CHAPTER XVI.
ADIEU TO THE PALACE.
At sunset a cold wind blew from the north, followed by a cloud whichsoon filled the valley with mist; soon the mist turned to rain; then therain turned to night, and the night to deepest blackness.
The Christians, thinking only of escape from the city, saw the change ofweather with sinking hearts. With one voice they had chosen the night asmost favorable for the movement, but they had in mind then asemi-darkness warmed by south winds and brilliant with stars; not a timelike this so unexpectedly come upon them,--tempest added to gloom, icywind splashing the earth with icy water.
Under the walls the sentinels cowered shivering and listening and, as isthe habit of wanderers surrounded by discomforts and miseries, musing oftheir homes so far away, and of the path thither; on the land so beset,on the sea so viewless. Recalled to present duty, they saw nothing butthe fires of the nearest temple faintly iridescent, and heard only themoans of the blast and the pattering of the rain, always so in harmonywith the spirit when it is oppressed by loneliness and danger.
Meantime, the final preparation for retreat went on with thecompleteness of discipline.
About the close of the second watch of the night, Cortes, with hispersonal attendants,--page, equerry, and secretaries,--left his chamberand proceeded to the eastern gate, where he could best receive reports,and assure himself, as the divisions filed past him, that the column wasformed as he had ordered. The superstructure of the gate offered himshelter; but he stood out, bridle in hand, his back to the storm. Therehe waited, grimly silent, absorbed in reflections gloomy as the nightitself.
Everything incident to the preparation which required light had beendone before the day expired; outside the house, therefore, there was nota spark to betray the movement to the enemy; in fact, nothing to betrayit except the beat of horses' hoofs and the rumble of gun-carriages, andthey were nigh drowned by the tempest. If the saints would but help himclear of the streets of the city, would help him to the causeway even,without bringing the infidels upon him, sword and lance would win therest: so the leader prayed and trusted the while he waited.
"My son, is it thou?" asked a man, close at his side.
He turned quickly, and replied, "Father Bartolome! Welcome! What dostthou bring?"
"Report of the sick and wounded."
"I remember, I remember! Of all this bad business, by my conscience! nopart so troubled me as to say what should be done with them. At the lastmoment thou wert good enough to take the task upon thyself. Speak: whatdid thy judgment dictate? What did thy conscience permit?"
The good man arranged his hood, the better to shield his face from therain, and answered,--
"Of the Christians, all who are able will take their places in the line;the very sick will be borne by Tlascalans; the litters are ready forthem."
"Very well," said Cortes.
"The Tlascalans--"
"_Cierto_, there the trouble began!" and Cortes laid his hand heavily onthe priest's shoulder. "Three hundred and more of them too weak to risefrom the straw, which yet hath not kept their bones from bruising thestony floor! Good heart, what didst thou with them?"
"They are dead."
"Mother of God! Didst thou kill them?" Cortes griped the shoulder untilOlmedo groaned. "Didst thou kill them?"
The father shook himself loose, saying, "There is no blood on my hands.The Holy Mother came to my help; and this was the way. Remembrance ofthe love of Christ forbade the leaving one Christian behind; but theheathen born had no such appeal; they must be left,--necessity said so.I could not kill them. By priestly office, I could prepare them fordeath; and so I went from man to man with holy formula and sacramentalwafer. The caciques were with me the while, and when I had concluded,they spoke some words to the sufferers: then I saw what never Christiansaw before. Hardly wilt thou believe me, but, Senor, I beheld the poorwretches, with smiles, bare their breasts, and the chiefs begin andthrust their javelins into the hearts of all there lying."
An exclamation of horror burst from Cortes,--
"'Twas murder, murder! What didst thou?"
Olmedo replied quickly, "Trust me, my son, I rushed in, and stayed thework until the victims themselves prayed the chiefs to go on. Not eventhen did I give over my efforts,--not until they made me understand thepurpose of the butchery."
"And that? Haste thee, father. What thou tellest will staggerChristendom!"
Again Cortes caught the priest's shoulder.
"Nay," said the latter, shrinking back, "thy hand is hard enough withoutits glove of steel."
