír que era para cortarle la cabeza, pero más se
admiraron cuando le vieron al quinto día, a las tres de la tarde, sin cabeza, que se la
cortó un mal verdugo, al cual le di un vestido mío y diez escudos. El pobre no era
práctico, pero fue como los médicos que se enseñan en los hospitales a costa de
inocentes, aunque este caballero no era sino grandísimo bellaco. Llamábase Jacomo
Ribera, que cualquier brucés le conocerá, aunque sea por el nombre, natural de la
ciudad del Aguila.
Estuve en esta ciudad por la Pascua de Resurrección, y los jurados y regidores
estaban conmigo mal, porque no les dejaba vivir como querían. Y parecióles que el día
de Pascua tenían alguna excusa el no acompañarme a la iglesia y con esto me hacían
algún pesar. Yo les había dicho el Jueves Santo se comulgasen como lo hacía yo, y
ellos, como tenían la malicia, no quisieron comulgar. Llegó el día de Pascua, donde el
obispo decía la misa de pontifical. Yo aguardé hasta que salió la misa y fui. Púseme
en mi silla solo con mi asesor, aunque éste nunca quiso firmar ninguna sentencia de las
contadas, pero no me espantó, que era de la tierra y se había de quedar en ella. Advierto
que en esta ciudad el magistrado o regidores, que son cinco, cada uno tiene dos criados,
que se los paga la ciudad, vestidos de colorado, y ninguno de estos regidores o jurados
no saldrá de casa sin estos dos criados, ni irá a otra parte, aunque importe la vida.
Yo, como me vi solo a la misa pontifical y conocí la malicia de estos bergantes,
llamé al sargento desde mi silla y díjele «Vaya y préndame todos los criados del
magistrado y en casa de cada uno de los magistrados meta seis soldados con orden que
coman cuanto hallaren en casa y en la cocina, teniendo mucho respeto a las mujeres, y
que no se salgan hasta que, yo lo mande». Ejecutóse al punto, y más, que habia soldados
que, con ser día de Pascua, no se había hecho lumbre en su casa. Los jurados tuvieron
nueva del caso y, como no tenían los de las capas coloradas, no podían venir a volver
por sí. Enviaban gentileshombres y recados. Yo decía vinieran ellos. Y como no podían
venir, estuviéronse cada uno donde les cogió el sargento los criados. Pidióme el obispo
sacase los soldados de las casas o que soltase los criados para que fuesen los jurados a
sus casas. Concedí que saliesen los soldados de las casas con que les diesen a cada uno
tres tostones, que son nueve reales. Diéronselos al punto, y dieran trescientos ducados
por no los ver en casa: tanto nos quieren. Tuvieron los soldados y sus camaradas, con
los nueve reales cada uno y comido, mejores Pascuas que los jurados, porque las
hicieron en el lugar donde los prendieron los criados, que por no perder la usanza o
privilegio, no fueron a sus casas. Hízome instancia el obispo soltase los de las capas
coloradas. Yo dije los había prendido a todos porque no se excusasen unos con otros,
cuál era el que me había de haber llevado la almohada y puesto en la iglesia, pero que
pagase cada uno un ducado para las arrepentidas y los soltasen; y al punto lo pagaron
y salieron los jurados de su encantamiento, que ellos por tal tuvieron.
Otras mil cosillas me sucedió con éstos, y era que el pescado y la carne lo ponían a
precios subidos, y el pan, porque les daban a cada uno un tanto en especie de pescado y
carne y tocino, y el del pan en dinero. Yo súpelo y dije que, cuando fuesen a poner las
posturas, me llamasen. Hiciéronlo y así como la ponían, decía yo «¿Vuesa Señoría no
ve que es conciencia ponerlo tan bajo, que merece más, y subiéndolo habrá
abundancia?». Ellos veían el cielo abierto y subían más. Después de hecha la postura
decía yo a cada uno de ellos «Señores, yo tengo tanta gente en mi casa y, aunque soy
franco, por caballero de Malta y capitan de infantería, y capitán a guerra, y
gobernador, quieró comenzar y pagar a la postura, y así, cada uno de Vuesas Señorías,
ha de llevar conforme tiene la familia y lo ha de pagar aqui, como yo, y ¡voto a Dios!,
que si vosotros les dais una onza de nada, que os he de azotar». Y como ellos veían que
no era yo de burlas, hacíanlo. Decían los jurados «Señor, que en nuestra casa no se
come pescado». «Pues yo quiero que lo coman y gocen de la postura, como yo y los
pobres». Esto bastó para que la postura bajase la mitad y más en todas las cosas.
