CHAPTER XVIII.
LA NOCHE TRISTE.
The movement of the fugitive army was necessarily slow. Stretched out inthe street, it formed a column of irregular front and great depth. Aconsiderable portion was of non-combatants, such as the sick andwounded, the servants, women, and prisoners; to whom might be added theIndians carrying the baggage and ammunition, and laboriously draggingthe guns. The darkness, and the rain beaten into the faces of thesufferers by the wind, made the keeping order impossible; at each stepthe intervals between individuals and between the divisions grew widerand wider. After crossing two or three of the bridges, a generalconfusion began to prevail; the officers, in dread of the enemy, failedto call out, and the soldiers, bending low to protect their faces, andhugging their arms or their treasure, marched in dogged silence,indifferent to all but themselves. Soon what was at first a fair columnin close order became an irregular procession; here a crowd of all thearms mixed, there a thin line of stragglers.
It is a simple thing, I know, yet nothing has so much to do with what wehabitually call our spirits as the condition in which we are at thetime. Under an open sky, with the breath of a glowing morning in ournostrils, we sing, laugh, and are brave; but let the cloud hide the blueexpanse and cover our walk with shadow, and we shrink within ourselves;or worse, let the walk be in the night, through a strange place, withrain and cold added, and straightway the fine thing we call couragemerges itself into a sense of duty or sinks into humbler concern forcomfort and safety. So, not a man in all the column,--not a cavalier,not a slave,--but felt himself oppressed by the circumstances of thesituation; those who, only that afternoon, had charged like lions alongthat very street now yielded to the indefinable effect, and were weak ofheart even to timidity. The imagination took hold of most of them,especially of the humbler class, and, lining the way with terrors allits own, reduced them to the state when panic rushes in to complete whatfear begins. They started at the soughing of the wind; drew to strikeeach other; cursed the rattle of their arms, the hoof-beats of thehorses, the rumble of the carriage-wheels; on the houses, vaguelydefined against the sky, they saw sentinels ready to give the alarm,and down the intersecting streets heard the infidel legions rushing uponthem; very frequently they stumbled over corpses yet cumbering the wayafter the day's fight, and then they whispered the names of saints, andcrossed themselves: the dead, always suggestive of death, were never somuch so to them.
And so, for many squares, across canals, past palaces and temples, theymarched, and nothing to indicate an enemy; the city seemed deserted.
"Hist, Senor!" said Duero, speaking with bated breath. "Hast thou notheard of the army of unbelievers that, in the night, while resting intheir camp, were by a breath put to final sleep? Verily, the same goodangel of the Lord hath been here also."
"Nay, _compadre mio_," replied Cortes, bending in his saddle, "I cannotso persuade myself. If the infidels meant to let us go, the going wouldnot be so peaceful. From some house-top we should have had theirbarbarous farewell,--a stone, a lance, an arrow, at least a curse. Bymany signs,--for that matter, by the rain which, driven through thevisor bars, is finding its way down the doublet under mybreastplate,--by many signs, I know we are in the midst of a storm. GoodMother forfend, lest, bad as it is, it presage something worse!"
At that moment a watcher on the _azoteas_ of a temple near by chantedthe hour of midnight.
"Didst hear?" asked Cortes. "They are not asleep! Olmedo! father! Whereart thou?"
"What wouldst thou, my son?"
"That thou shouldst not get lost in this Tophet; more especially, thatthou shouldst keep to thy prayers."
And about that time Sandoval, at the head of his advanced guard, rodefrom the street out on the open causeway. Farther on, but at no greatdistance, he came to the first canal. While there, waiting for thebridge to be brought forward, he heard from the lake to his right thepeal long and loud of a conch-shell. His heart, in battle steadfast as arock, throbbed faster; and with raised shield and close-griped sword, helistened, as did all with him, while other shells took up and carriedthe blast back to the city, and far out over the lake.
In the long array none failed to interpret the sound aright; allrecognized a signal of attack, and halted, the slave by his prolong, theknight on his horse, each one as the moment found him. They said not aword, but listened; and as they heard the peal multiply countlessly inevery direction,--now close by, now far off,--surprise, the firstemotion, turned to dismay. Flight,--darkness,--storm,--and now theinfidels! "May God have mercy on us!" murmured the brave, making readyto fight. "May God have mercy on us!" echoed the timid, ready to fly.