"Pardon, father; but,--"
"In good time, my son, in good time! What, but for thy impatience, Iwould have said ere this is, that the object was to save the honor ofthe tribe, and, by killing the unfortunates, rescue them from the godsof their enemy. Accordingly, the bands who are first to enter the palaceto-night or to-morrow will find treasure,--much treasure as thouknowest,--but not one victim."
The father spoke solemnly, for in the circumstance there was a strain ofpious exaltation that found an echo in his own devoted nature; greatlywas he shocked to hear Cortes laugh.
"_Valgame Dios!_" he cried, crossing himself; "the man blasphemes!"
"Blasphemes, saidst thou?" and Cortes checked himself. "May the saintsforget me forever, if I laughed at the tragedy thou wert telling! Ilaughed at thy simplicity, father."
"Is this a time for jesting?" asked Olmedo.
"Good father," said Cortes, gravely, "the bands that take the palaceto-night or to-morrow will find no treasure,--not enough to buy aChristmas ribbon for a country girl. Look now. I went to thetreasure-room a little while before coming here, and there I found thevarlets of Narvaez loading themselves with bars of silver and gold;they had sacks and pouches belted to their waists and shoulders, andwere filling them to bursting. Possibly some gold-dust spilled on thefloor may remain for those who succeed us; but nothing more. Pray thou,good priest, good friend, pray thou that the treasure be not found inthe road we travel to-night."
A body of men crossing the court-yard attracted Cortes; then fourhorsemen approached, and stopped before him.
"Is it thou, Sandoval?" he asked.
"Yes, Senor."
"And Ordas, Lugo, and Tapia?"
"Here," they replied.
"And thy following, Sandoval?"
"The cavaliers of Narvaez whom thou gavest me, one hundred chosensoldiers, and the Tlascalans to the number thou didst order."
"_Bien!_ Lead out of the gate, and halt after making what thou deemestroom for the other divisions. Christ and St. James go with thee!"
"Amen!" responded Olmedo.
And so the vanguard passed him,--a long succession of shadowy files thathe heard rather than saw. Hardly were they gone when another bodyapproached, led by an officer on foot.
"Who art thou?" asked Cortes.
"Magarino," the man replied.
"Whom have you?"
"One hundred and fifty Christians, and four hundred Tlascalans."
"And the bridge?"
"We have it here."
"As thou lovest life and honor, captain, heed well thine orders. Moveon, and join thyself to Sandoval."
The bridge spoken of was a portable platform of hewn plank bolted to aframe of stout timbers, designed to pass the column over the threecanals intersecting the causeway to Tlacopan, which, in the sally of theafternoon, had been found to be bridgeless. If the canals were deep ashad been reported, well might Magarino be charged with particular care!
In the order of march next came the centre or main body, Cortes'immediate command. The baggage was in their charge, also the greaterpart of the artillery, making of itself a long train, and one of vastinterest; for, though in the midst of a confession of failure, theleader did not abate his intention of conquest,--such was a peculiarityof his genius.
"Mexia, Avila, good gentlemen," he said, halting the royal treasurers,"let me assure myself of
what beyond peradventure ye are assured."
And he counted the horses and men bearing away the golden dividend ofthe emperor, knowing if what they had in keeping were safely lodged inthe royal depositaries, there was nothing which might not becondoned,--not usurpation, defeat even. Most literally, they bore hisfortune.
A moment after there came upon him a procession of motley composition:disabled Christians; servants, mostly females, carrying the trifles theymost affected,--here a bundle of wearing apparel, there a cage with abird; prisoners, amongst others the prince Cacama, heart-broken by hismisfortunes; women of importance and rank, comfortably housed incurtained palanquins. So went Marina, her slaves side by side with thoseof Nenetzin, in whose mind the fears, sorrows, and emotions of thethousands setting out in the march had no place, for Alvarado hadwrapped her in his cloak, and lifted her into the carriage, and left akiss on her lips, with a promise of oversight and protection.
As if to make good the promise, almost on the heels of her slaves rodethe deft cavalier, blithe of spirit, because of the happy chance whichmade the place of the lover that of duty also. Behind him, wellapportioned of Christians and Tlascalans and much the largest of thedivisions, moved the rear-guard, of which he and Leon were chiefs. Hisbay mare, Bradamante, however, seemed not to share his gayety, buttossed her head, and champed the bit, and frequently shied as if scared.