Volviendo a nuestro préside o virrey de la provincia, había enviado la carta que yo le
escribí última al conde de Monterrey y se resolvió el sacarme del Aguila a instancia del
préside y de los jurados, pero sacónos a él y a mí en un día. A mí me dio una compañía
de caballos corazas antes de salir del Águila, y a él no le dio nada. Este fin tuvo el
gobierno del Aguila que tuve tres meses y siete días.
Partí del Aguila para Nápoles a tomar posesión de la compañía de caballos. Halléla
que estaba alojada en Capua y fue fuerza traerla a Nápoles, adonde me la entregó don
Gaspar de Acebedo, general de mil caballos. Este día que me la entregó don Gaspar de
Acebedo, delante del escribano de ración don Pedro Cumcubilete, se tasaron los
caballos de la compañía, la cual habia tenido don Héctor Piñatelo, que le promovieron a
teniente de maese de campo general. Dijo un soldado que le había trocado el caballo, y
otros dijeron lo mismo: Yo dije «Aquel que trae Vuesa Señoría es de la compañía y los
soldados dicen tiene Vuesa Señoría los mejores caballos, y dado, rocines, y son del
rey». Respondió «No es verdad, que yo no he tomado caballo ninguno». Mas aunque
entre italianos no es palabra ofensiva «no es verdad», no quise estar en opiniones
porque había muchos españoles e italianos delante, con lo cual alcé la mano y le encajé
la barba, asiéndole de ella. Él al punto arrojó el bastón y sacó su espada como valiente
caballero. Pero yo no fui lerdo en sacar mi herruza, donde hubo una pendencia sin
sangre, porque era tanta la gente que era imposible el herirnos. Un pobre tudesco de la
guarda del virrey, que estaba allí, lo vino a pagar, que salió con una cuchillada en la
cara, como si fuera él el encajador.
Prendiónos don Gaspar de Acebedo, como general de la caballería y capitán de la
guardia del conde le Monterrey. Estuvimos presos en casa cada uno, cien guardas, tres
días hasta que el conde mi señor mandó, con la relación de los maestres de campo y
príncipe de Ascoli, que nos hiciesen amigos en su antecámara. Por el don Héctor salió el
príncipe de La Rochela, y por mí salió el señor don Gaspar de Acebedo, con que de allí
adelante cada uno andaba, o yo por mejor decir, ojo avizor, como dicen los lampones.
Ya yo era capitán de caballos, con que comenzaron nuevos cuidados, y más con que
el conde mi señor quiso hacer una muestra general de toda la caballería del reino y la
nueva levantada, que era más de dos mil y quinientos caballos, y la infantería española e
italiana, que era mucha y muy lucida, aunque en esta muestra no se halló infantería del
reino, de milicia, sino la levantada, que eran los españoles dos mil y setecientos y los
italianos ocho mil, escogida gente.
¡Qué sería menester de galas para este día que yo, con ser pobre, saqué mi librea de
dos trompetas y cuatro lacayos, todos de grana, cuajados de pasamanos de plata,
tahalíes y espadas doradas y plumas, y encima de los vestidos gabanes de lo mismo; mis
caballos, que eran cinco con sus sillas, dos con pasamanos de plata y todos con sus
pistolas guarnecidas en los arzones! Saqué unas armas azules, con llamas de plata,
calcillas de gamuza cuajadas de pasamano de oro, y mangas y coleto de lo mismo, un
monte de plumas azules y verdes y blancas encima de la celada, y una banda roja
recamada de oro, cuajada, que, a fe, podía servir de manta en una cama. Yo entré de esta
manera en la plaza con mi alférez y estandarte y ochenta caballos detrás bien armados;
los soldados con sus bandas rojas, y mi hermano, que era mi teniente, detrás de la
compañía, harto galán. Dejo considerar cómo entrarían los demás capitanes, que eran en
cantidad. Pasamos todos por delante palacio, donde estaban en un balcón el conde mi
señor y los eminentes cardenales Sabeli y Sandoval, y en otro balcón mi señora la
condesa de Monterrey y mi señora la marquesa de Monterroso, con sus damas. Todas
las compañías, como iban entrando en la plaza de armas, hacían un caracol y abatían los
estandartes, y la infantería las banderas, y pasaron al largo del castillo, donde se hizo el
escuadrón y nosotros peleamos con él, que cierto era de ver pelear la caballería con la
infantería.