The play of the wind upon the lake seemed somewhat neutralized by thedensity of the rain; still the waves splashed lustily against thegrass-grown sides of the causeway; and while Sandoval was wondering ifthere were many, who, in frail canoes, would venture upon the waste atsuch a time, another sound, heard, as it were, under that of the conchs,yet too strong to be confounded with wind or surging water, challengedhis attention; then he was assured.
"Now, gentlemen," he said, "get ye ready; they are coming. Pass theword, and ride one to Magarino,--speed to him, speed him here! Hisbridge laid now were worth a hundred lives!"
As the yells of the infidels--or, rather, their yell, for the manyvoices rolled over the water in one great volume--grew clearer theirdesign became manifest.
Cortes touched Olmedo:--
"Dost thou remember the brigantines?"
"What of them?"
"Only, father, that what will happen to-night would not if they wereafloat. Now shall we pay the penalty of their loss. _Ay de mi!_" Then hesaid aloud to the cavaliers, Morla, Olid, Avila, and others. "By myconscience, a dark day for us was that in which the lake went back tothe heathen,--brewer, it, of this darker night! An end of loitering! Bidthe trumpeters blow the advance! One ride forward to hasten Magarino;another to the rear that the division may be closed up. No space for thedogs to land from their canoes. Hearken!"
The report of a gun, apparently back in the city, reached them.
"They are attacking the rear-guard! Mesa spoke then. On the right hearthem, and on the left! Mother of God, if our people stand not firm now,better prayers for our souls than fighting for our lives!"
A stone then struck Avila, startling the group with its clang upon hisarmor.
"A slinger!" cried Cortes. "On the right here,--can ye see him?"
They looked that way, but saw nothing. Then the sense of helplessness inexposure smote them, and, knightly as they were, they also felt thecommon fear.
"Make way! Room, room!" shouted Magarino, rushing to the front, throughthe advance-guard. His Tlascalans were many and stout; to swim thecanal,--with ropes to draw the bridge after them,--to plant it acrossthe chasm, were things achieved in a moment.
"Well done, Magarino! Forward, gentlemen,--forward all!" so saying,Sandoval spurred across; after him, in reckless haste, his wholedivision rushed. The platform, quivering throughout, was stancher thanthe stone revetments upon which its ends were planted; calcined by fire,they crumbled like chalk. The crowd then crossing, sensible that thefloor was giving way under them, yelled with terror, and in theirfrantic struggle to escape toppled some of them into the canal. Nonepaused to look after the unfortunates; for the shouting of the infidels,which had been coming nearer and nearer, now rose close at hand,muffling the thunder of the horses plunging on the sinking bridge.Moreover, stones and arrows began to fall in that quarter with effect,quickening the hurry to get away.
Cortes reached the bridge at the same time the infidels reached thecauseway. He called to Magarino; before the good captain could answer,the waves to the right hand became luminous with the plashing ofcountless paddles, and a fleet of canoes burst out of the darkness. Uprose the crews, ghost-like in their white armor, and showered theChristians with missiles. A cry of terror,--a rush,--and the cavalierswere pushed on the bridge, which they jammed deeper
in the rocks. Somehorses, wild with fright, leaped into the lake, and, iron-clad, liketheir riders, were seen no more.
On the further side, Cortes wheeled about, and shouted to his friends.Olmedo answered, so did Morla; then they were swept onward.
Alone, and in peril of being forced down the side of the dike, Cortesheld his horse to the place. The occasional boom of guns, a stragglingfire of small arms, and the unintermitted cries of the infidels, in toneexultant and merciless, assured him that the attack was the sameeverywhere down the column. One look he gave the scene near by,--on thebridge, a mass of men struggling, cursing, praying; wretches falling,their shrieks shrill with despair; the lake whitening with assailants!He shuddered, and called on the saints; then the instinct of the soldierprevailed:--
"_Ola_, comrades!" he cried. "It is nothing. Stand, if ye love life.Stand, and fight, as ye so well know how! Holy Cross! _Christo ySantiago!_"
He spurred into the thick of the throng. In vain: the current was toostrong; the good steed seconded him with hoof and frontlet; now heprayed, now cursed; at last he yielded, seeing that on the other side ofthe bridge was Fear, on his side Panic.