"Have done, my pretty girl!" he said to her. "Frightened, art thou? 'Tisonly the wind, ugly enough, I trow, but nothing worse. Or art thoujealous? _Verguenza!_ To-morrow she shall find thee in the greenpasture, and kiss thee as I will her."
"_Ola_, captain!" said Cortes, approaching him. "To whom speakest thou?"
"To my mistress, Bradamante, Senor," he replied, checking the reinimpatiently. "Sometimes she hath airs prettier, as thou knowest, thanthe prettinesses of a woman; but now,--So ho, girl!--now she--Have done,I say!--now she hath a devil. And where she got it I know not, unlessfrom the knave Botello."[52]
"What of him? Where is he?" asked Cortes, with sudden interest.
"Back with Leon, talking, as is his wont, about certain subtleties,nameless by good Christians, but which he nevertheless callethprophecies."
"What saith the man now?"
"Out of the mass of his follies, I remember three: that thou, Senor,from extreme misfortune, shalt at last attain great honor; that to-nighthundreds of us will be lost,--which last I can forgive in him, if onlyhis third prediction come true."
"And that?"
"Nay, Senor, except as serving to show that the rogue hath in him asavor of uncommon fairness, it is the least important of all; he saithhe himself will be amongst the lost."
Then Cortes laughed, saying, "Wilt thou never be done with thy quips?Lead on. I will wait here a little longer."
Alvarado vanished, being in haste to recover his place behind Nenetzin.Before Cortes then, with the echoless tread of panthers in the glade,hurried the long array of Tlascalans; after them, the cross-bowmen andarquebusiers, their implements clashing against their heavy armor; yethe stood silent, pondering the words of Botello. Not until, with wheelsgrinding and shaking the pavement, the guns reached him did he wake fromhis thinking.
"Ho, Mesa, well met!" he said to the veteran, whom he distinguished amida troop of slaves dragging the first piece. "This is not a night likethose in Italy where thou didst learn the cunning of thy craft; yetthere might be worse for us."
"_Mira_, Senor!" and Mesa went to him, and said in a low voice, "Whatthou saidst was cheerily spoken, that I might borrow encouragement; andI thank thee, for I have much need of all the comfort thou hast to give.A poor return have I, Senor. If the infidels attack us, rely not uponthe guns, not even mine: if the wind did not whisk the priming away, therain would drown it,--and then,"--his voice sunk to a whisper; "_ourmatches will not burn!_"
At that moment a gust dashed Cortes with water, and for the first timehe was chilled,--chilled until his teeth chattered; for simultaneously apresentiment of calamity touched him with what in a man less brave wouldhave been fear. He saw how, without the guns, Botello's secondprediction was possible! Nevertheless, he replied,--
"The saints can help their own in the dark as well as in the light. Dothy best. To-morrow thou shalt be captain."
Then Cortes mounted his horse, and took his shield, and to his wristchained his battle-axe: still he waited. A company of horsemen brushedpast him, followed by a solitary rider.
"Leon!" said Cortes.
The cavalier stopped, and replied,--
"What wouldst thou, Senor?"
"Are the guards withdrawn?"
"All of them."
"And the sentinels?"
"I have been to every post; not a man is left."
Cortes spoke to his attendants and they, too, rode off; when they weregone he said to Leon,--
"Now we may go."
And with that together they passed out into the street. Cortes turned,and looked toward the palace, now deserted; but the night seemed to havesnatched the pile away, and in its place left a blackened void. Fugitiveas he was, riding he knew not to what end, he settled in his saddleagain with a sigh--not for the old house itself, nor for the comfort ofits roof, nor for the refuge in time of danger; not for the Christiandead reposing in its gardens, their valor wasted and their gravesabandoned, nor for that other victim there sacrificed in his cause,whose weaknesses might not be separated from a thousand services, and aroyalty superbly Eastern: these were things to wake the emotions ofyouths and maidens, young in the world, and of poets, dreamy andsimple-minded; he sighed for the power he had there enjoyed,--the weeksand months when his word was law for an empire of shadowy vastness, andhe was master, in fact, of a king of kings,--immeasurable power nowlost, apparently forever.