A este tiempo, ya Sus Excelencias habían pasado con los señores cardenales a
Castelnovo y al pasar se disparó toda la artillería, que era mucho de ver, y hacíase
esto tan al vivo que no faltaba más que meter balas, que todas las demás acciones se
hicieron. Pero tal capitán general teníamos para que no lo hiciéramos que, aunque se
hubiera criado toda su vida en la guerra, no podía saber mandar más como mandaba y a
sus tiempos. Y no es adulación, que certifico que, con haber conocido infinitos
príncipes, no he visto quien sepa tener tanta grandeza como este señor; y si no, digalo la
embajada de Roma extraordinaria del año de 1628, con la grandeza que allí estuvo, los
muchos huéspedes que yo conocí en su casa alojados, los señores cardenales Sandoval,
Espínola y Albornoz, un hermano del conde de Elda, y Otro del de Tabara, y la del
mismo conde y mi señora la condesa. Y todos comían en sus cuartos aparte y a un
tiempo y no se embarazaban los oficios, ni reposteros, ni botilleres, ni cocineros, ni la
plata, porque cada uno tenía lo que había menester, además que cada uno tenía un
camarero y un mozo de cámara, y para todos había carrozas a un tiempo, sin pedir a
nadie nada prestado. Yo vi colgadas treinta y dos piezas con sus doseles de verano y
otras tantas de invierno.
Fue este señor el que hizo tan señaladas fiestas al nacimiento del príncipe nuestro
señor, que Dios guarde, por octubre 1629, que hoy los romanos tienen qué decir, y
aún los extranjeros que allí se hallaron: tantas comedias, tantas luchas, tantos artificios
de fuego, tantas fuentes de vino, tantas limosnas a los hospitales, derramar tres días
arreo por las tardes cantidad de dinero, oro y plata, a puñados. Y para más prueba,
baste decir que en este tiempo éramos tan mal vistos en Roma que no se puede
encarecer, y estas grandezas les obligaba a que fueran por dentro de Roma apellidando
«¡Viva España!», que no hay más que decir.
Pues, ¿quién ha tenido en aquella ciudad capitanes entretenidos, como los tuvo el
conde, a treinta escudos cada mes a cada uno, y éramos cuatro y yo era el uno,
pagándonos de su bolsa con puntualidad? Y todo esto lo gobernaba Gaspar de Rosales,
tesorero de Su Excelencia, que jamás dejó que nadie se quejase de Su Excelencia en
aquella corte, al cual hizo Su Excelencia secretario de estado y guerra de Nápoles
cuando pasó a ser virrey, oficio en el buen secretario bien merecido, por su vigilancia y
limpieza de manos: y es cierto que muchas veces un señor acierta por tener un buen
criado, y al revés por tenerle malo.