When the signal I have described, borne from the lake to the city, beganto resound from temple to temple, the rear-guard were yet many squaresfrom the causeway, and had, for the most part, become merely aprocession of drenched and cowering stragglers. The sound alarmed them;and divining its meaning, they assembled in accidental groups, and sohurried forward.
Nenetzin and Marina, yet in company, were also startled by the noisyshells. The latter stayed not to question or argue; at her word, sharplyspoken, her slaves followed fast after the central division, and restednot until they had gained a place well in advance of the non-combatants,whose slow and toilsome progress she had shrewdly dreaded. Not soNenetzin: the alarm proceeded from her countrymen; feared she,therefore, for her lover; and when, vigilant as he was gallant, he rodeto her, and kissed her hand, and spoke to her in lover's phrase, shelaughed, though not understanding a word, and bade her slaves stay withhim.
Last man in the column was Leon, brave gentleman, good captain. With hishorsemen, he closed upon the artillery.
"Friend," he said to Mesa, "the devil is in the night. As thou artfamiliar with wars as Father Olmedo with mass, how readest thou thenoise we hear?"
The veteran, walking at the moment between two of his guns, replied,--
"Interpret we each for himself, Senor. I am ready to fight. See!"
And drawing his cloak aside, he showed the ruddy spark of a lightedmatch.
"As thou seest, I am ready; yet"--and he lowered his voice--"I shame notto confess that I wish we were well out of this."
"Good soldier art thou!" said Leon. "I will stay with thee. _A la Madretodos!_"
The exclamation had scarcely passed his lips when to their left andfront the darkness became peopled with men in white, rushing upon them,and shouting, "Up, up, Tlateloco! _O, O luilones, luilones!_"[53]
"Turn thy guns quickly, Mesa, or we are lost!" cried Leon; and to hiscomrades, "Swords and axes! Upon them, gentlemen! _Santiago, Santiago!_"
The veteran as promptly resolved himself into action. A word to hismen,--then he caught a wheel with one hand, and swung the carriageround, and applied the match. The gun failed fire, but up sprang ahissing flame, and in its lurid light out came all the scene about: theinfidels pouring into the street, the Tlascalans and many Spaniards inflight, Leon charging almost alone, and right amongst the guns afighting man,--by his armor, half pagan, half Christian,--all this Mesasaw, and more,--that the slaves had abandoned the ropes, and that of thegunners the few who stood their ground were struggling for life hand tohand; still more, that the gun he was standing by looked point-blankinto the densest ranks of the foe. Never word spoke he; repriming thepiece, he applied the match again. The report shook the earth, and washeard and recognized by Cortes out on the causeway; but it was theveteran's last shot. To his side sprang the 'tzin: in his ear a war-cry,on his morion a blow, and under the gun he died. When Duty loses a goodservant Honor gains a hero.
The fight--or, rather, the struggle of the few against the many--wenton. The 'tzin led his people boldly, and they failed him not. Leon drewtogether all he could of Christians and Tlascalans; then, as game to betaken at leisure, his enemy left him. Soon the fugitives followingAlvarado heard a strange cry coming swiftly after them, "_O, O luilones!O luilones!_"
And through the rain and the night, doubly dark in the canals, Hualpasped to the open lake, followed by nine canoes, fashioned for speed,each driven by six oarsmen, and carrying four warriors; so there werewith him nine and thirty chosen men, with linked mail under their whitetunics, and swords of steel on their long lances,--arms and armor of theChristians.
Off the causeway, beyond the first canal, he waited, until the greatflotillas, answering his signal, closed in on the right hand and left;then he started for the canal, chafing at the delay of his vessels.
"Faster, faster, my men!" he said aloud; then to himself, "Now will Iwrest her from the robber, and after that she will give me her loveagain. O happy, happy hour!"
He sought the canal, thinking, doubtless, that the Christians would findit impassable, and that in their front, as the place of safety, theywould most certainly place Nenetzin. There, into the press he drove.
"Not here! Back, my men!" he shouted.
The chasm was bridged.
And marvelling at the skill of the strangers, which overcamedifficulties as by magic, and trembling lest they should escape and hislove be lost to him after all, he turned his canoe,--if possible, to bethe first at the next canal. Others of his people were going in the samedirection, but he out-stript them.
