This lapse of D. John did not last long; for in the middle of December
Fr. Miguel Servia writes thus in his diary:
"At this time Christmas approached, and His Highness retired the
Monday before to a monastery outside Naples, of Norbertinian
monks, called Pie de Grutta, and the day before the Vigil he
sent a gentleman to the Duque (de Sesa) to order him to give
notice that he was going to confession. The next day, which was
the Vigil, we went, Fr. Fee and I. He received us very
graciously, and ordered a room to be given us, as he would not
confess until night; and when it was already the hour of matins
he called us, and I confessed His Highness and the steward, and
Father Fray Fee the valet and many other gentlemen; and His
Highness communicated at the first sung Mass, and afterwards all
the gentlemen who had confessed. We, on Christmas Day, after
having dined, returned to our convent."
D. John had thought, no doubt, to ensure better the fruits of his
penitence, to go straight from the monastery of Pie de Grutta to the
Abruzzi, without entering Naples, to visit at Aquila, and make the
acquaintance of his sister Donna Margaret of Austria, the celebrated
Governess of the Low Countries and mother of Alexander Farnese. But
letters reached him in this retreat of piety from Philip II which were
much to his taste, and which obliged him to return to Naples and to put
off his visit. These letters made it clear that King Philip had decided
to bring about a third campaign against the Turks, according to the
injunctions of the League, for March of next year, 1573, and with this
end in view he ordered D. John not only to prepare the galleys, which
were wintering in Naples, for this date, but also to make their numbers
up to 300, and the fighting men to 60,000.
"And now that the affairs of the League are understood and talked about
in Rome," wrote D. John to his sister, explaining why he was prevented
from paying the visit he had announced, "I must attend to them here, to
inform the ministers deputed to do this business about things which
require questions and answers. H.M. has very really taken up the
continuation of the League, and has, therefore, given orders, and
especially to me, to attend to the reinforcement of his fleet. So with
this idea all the suitable provisions are being made. I hope to God that
all may conduce to damage the enemy, who, one hears, are arming
themselves in a great hurry, intending to set out to meet us, but,
perchance, they will happen on us before they imagine."
This was enough to awake in D. John the love which dominated all other
affections, and from that moment he thought of nothing but of obeying
his brother's orders, entirely forgetting Diana Falangola, until he took
a short holiday in the middle of February, and left Naples with a small
following, only thirty gentlemen, and set out for Aquila, the usual
residence of Donna Margarita of Austria. This lady was the eldest child
of the Emperor Charles V, born when he was twenty-two, four years before
his marriage; her mother was Margarita Vander Gheynst, a beautiful
Fleming, orphan of some wealthy carpet-weavers. Her father acknowledged
her a long time after her birth, and confided her to his sister, the
widowed Queen of Hungary, who was then Governess of the Low Countries.
The youthful Margarita was educated by her aunt, whose manly virtues and
hasty temper she always imitated, perhaps by natural impulse. They
married her when she was twelve years old to Alexander de Medicis, Duke
of Florence, who was assassinated during the first year of their
marriage; she then wedded Octavio Farnese, Duke of Parma and Piacenza,
by whom she was mother of the great Alexander, afterwards such a famous
leader. Her capacity was great, her character strong and masculine, and
her piety solid, strengthened by S. Ignacio de Loyola, who for some time
in Rome confessed her with much greater frequency than was then usual.
When Philip II publicly acknowledged D. John as his brother Donna
Margarita hastened to send an affectionate letter by Francesco de
Berminicourt, Lord of Thieuloye, who was one of her "maîtres d'hôtel,"
declaring herself a loving sister. D. John had answered suitably, and
from that time an uninterrupted correspondence had passed between
brother and sister, more filial than fraternal on D. John's part, and
more maternal on the part of Donna Margarita, as she was twenty-five
years older. When D. John came to Italy for the first time in 1571 Donna
Margarita sent one of her principal gentlemen, Pietro Aldobrandini, to
Genoa to welcome him, offer him hospitality, and to say how great was
her desire to see and embrace him. D. John was no less anxious to see
this unknown sister, who had shown him so much affection, and on the
first opportunity, the one we speak of, he set out for Aquila, where
Donna Margarita lived, having given over the government of Flanders to
the Duque de Alba.