Pues en Nápoles, ¿qué virrey ha habido que busque los hombres que tienen méritos,
los cuales estaban arrinconados en algunos castillos, de desesperados? Y Su Excelencia
los ha sacado y premiado, que yo conozco muchos, con que toda la nación se ha
animado, viéndose premiar. ¿Quién ha enviado en quince meses a Milán, como el
conde, dos tercios de italianos de a tres mil hombres y setecientos mil ducados, y a
España seis mil infantes y mil caballos en veinticuatro galeones, la infantería a cargo del
marques de Campo Lataro y la caballería al del príncipe de La Rochela, y juntamente
veinticuatro sillas, bridas bordadas con sus caballos escogidos, y otros tantos pares de
pistolas que no tenían precio, y para encima de cada caballo una cubierta de brocado
que llegaba a las corvas de los caballos? Esto iba de presente para Su Majestad y señor
infante Carlos, que esté en gloria, y señor Infante Cardenal. Pues si tratase de mi
señora la condesa, la afabilidad que ha tenido con todas aquellas señoras tituladas del
reino, repartiendo los días de la semana en los hospitales y a los de las mujeres ir a
servirlas con sus manos, llevando de palacio toda la comida que se había de gastar aquel
día, y de esto soy buen testigo; pues un convento de mujeres españolas arrepentidas que
ha fundado y otros a que cada día ayuda con sus limosnas, favoreciendo y honrando a
todos los que quieren valerse de su intercesión. En suma, señor lector, no le parezca
pasión lo que he dicho, porque he quedado muy corto, y juro a Dios y a esta U que
cuando escribo esto, que son 4 de febrero 1633, me hallo en Palermo y en desgracia del
conde mi señor, que adelante lo verán el cómo y por qué. Pero, con todo, estimo ser su
criado, aunque en desgracia, más que criado de otro en gracia, porque jamás seré ingrato
a las mercedes recibidas en su casa y pan comido.
Volviendo a mi discurso, digo, señor, que se acabó nuestras escaramuzas, qúe fue a
20 de junio 1632. Fuimonos a casa cansados y sudados y, a otro día, mandó el conde se
repartiese toda la caballería por las marinas para defenderlas, por haber venido nueva de
la armada turquesca. A mí me tocó ir con quinientos caballos, cabo tropa de ellos, al
principado de Citra, donde estuve hasta fin de agosto en Campaña de Bol y en
Achierno. En este lugar era por caniculares, y hacía tanto frío que era menester echar
dos mantas en la cama, y así, de día, ejercitábamos los caballos, escaramuzando unos
con otros, y a veces corríamos una sortija.
Había un caballo grande en la compañía, de cuatro años, y era tan pernicioso que
había casi estropeado cuatro soldados, y a uno del todo, y para herrarle era menester
atarle de pies y manos, y era tan feroz que echado en el suelo quebraba todas las
cuerdas, aunque fueran gordas. Yo mandé lo llevasen al convento del señor San
Francisco, y que lo daba de limosna. Lleváronlo en pelo y el guardián dijo que, ya que
le hacía la limosna, le hiciese un contrato para poderlo vender. Este caballo estuvo
aquella noche tan feroz, que no se atrevían a llevarlo a beber, y a otro día hice el
contrato y me dijo el guardián «Señor, yo temo que este caballo ha de matar algún
fraile». Fuese con su contrato al convento y a otro día me dijo «Señor capitán, el caballo
se está quedo y parece se ha quietado algo». En suma, en seis días se puso tan
doméstico que no había borrico como él, y le echaron con una yegua que tenía el
convento y andaba con ella como si no fuera caballo, que todo el lugar se maravilló.
Yo tenía un caballo, entre otros, que llamaba Colona y, como íbamos a correr y
escaramuzar cada día a la alameda de San Francisco, este día me puse sobre este
caballo, que era manso y yo había escaramuzado y corrido lanzas muchas veces en él; y
poniéndole en la carrera, jamás quiso partir. Yo me enojé y le di de las espuelas, y salió
y a cuatro pasos se paró. Tornele al puesto e hice lo mismo: el caballo no quiso correr
sino muy poco y a través. Rogáronme me apease y que no corriera; un soldado me dijo
«Démelo vuesamerced, que yo le haré correr y no le quedará ese vicio». Yo me apeé y
el soldado subió en él, y no hubo bien subido cuando el caballo disparó a correr y, hasta
que se estrelló en una pared, él y el soldado, no paro, y cayeron entrambos muertos, de
que me quedé espantado. O fue la limosna que di del caballo, o de un altar que hice se
fabricase para decir misas por las ánimas del Purgatorio y un breve que les hice venir de
Roma para un altar privilegiado: la causa Dios la sabe, a quien doy gracias por tal
beneficio, con los muchos que me hace cada día.
Entré en Nápoles con mi compañía, y alojáronme en el Puente de la Magdalena, de
donde salía cada noche con veinte caballos a batir la marina de la Torre del Griego, y
las demás compañías hacían lo mismo por la otra parte de Puzol.