"Faster, faster!" he cried; and the paddles threshed the water,--wingsof the lake-birds not more light and free. Into the causeway he bent, soclose as to hear the tramp of horses; sometimes shading his eyes againstthe rain, and looking up, he saw the fugitives, black against theclouds,--strangers and Tlascalans,--plumes of men, but never scarf ofwoman.
Very soon the people on the causeway heard his call to the boatmen, andthe plash of the paddles, and they quickened their pace.
"_Adelante! adelante!_" cried Sandoval, and forward dashed thecavaliers.
"O my men, land us at the canal before the strangers come up, and in mypalace at ease you shall eat and drink all your lives! Faster, faster!"
So Hualpa urged his rowers, and in their sinewy hands the oaken bladesbent like bows.
Behind dropped the footmen,--even the Tlascalans; and weak from hungerand wounds, behind dropped some of the horses. Shook the causeway,foamed the water. A hundred yards,--and the coursers of the lake wereswift as the coursers of the land; half a mile,--and the appeal of theinfidel and the cheering cry of the Christian went down the wind on thesame gale. At last, as Hualpa leaped from his boat, Sandoval checked hishorse,--both at the canal.
Up the dike the infidels clambered to the attack. And there was clang ofswords and axes, and rearing and plunging of steeds; then the voice ofthe good captain,--
"God's curse upon them! They have our shields!"
A horse, pierced to the heart, leaped blindly down the bank, and fromthe water rose the rider's imploration: "Help, help, comrades! For thelove of Christ, help! I am drowning!"
Again Sandoval,--
"_Cuidado_,--beware! They have our swords on their lances!" Then,observing his horsemen giving ground, "Stand fast! Unless we hold thecanal for Magarino, all is lost! Upon them! _Santiago, Santiago!_"
A rally and a charge! The sword-blades did their work well; horses,wounded to death or dead, began to cumber the causeway, and the groansand prayers of their masters caught under them were horrible to hear.Once, with laughter and taunting jests, the infidels retreated down theslope; and once, some of them, close pressed, leaped into the canal. Thelake received them kindly; with all their harness on they swam ashore.Never was Sandoval so distressed.
Meantime, the footmen began to come up; and as they were
intolerablygalled by the enemy, who sometimes landed and engaged them hand to hand,they clamored for those in front to move on. "Magarino! The bridge, thebridge! Forward!" With such cries, they pressed upon the horsemen, andreduced the space left them for action.
At length Sandoval shouted,--
"_Ola_, all who can swim! Follow me!"
And riding down the bank, he spurred into the water. Many were boldenough to follow; and though some were drowned, the greater part madethe passage safely. Then the cowering, shivering mass left behindwithout a leader, became an easy prey; and steadily, pitilessly,silently, Hualpa and his people fought,--silently, for all the time hewas listening for a woman's voice, the voice of his beloved.
And now, fast riding, Cortes came to the second canal, with somecavaliers whom he rallied on the way; behind him, as if in pursuit, somadly did they run, followed all of the central division who succeededin passing the bridge. The sick and wounded, the prisoners, even kingCacama and the women, abandoned by their escort, were slain andcaptured,--all save Marina, rescued by some Tlascalans, and a SpanishAmazon, who defended herself with sword and shield.
At points along the line of flight the infidels intercepted thefugitives. Many terrible combats ensued. When the Christians kept ingroups, as did most of the veterans, they generally beat off theassailants. The loss fell chiefly upon the Tlascalans, the cross-bowmen,and arquebusiers, whose arms the rain had ruined, and the recruits ofNarvaez, who, weighted down by their treasure and overcome by fear, ranblindly along, and fell almost without resistance.
One great effort Cortes made at the canal to restore order before themob could come up.
"God help us!" he cried at last to the gentlemen with him. "Here arebowmen and gunners without arms, and horsemen without room to charge.Nothing now but to save ourselves! And that we may not do, if we wait.Let us follow Sandoval. Hearken to the howling! How fast they come! Andby my conscience, with them they bring the lake alive with fiends!Olmedo, thou with me! Come, Morla, Avila, Olid! Come, all who care forlife!"
And through the _melee_ they pushed, through the murderous lancers, downthe bank,--Cortes first, and good knights on the right and left of thefather. There was plunging and floundering of horses, and yells ofinfidels, and the sound of deadly blows, and from the swimmers shrieksfor help, now to comrades, now to saints, now to Christ.
"Ho, Sandoval, right glad am I to find thee!" said Cortes, on thefurther side of the canal. "Why waitest thou?"