Donna Margarita was then fifty, and was so vigorous in her person and in
her way of moving about, that she appeared more like a man dressed up as
a woman, with her black cloth petticoat for winter, and of serge for
summer, and her simple coif with its band of pearls. "Nor was a little
beard wanting," adds P. Strada; "and down on the upper lip, which not
only gave her a manly appearance, but also one of much authority." Donna
Margarita received her brother with affectionate warmth, and during the
few days he was there diversions and rejoicings succeeded one another in
Aquila, especially hunts, of which she was never tired. She challenged
her brother to chase a stag on horseback; he accepted, and, as this sort
of hunting is enough to kill anyone, D. John did not have to use much
self-denial in letting himself be beaten, and so please the lady.
They had long talks alone, in which she gave him prudent counsels and
wise political instruction, drawn from her experience as Governess. In
one of these talks she asked D. John whether he had any children. He
answered, "No." But said she, "If you ever have any, give them to me."
He got rather uncomfortable, and answered, "Possibly soon I may accept
this offer." She said no more; but after D. John left many things
happened, and on the 18th of June of this same year he wrote the
following letter to his sister from Naples:
"Lady, Y. Highness will laugh when you read what is contained in
this letter, and although I blush, I feel like doing so too.
Does Y. Highness remember, among other private things, asking me
if I had any children, and ordering me to give them to you if I
had? I answered that I would not take the favour you offered;
but I said _it soon might be_ accepted. This soon, Lady, is
almost now; as in a month's time I think that, bachelor as I am,
I shall see myself an ashamed and blushing father, I say
ashamed, for it is absurd for me to have children. Now Y.
Highness must forgive, as you must be a mother to me and to him
who is coming, which will be the first. And thus I truly beg you
to do me the kindness of undertaking this new work and trouble,
and that it should be with all possible secrecy and caution. But
this and the rest which may seem right and proper to you I leave
and desire to leave to Y. Highness, begging you not only to take
charge of everything, but to advise me about this and all that
you judge best: as it is certain to be, when the time comes to
make over the baby to Y. Highness, which will be as soon as it
can be taken to where you are without danger. Cardinal
Granvelle, who, out of love for me and that all should be better
and more secretly done, has taken charge of it until it can be
made over to you, to whom the said Cardinal will write. Again I
beg Y. Highness to agree to this, and that henceforward you will
consider you are the mother of father and child. The real mother
is one of the most highly born and well-known women here, and
one of the most beautiful in all Italy. For all these reasons,
especially that of her noble birth, it seems that you will
better bear this upset. This is all, Lady. From Naples, July 18,
1573. Your very true servant and brother kisses Y. High^n's
hands. Don John of Austria."
This "directly" at last happened. On the 11th of September Diana
Falangola gave birth to a daughter, who was baptised by the name of
Juana. Cardinal Granvelle at once took charge of it, and gave it to the
care of a nurse, engaged beforehand. Two months later, the Cardinal
complied with the orders of D. John and Donna Margarita, and sent the
baby to Aquila, with its nurse and her husband, in charge of Francisco
Castano, of the Cardinal's household. Castano accompanied them as far as
the village of Rocca, near Sulmona, and there confided them to a trusty
person great secrecy that no one should guess the child's origin.[15]
Footnote 15:
Margarita of Parma carefully educated her niece, and kept her until
the death of D. John. When this happened she did all she could to
influence Philip II to recognise the child; but all she could obtain
from the King was an order that Doña Juana should enter the convent of
St. Clara at Naples, with a nun of noble birth to look after her and
four nuns to wait on her. For this he obtained a brief from the Pope,
and was always careful to commend the person of Doña Juana to the
Viceroys of Naples. This lady was very bright and intelligent: she
spoke several languages and wrote books in Latin which she dedicated
to the King and his son, afterwards Philip III. When he came to the
throne, persuaded that she had no vocation, he tried to arrange a
marriage for her and at last succeeded in 1603, wedding her to
Francisco Branciforte, eldest son of the Prince of Butera. Philip III
gave her a dower of 60,000 ducats and an income of 3000 for pin-money.
Doña Juana died at Naples on February 7th, 1630, when she was
fifty-six, leaving an only daughter called Margarita, after the
Duchess of Parma. This Margarita Branciforte, D. John's only
grandchild, married Federico Colonna, Duke de Patrano and Constable of
Naples.
Historians wonder why D. John so flatly denied to his sister the
existence of his other daughter. What obliged D. John to keep up this
deception all his life was probably the promise of secrecy made to Doña
Magdalena, and his fear of scandal for the unhappy Doña Maria de
Mendoza.