Yo tenía muy buenos caballos, y las compañías de mi tropa no eran buenas; y así, por
rehacerlas, mandó el conde se reformase mi compañía, lo cual se hizo, y Su Excelencia
me hizo merced del gobierno de Pescara, que es de lo mejor de aquel reino. Beséle la
mano al conde por la merced y estúveme así más de un mes, sin pedir los despachos. Y
una mañana me envió a decir el conde mi señor, con el secretario Rosales, que gustaría
que aprestase dos galeoncetes y un patache que estaba en el puerto, y que fuese a
Levante con ellos a piratear un poco.
A esta sazón yo me hallaba con un hermano que había servido a Su Majestad veinte
años en Italia y Armada Real, de soldado, sargento y alférez, y gobernador de una
compañía tres años, con patente de general y con ocho escudos de ventaja particulares
del rey; y al presente se hallaba reformado de teniente de caballos corazas. Díjele al
secretario «Señor, yo haré lo que me manda el conde, pero mire vuesamerced que tengo
a mi hermano y que, por lo menos, quede en Pescara por mi teniente». Díjome que no
podía ser, que había de ser capitán el que había de ocupar aquello. Pedí le hiciesen
capitán del patache y aun se lo supliqué yo a boca al conde: no lo quiso hacer. Dije
que le diesen una compañía de los ramos y gente suelta que se había de embarcar
conmigo: dijéronme que sí. Yo en este ínter trabajaba en aprestar los bajeles, y decía al
secretario «Vuesa merced no se burle conmigo. Dígale al conde acabe de ajustar esto,
porque juro a Dios que si no lo hace que no me [he] de embarcar ni hacer el viaje». En
esto anduvimos, hasta que una noche, en su escritorio, me desengañó diciendo que no le
habían de dar nada, y que nos habíamos de embarcar entrambos.
Con esto me vine a mi casa y, considerando que yo no tenía plaza en aquel reino, ni
sueldo de Su Majestad, ni mi hermano tampoco, y así, viendo que mi hermano decía
«Señor, yo he servido como todo el mundo sabe, y vuesamerced ha hecho por muchos,
y yo no tengo acrecentamiento: el mundo pensara tengo algún aj. Y como veía que
tenía razón, me obligó a coger mi poca ropa y meterla en el convento de la Santísima
Trinidad, y de allí escribí un papel al secretario del tenor siguiente: «No se espante
vuesamerced que yo haya sido prolijo en que se acomodase a mi hermano, pues
habiendo yo de ir este viaje, él había de quedar, si yo faltara, con las obligaciones de
este sobrinillo y sobrina huérfanos, que no tienen otro padre sino yo. Y pues
vuesamerced me desahució anoche que no se le había de dar nada, yo me [he] resuelto a
no querer servir tampoco, ni hacer este viaje, y así se lo podrá vuesamerced decir al
conde mi señor, que yo me [he] retirado aquí, para ver dónde me resuelvo a ir a buscar
mi vida, y porque Su Excelencia no me meta en algún castillo con alguna cólera. Si
gustare el conde de que yo le sirva y haga este viaje, déle una compañía a mi hermano,
pues la merece y me la [ha] prometido, que yo saldré al punto y haré lo que verá en este
viaje.» El secretario se espantó de ver semejante resolución y me escribió un papel,
como amigo, a que saliese. No lo quise hacer sino con lo referido.
Pedíle licencia al conde para mí y pára mi hermano y sobrino. Envióme a decir que
yo no tenía necesidad de licencia, pues no era su súbdito, por caballero de Malta, por no
tener sueldo ni ocupación en aquel reino, que con una fe de la sanidad me bastaba. Yo
le envié a decir que yo no era de los hombres que se iban sin licencia donde habían
tenido ocupación, que si Su Excelencia no me la daba, me estaría allí en el convento
hasta que me muriera o promovieran a Su Excelencia a mayores cargos. Y así Su
Excclcncia me hizo merced de concederme licencia muy honrada para Malta, y a mi
hermano para España, y a mi sobrino para Sicilia; y todas tres me las envió al convento
firmadas de su puño.