"For the coming of the bridge, Senor."
"_Bastante!_ Take what thou hast, and gallop to the next canal. I willdo thy part here."
And dripping from the plunge in the lake, chilled by the calamity morethan by the chill wind, and careless of the stones and arrows thathurtled about him, he faced the fight, and waited, saying simply,--"Ogood Mother, hasten Magarino!"
Never prayer more hearty, never prayer more needed! For the centraldivision had passed, and Alvarado had come and gone, and down thecauseway to the city no voice of Christian was to be heard; at hand,only the infidels with their melancholy cry, of unknown import, "_O, Oluilones! O, O luilones!_" Then Magarino summoned his Tlascalans andChristians to raise the bridge. How many of them had died the death ofthe faithful, how many had basely fled, he knew not; the darknesscovered the glory as well as the shame. To work he went. And whatsickness of the spirit, what agony ineffable seized him! The platformwas too fast fixed in the rocks to be moved! Awhile he fought, awhiletoiled, awhile prayed; all without avail. In his ears lingered theparting words of Cortes, and he stayed though his hope was gone. Everymoment added to the dead and wounded around him, yet he stayed. He wasthe dependence of the army: how could he leave the bridge? His mendeserted him; at last he was almost alone; before him was a warriorwhose shield when struck gave back the ring of iron, and whose blowscame with the weight of iron; while around closer and closer circled thewhite uniforms of the infidels; then he cried,--
"God's curse upon the bridge! What mortals can, my men, we have done tosave it; enough now, if we save ourselves!"
And drawn by the great law, supreme in times of such peril, they cametogether, and retired across the bridge.
Then rose the cry, "_Todo es perdido!_ All is lost! The bridge cannot beraised!" And along the causeway from mouth to mouth the warning flew, ofsuch dolorous effect as not merely to unman all who heard it, but totake from them the instincts to which life so painfully intrusts itselfwhen there is no judgment left. Those defending themselves quittedfighting, and turned to fly; except the gold, which they clutched allthe closer, many flung away everything that impeded them, even thearquebuses, so precious in Cortes' eyes; guns dragged safely so far wererolled into the lake or left on the road; the horses caught thecontagion, and, becoming unmanageable, ran madly upon the footmen.
When the cry, outflying the fugitives with whom it began, reached thethousands at the second canal, it had somewhere borrowed a phrase yetmore demoralizing. "The bridge cannot be raised! All is lost! _Saveyourselves, save yourselves!_" Such was its form there. And about thattime, as ill-fortune ordered, the infidels had gathered around the fatalplace until, by their yells and missiles there seemed to be myriads ofthem. Along the causeway their canoes lay wedged in, like a great raft;and bolder grown, they flung themselves bodily on the unfortunates, andstrove to carry them off alive. Enough if they dragged them down theslope,--innumerable hands were ready at the water's edge to take themspeedily beyond rescue. Momentarily, also, the yell of the fighting menof Tenochtitlan, surging from the city under the 'tzin, drew nearer andnearer, driving the rear upon the front, already on the verge of thecanal with barely room for defense against Hualpa and his people. Allthat held the sufferers passive, all that gave them endurance, thevirtue rarer and greater than patience, was the hope of the coming ofMagarino; and the announcement, at last, that the bridge could not beraised, was as the voice of doom over their heads. Instantly, they sawdeath behind them, and life nowhere but forward,--so always with panic.An impulse moved them,--they rushed on, they pushed each with the mightof despair. "Save yourselves, save yourselves!" they screamed, at thesame time no one thought of any but himself.
To make the scene clear to the reader, he should remember that thecauseway was but eight yards across its superior slope; while the canal,about as wide, and crossing at right angles, was on both sides walledwith dressed masonry to the height, probably, of twelve feet, with,water at least deep enough to drown a horse. Ordinarily, the peril ofthe passage would have been scorned by a stout swimmer; but, alas! suchwere not all who must make the attempt now.
The first victims of the movement I have described were those in thefront fighting Hualpa. No time for preparation: with shields on theirarms, if footmen, on their horses, if riders,--a struggle on the verge,a cry for pity, a despairing shriek, and into the yawning chasm theywere plunged; nor had the water time to close above their heads beforeas many others were dashed in upon them.
