They dressed the corpse in his war armour, and, as a sign of piety, in a Franciscan's cloak; the hands were crossed over the breast, on which rested his sword, whose handle was a cross. D. John arranged that the corpse should be exposed all the morning before the army, on a litter adorned with trophies and flags, and that in the afternoon they should carry it and bury it in the convent of the Heronimites at Baza, which was the place Quijada had himself chosen, until Doña Magdalena could carry it elsewhere.[10] All the army were on the march with arquebuses reversed, the lances, pikes and flags trailing, the drums muffled, the clarions and pipes untuned. The oldest captains carried the litter alternately, and behind them went D. John, riding a mule, covered to the ground with mourning, he wearing a cloak with a hood which covered him to the eyes, his standard of Generalissimo in front, not reversed like the other flags, but carried high as usual; the Knight Commander followed and all the leaders of the army, more or less wearing mourning, according to what black cloth they could procure in that wretched place. Footnote 10: The remains of Luis Quijada were translated two years later with much pomp to the church of S. Luis at Villagarcia by Doña Magdalena de Ulloa, where she also now rests near the high altar. The figure of his tomb no longer exists, but the inscription still does, which says that he is buried under the altar and that he died "as he would have wished, fighting against the infidel, 25 Feb., 1570" (note abridged by Translator). Doña Magdalena stayed on three days in the camp and then went to the convent of Abrojo, where she intended retiring for a few weeks. She travelled in a very comfortable mourning litter which D. John had provided for her, and he accompanied her for two leagues beyond Canilles, riding by the side of her litter. There they separated: she sad as one having left behind all she loved; he sad too—as sad as one can be at twenty-three. CHAPTER XVIII