Luego, estando los navíos de partencia, me enviaron un papel de palacio firmado del
secretario, pero de otro mayor era, en que mandaban hiciese una relación e instrucción
para el modo como se habían de gobernar los bajeles. Hícela delante el que me trajo el
papel, que era bien larga, y a la postre decía:
«Señor, yo no soy ángel y podía errar, y así se podrá comunicar ese papel con los
pilotos, y si mi parecer fuere bueno se usará de él y si no, no; que ése era el viaje que yo
pensaba hacer, a no ser desdicha tener hermanos.»
Luego traté de poner mi viaje en orden, aunque todo el mundo me decía que me
guardase, y aun ministros y amigos de palacio. Yo procuré tomar su consejo, aunque me
resolví una noche de ir a ver al secretario Rosales a palacio, y lo hice y estuve con él
hablando largo; y diciéndome que no lo había acertado, quedamos en que otra noche
nos habíamos de ver, y no me pareció hacerlo, sino en una faluca, que me costó muy
buen dinero, embarqué a mi hermano y sobrino, a deshora, con la poca ropilla que tenía,
y salimos de Nápoles a los 20 de enero a medianoche.
Olvidábaseme decir que con mi retirada en aquel convento todo el mundo pensó me
había hecho fraile —como si yo no lo fuera— y aun se puso en la gaceta, y de Malta me
escribieron avisaban cómo era capuchino, y no había que espantar lo dijesen en tierras
distantes, pues en dos meses que estuve en aquel convento, hubo hombre en el propio
Nápoles que juró me había visto decir misa, y él no debía de saber que yo no sé latín, ni
aún lo entiendo.
Yo me pasé allí estos dos meses, haciendo penitencia, con un capón a la mañana y
otro a la noche y otros adherentes, y con muy buenos vinos añejos, y oía cuatro misas y
vísperas cada día.
La noche que salí de Nápoles no fue muy buena por el cuidado que traía, pero
amanecimos en Bietre sesenta millas de Nápoles. Pasamos el Golfo de Salerno y
fuimos a Palanudo, donde no nos dejaron tomar tierra por amor de la sanidad. De
allí fuimos a Paula y estuve allí dos días; visité donde nació el bienaventurado San
Francisco de Paula. De allí pasé a Castillón, donde topé una faluca que venía la vuelta
de Nápoles. Traía una brava dama española, conocida, con la cual cené aquella noche y
rogóme que durmiese en su aposento porque tenía miedo. No quise ser desagradecido y
así me acosté en el aposento en otra cama. Yo me levanté a orinar y, como estaba
oscuro, por irme a mi cama topé con la de la dama y metíme dentro y ella parecía que
dormía, pero estaba despierta. Yo comencé a hincar y ella siempre dormía, y acabado
despertó y dijo «¿Qué ha hecho vuesamerced?». Yo dije «Tóquese vuesamerced y lo
verá» y comenzó a decir «¡Jesús!» y «¡Qué mal hombre!». Yo la dije «Yo lo creo, que
más mozo le querría vuesamerced con que velar de aquí a la mañana», pero, aunque
viejo, se dio una cuchillada sobre otra, que lo merecía a fe.
Amaneció y varamos nuestras falucas y cada una tomó la derrota que le convenía.
Y aquella noche llegué a Tropía y no hice noche por llegar a Mesina vispera de
Navidad, la cual hicimos en una posada que había harta carne, pero como era víspera de
Navidad, todo el mundo se estuvo quedo, y más yo que venía harto de espiga. Oímos
misa día de Pascua, o misas, y salimos de Mesina, pero no pudimos pasar de la torre del
faro, donde dormimos. A otro día varamos y fuimos proejando hasta Melazo y
estuvimos aquella noche y un día por ser malo el tiempo. Presentóme el capitán de
armas unas gallinas y vino y un cabrito, con que se acrecentó la despensa, y hubo sopa
doble en la posada, que nunca en estas casas faltan diablos o diablas.