Cortes, on the further side, could only hear what took place in thecanal, for the darkness hid it from view; yet he knew that at his feetwas a struggle for life impossible to be imagined except as somethingthat might happen in the heart of the vortex left by a ship founderingat sea. The screams, groans, prayers, and execrations of men; theneighing, snorting, and plunging of horses; the bubbling, hissing, andplashing of water; the writhing and fighting,--a wretch a moment risen,in a moment gone, his death-cry half uttered; the rolling of the mass,or rather its impulsion onward, which, horrible to think, might be thefast filling up of the passage; now and then a piteous appeal for helpunder the wall, reached at last (and by what mighty exertion!) only tomock the hopes of the swimmers,--all this Cortes heard, and more. Noneed of light to make the scene visible; no need to see the dying andthe drowning, or the last look of eyes fixed upon him as they went down,a look as likely to be a curse as a prayer! If never before or neveragain, his courage failed him then; and turning his horse he fled theplace, shouting as he went,--
"_Todo es perdido!_ all is lost! S
ave yourselves, save yourselves!"
And in his absence the horror continued,--continued until the canal fromside to side was filled with the bodies of men and horses, blent witharms and ensigns, baggage, and guns, and gun-carriages, and munitions inboxes and carts,--the rich plunder of the empire, royal fifth as well ashumbler dividend,--and all the paraphernalia of armies, infidel andChristian; filled, until most of those who escaped clambered over thewarm and writhing heap of what had so lately been friends and comrades.And the gods of the heathen were not forgotten by their children; forsufferers there were who, snatching at hands offered in help, weredragged into canoes, and never heard of more. Tears and prayers and thesaving grace of the Holy Mother and Son for them! Better death in thecanal, however dreadful, than death in the temples,--for the soul'srest, better!
Slowly along the causeway, meantime, Alvarado toiled with therear-guard. Very early he had given up Leon and Mesa, and all with them,as lost. And to say truth, little time had he to think of them; for now,indeed, he found the duties of lover and soldier difficult as they hadbeen pleasant. Gay of spirit, boastful but not less generous and brave,skilful and reckless, he was of the kind to attract and dazzle theadventurers with whom he had cast his lot; and now they were ready to dohis bidding, and equally ready to share his fate, life or death. Of themhe constituted a body-guard for Nenetzin. Rough riders were they, yetaround her they formed, more careful of her than themselves; againstthem rattled and rang the stones and arrows; against them dashed theinfidels landed from their canoes; sometimes a cry announced a hurt,sometimes a fall announced a death; but never hand of foe or flyingmissile reached the curtained carriage in which rode the littleprincess.
Nor can it be said that Alvarado, so careful as lover, failed his dutyas captain. Sometimes at the rear, facing the 'tzin; sometimes, with alaugh or a kiss of the hand, by the palanquin; and always his cry,blasphemous yet cheerful. "_Viva a Christo! Viva Santa Cruz! Santiago,Santiago!_" So from mistress and men he kept off the evil bird Fear. Thestout mare Bradamante gave him most concern; she obeyedwillingly,--indeed, seemed better when in action; yet was restless anduneasy, and tossed her head, and--unpardonable as a habit in the horseof a soldier--cried for company.
"So-a, girl!" he would say, as never doubting that she understood him."What seest thou that I do not? or is it what thou hearest? Fear! If onedid but say to me that thou wert cowardly, better for him that he spokeill of my mother! But here they come again! Upon them now! Upon them,sweetheart! _Viva a Christo! Viva la Santa Cruz!_"
And so, fighting, he crossed the bridge; and still all went well withhim. Out of the way he chased the foe; on the flanks they were beatenoff; only at the rear were they troublesome, for there the 'tzin led thepursuit.
Finally, the rear-guard closed upon the central division, which, havingreached the second canal, stood, in what condition we have seen, waitingfor Magarino. Then Alvarado hurried to the palanquin; and while there,now checking Bradamante, whose uneasiness seemed to increase as theyadvanced, now cheering Nenetzin, he heard the fatal cry proclaiming theloss of the bridge. On his lips the jest faded, in his heart the bloodstood still. A hundred voices took up the cry, and there was hurry andalarm around him, and he felt the first pressure of the impulsivemovement forward. The warning was not lost:--
"_Ola_, my friends!" he said, at once aroused, "Hell's door of brasshath been opened, and the devils are loose! Keep we together--"
As he spoke the pressure strengthened, and the crowd yelled "_Todo esperdido!_ Save yourselves!"
