Philip II approved of his brother's proposal and authorised him to expel all Moors over ten and under sixty from Granada.

They were to be assigned places of habitation in the villages of Andalucia and Castille, which the King indicated, and handed over lists to the justices there, that they might know about them.

The King also desired, to avoid scandal and to perform the matter more gently, that the exile should not be inflicted as a punishment, but that they were to be given to understand that they were taken away from danger for their own good and peace, and that, quiet being restored, they would be taken care of, and that the loyal and innocent would be rewarded. Few were so in their acts and none were so in their feelings.

As D. Philip said, it was a dangerous piece of work for two different reasons. It was to be feared that the Moors, seeing themselves found out, would try some last and supreme stroke; and it was equally probable that the populace of Granada, on seeing them captured and without arms, would rise against them and commit some barbarous injury to their persons and property. D. John foresaw all; with great prudence and secrecy he sent to warn first of all, the armed men in the towns and villages of the plain, and on the 23rd of June, the Eve of St. John's Day, he suddenly issued a proclamation, ordering that in two hours' time all the Moors who dwelt in the town of Granada, or its castle, and in the Albaicin, citizens as well as strangers, should repair to their respective parish churches.

The terror of the Moors was great, and fear and surprise stopped all idea of resistance; they knew themselves to be criminals worthy of the extreme penalty, and they were afraid that they were going to be imprisoned in order that they might be beheaded.

With a great tumult of groans and tears they all ran to the square of Bib-el-Bonut, to the residence of the Jesuits, and, giving mournful cries, called for Father Juan de Albotodo, a Moor by origin, who was so often their protector, helper, and also their dupe. The Father appeared at a window, without cap or cloak, as he was in the house, and heard the cries of these shameless ones, who already did not dare to demand justice, but only craved for mercy from the King, and charity and help to save their lives from the Father. Albotodo was truly a saint, a man of about forty, worn in body and face, very sunburnt and with such black eyes and hair that they proclaimed his Arab origin at once.

Albotodo descended to the square, and these wretched people did and said such things that they touched the Jesuit's very tender heart, and he ran off to the Audiencia without stopping to get hat or cloak, hoping to soften President Deza's heart, or, if necessary, D. John of Austria's. All the people followed him with groans to the entrance of the Albaicin, but no one dared to descend the hill, as the danger and their bad consciences had made cowards of them, as always happens to criminals.

Breathless the Jesuit arrived at the Audiencia, and the President received him as if he saw an angel coming down from heaven. Nothing could have been more opportune than his intervention, because no one could quiet the Moors as he could, and convince them that their lives were not in danger. In such good faith did D. Pedro Deza act, that he spontaneously offered to give a paper, signed with his name, to the Jesuit, assuring their lives to the Moors. The Father accepted his word: and wrote the document himself, which D. Pedro Deza signed, and the Jesuit, satisfied with this, ran back to the Albaicin, waving the parchment above his head, as if to quicken the hopes of the unhappy men he detested as criminals, but whom he cordially pitied as brothers and doomed men.

Father Albotodo read the parchment from the window: they believing it as he was a priest, says a chronicler, decided to go to their parish churches, depressed, gloomy and suspicious, because as soon as their hopes for their lives were confirmed, their anger and spite were rekindled, which only death could extinguish.

D. John ordered the parish churches to be guarded with several companies of infantry, and, having managed to establish order as regarded the Moors, he anticipated any trouble on the part of the Christians by issuing a proclamation, in the name of the King, to the effect that the confined Moors were under the royal protection and care, and had been promised that no harm should befall them, and that they were being taken from Granada out of danger from the soldiers.

Everyone in Granada, however, awoke the next morning uneasy and full of anxiety, because the Moors had to be moved from the parish churches, where they had spent the night, to the Royal Hospital beyond the gates, and there given over to the charge of the clerks and royal enumerators in order that the former should make a list of them, and that the others should undertake to assign them residences in those villages in Castille and Andalucia settled beforehand. Rebellion and mutiny were feared on both sides, and such would have been the case had not D. John foreseen everything. He ordered that all the soldiers should form up at daybreak in the plain between the gate of Elvira and the Royal Hospital, which was the most open and dangerous place. He commanded the first of the companies himself, and the other three were led by the Duque de Sesa, Luis Quijada, and the Licentiate Briviesca de Mu?atones.

D. John took up his position at the door of the hospital, which was the most critical post. His standard of Captain-General, which was of crimson damask, much adorned with gold and having a figure of Christ on one side and of His Blessed Mother on the other, was carried in front of him to give him more authority. Pity towards these unarmed wretches was,............