Partimos de Melazo, y sin tomar tierra, nos los llevamos hasta Términes donde hay
buena posada. Dormimos aquí y partímonos para Palermo, que llegamos a mediodía,
donde hallé infinitos amigos y traté de poner casa, y antes de hacerlo hablé al señor
duque de Alcalá, que gobierna este reino. Díjele mi venida, aunque Su Excelencia lo
sabía todo, y suplíquele mandase se me aclarasen los treinta escudos de entretenimiento
que yo tenia en este reino de Su Majestad: mandó luego se me aclarasen. Mi hermano
dio un memorial suplicando a Su Excelencia, en consideración de sus servicios, le
hiciese merced de que se le diese una patente de capitán para ir a levantar una
compañía, por haber pocas en ese reino, y para ello yo le daba quinientos ducados, que
es lo que da Su Majestad para estas levas, y yo quería ahorrar al rey esto. Salió que
informasen los oficios, y el informe fue meterle en una tartana que estaba en este puerto,
catalana, cargada de bizcocho para las galeras de este reino e iba a Génova. Dile
doscientos escudos en oro y vestidos, y paguéle el flete y matalotaje y echéle mi
bendición, diciendo «Hijo, vete a Flandes y allí serás capitán. Tú llevas servicios, galas,
dineros, licencia... ¡Dios te guíe!». Con lo cual se fue con Dios y yo me [he] quedado
hasta hoy 4 de febrero, que escribo esto, 1633. Si Dios me diere vida y se ofreciere más,
lo añadiré aquí. Fin.

* * *

Ídose mi hermano este año de 33 en dicha tartana, me quedé en Palermo y me envió
a llamar el señor duque de Alcalá, que era virrey de Sicilia. Subí a verle y pneguntóme
que qué había tenido con el conde [de] Monterrey. Díjele que nada y yo traía licencia
para Malta; apretóme con razones. Yo nunca le dije nada de lo que había sucedido en
Nápoles. Despedíme de Su Excelencia y bajéme al cuerpo de guardia y comenzaronme
los capitanes a examinar de nuevo qué era lo que había tenido con el conde en Nápoles.
Yo les dije que dejasen al conde, que era señor de todos los grandes, siendo chico. No
faltó quien se lo fue a decir al duque de Alcalá que, enojado, envió a su secretario me
enviase a llamar y, venido, me dijo sin réplica ninguna «Vuesamenced pague a don
Jerónimo de Castro doscientos escudos que le debe». Y estaba allí el dicho don
Jerónimo de Castro, y yo le respondí al secretario «Señor, es vendad que me dio
doscientos escudos para que le sacase en Roma un breve facultativo para el Maestre de
Malta, el cual breve no quiso pasar el dicho Maestre» y que yo había cumplido con lo
que me tocaba. Respondióme el dicho secretario «Vuesamerced no tiene que alegar,
sino pagarlos luego o le llevarán preso». Respondí a esa resolución «Envíe vuesamerced
conmigo quien los traiga». Envióme con guardia y trájelos en un saquillo y díjele
«Tome vuesamerced, déselos al duque para que haga de ellos lo que quiera, porque no
debo nada a don Jerónimo de Castro». Con esto me fui a mi posada, considerando lo
que hace el mundo.
De allá dos días envió un ayudante de sargento mayor, el cual me dijo que mandaba
Su Excelencia aclararse el entretenimiento que tenía allí. Yo respondí que yo allí no
tenía sueldo, que tenía licencia para irme a Malta del conde [de] Monterrey con lo cual
fue fuerza valerme del recibidor de la Orden para que hablase al virrey. Hízolo, con
que me dejó, y dentro de veinte días me vinieron las bulas de Malta, de la encomienda
que me había tocado de San Juan de Puente de Orbi. Estúveme allí dos meses. En ese
tiempo vinieron dos galeras de Génova que trajeron un obispo. Yo le dije al capitán de
una de ellas que si me quería llevar a Nápoles con condición de no decir que me llevaba
al conde. Ofreciólo, y lo primero que hizo fue decírselo. Ya el conde lo sabía todo, lo
que había pasado en Sicilia, de los coronistas. Llamó a su secretario, Gaspar de
Rosales, y díjole que me enviase a llamar y procurase rendirme y que me quedase en
Nápoles. El secretario me envió un papel a la galera, corto y breve, en que decía: «El
conde ha sabido primero que yo que vuesamenced viene ahí. Véngase a comer conmigo,
que tenemos que darnos dos toques.»
Yo, visto que era ya forzoso, salí de la galera y vine a palacio, donde me vi con el
secretario; y mostré mis bulas, que se quedó espantado y se subió arriba a mostrárselas
al conde, el cual dijo «Desenojadero tiene Contreras. Catequizadle, por vida vuestra,
de manera que se quede aquí». Bajó y comimos, y hubo grandes sermones, y no hubo
remedio de quedarme. Las dos galeras pasaban a Gaeta, donde estaban otras
aguardándolas para ir a Génova. Diome el secretario un pliego del conde para que diese
en mano propia a la marquesa de Charela; hícelo. Y habiendo tirado el tino de leva,
me envió el gobernador de Gaeta el bergantín armado para que fuese a Nápoles; que
toda mi ropa estaba debajo de todo, que no se podía sacan, e iba zarpando ya, que es lo
que me valió. Hicimos nuestro viaje a Génova con bien, donde llegados, a dos días,
llegó el Infante Cardenal que esté en gloria. Hizo su entrada galantemente, y de allí se
fue a Milán y yo a la vuelta de España, en las galeras que vino el Infante Cardenal.
Llegué a Barcelona en breve tiempo, y de allí a Madrid, donde me alojé en casa del
secretario Juan Ruiz de Contreras, padre de don Fernando, el que hoy está en la
altura. Regalóme mucho en su casa y comencé a tratar de pretensiones. Lo primero
fue ir a tomar posesión de la encomienda. Volvíme a Madrid y topé con mi hermano,
que estaba pretendiendo, pidiendo le diesen su sueldo, donde había sido reformado pon
el oficio de Flandes. Y habiéndose visto en el Consejo, se le dieron veinte escudos de
entretenimiento y carta para que se le diese compañía por el oficio del secretario Rojas,
el cual despachó un billete al secretario Pedro de Arce dándole cuenta de aquella
merced, el cual recurrió y lo detuvo muchos días, haciendo conscientes a los Consejeros
de Estado que yo había sido capitán de caballos de tramoya, y que él no había de
hacer aquel despacho.
Esto lo supe al cabo de algunos días. Como no se despachaba el despacho de mi
hermano, fuime al marqués de Santa Cruz, del Consejo de Estado, y apretéle sobre la
materia, con que me dijo «¿Cómo quiere que le den a su hermano el despacho, si Pedro
de Arce dice que vuesamerced fue capitán de caballos de tramoya?». Con lo cual volví
las espaldas, sin decirle nada al marqués, y fuime a mi casa, y, sin comer bocado, saqué
la patente de capitán de caballos corazas y otra de cabo de tropa de quinientos y mi
reformación y licencia, y apreté los pies y volví a casa del marqués de Santa Cruz.
Hiciéronme entrar y díjele «Suplico Vuesa Excelencia me oiga: más ha de veinte años
que en el postigo de San Martín me llamó una dama, anochecido. Subí arriba y
estuvimos parlando un rato, a lo que llamaron a la puerta. La señora dama dijo que me
escondiese, que luego se iría Pedro de Arce, que era el que venía. Dije que no me había
de esconder pon ningún caso, que le abriesen. Afligida, la señora mandó que le abriesen.
Subió el señor Pedro de Arce con su estoque y su broquel, verde como una lechuga;
entonces era oficial de la Guerra. Así como me vio, me preguntó “¿Qué hace aquí?”. Yo
le respondí “Esta señora me estaba preguntando por una amiga suya”, y sin acabar la
razón enderezó su broquel. Yo estaba sobre la mía y fui presto, que le di en él una
estocada que broquel, él y estoque rodaron por la escalera, dando voces que era muerto,
sin estar herido. Bajé con la bulla yo también y fuime con Dios. Y a él le llevaron a su
casa medio muerto de la caída, con que siempre ha tenido conmigo ojeriza todo este
tiempo. Ahora vea Vuesa Excelencia esta patente, licencia y reformación con que
echará de ver que lo que he contado es verdad, y que fui capitán de corazas siete meses
y tres días».

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