Up went his visor, out rang his voice in fierce appeal,--
"Together let us bide, gentlemen. We are Spaniards, and in our saddles,with swords and shields. The foe are the dogs who have bayed us so totheir cost for days and weeks. On the right and left, as ye are!Remember, the woman we have here is a Christian; she hath broken thebread and drunken the wine; her God is our God; and if we abandon her,may he abandon us!"
Not a rider left his place. The division went to pieces, and rushedforward, sweeping all before it except the palanquin; as a boat in acurrent, that floated on,--fierce the current, yet placid the motion ofthe boat. And nestled warm within, Nenetzin heard the tumult assomething terrible afar off.
And all the time Hualpa kept the fight by the canal. Hours passed. Thedead covered the slopes of the causeway; on the top they lay in heaps;the canal choked with them; still the stream of enemies poured onroaring and fighting. Over the horrible bridge he saw some Tlascalanscarry two women,--neither of them Nenetzin. Another woman came up andcrossed, but she had sword and shield, and used them, shrilly shoutingthe war-cries of the strangers. Out towards the land the battle followedthe fugitives,--beyond the third canal even,--and everywhere victory!Surely, the Aztecan gods had vindicated themselves; and for the 'tzinthere was glory immeasurable. But where was Nenetzin? where the hated_Tonatiah_? Why came they not? In the intervals of the slaughter hebegan to be shaken by visions of the laughing lips and dimpled cheeks ofthe loved face out in the rain crushed by a hoof or a wheel. At othertimes, when the awful chorus of the struggle swelled loudest, he fanciedhe heard her voice in agony of fear and pain. Almost he regretted nothaving sought her, instead of waiting as he had.
Near morning from the causeway toward the city he heard twocries,--"_Al-a-lala!_" one, "_Viva a Christo!_" the other. Friend mostloved, foe most hated, woman most adored! How good the gods were to sendthem! His spirit rose, all its strength returned.
Of his warriors, six were with the slain; the others he called together,and said,--
"The 'tzin comes, and the _Tonatiah_. Now, O my friends, I claim yourservice. But forget not, I charge you, forget not her of whom I spoke.Harm her not. Be ready to follow me."
He waited until the guardians of the palanquin were close by,--until heheard their horses' tread; then he shouted, "Now, O my countrymen! Bethe 'tzin's cry our cry! Follow me. _Al-a-lala, al-a-lala!_"
The rough riders faced the attack, thinking it a repetition of othersthey had lightly turned aside on the way; but when their weapons glancedfrom iron-faced shields, and they recognized the thrust of steel; whentheir horses shrunk from the contact or staggered with mortal hurts, andsome of them fell down dying, then they gave way to a torrent ofexclamations so seasoned with holy names that they could be as welltaken for prayers as curses. Surprised, dismayed, retreating,--withscarce room for defence and none for attack, still they struggled tomaintain themselves. Sharp the clangor of axes on shields, merciless thethrust of the blades,--cry answered cry. Death to the horse, if he butreared; to the rider death, if his horse but stumbled. Nevertheless,step by step the patient Indian lover approached the palanquin. Thenthat which had been as a living wall around the girl was broken. One ofher slaves fell down, struck by a stone. Her scream, though shrill withsudden fear, was faint amid the discordances of storm and fight; yet twoof the combatants heard it, and rushed to the rescue. And now Hualpa'shand was on the fallen carriage--happy moment! "_Viva a Christo!Santiago, Santiago!_" thundered Alvarado. The exultant infidel lookedup: right over him, hiding the leaden sky,--a dark impendingdanger,--reared Bradamante. He thrust quickly, and the blade on thelance was true; with a cry, in its excess of agony almost human, themare reared, fell back, and died. As she fell, one foot, heavy with itssilver shoe, struck him to the ground; and would that were all!
"_Ola_, comrades!" cried Alvarado, upon his feet again, to some horsemendismounted like himself. "Look! the girl is dying! Help me! as ye hopefor life, stay and help me!"
They laid hold of the mare, and rolled her away. The morning lightrested upon the place feebly, as if afraid of its own revelations. Onthe causeway, in the lake, in the canal, were many horrors to melt aheart of stone; one fixed Alvarado's gaze,--
"Dead! she is dead!" he said, falling upon his knees, and covering hiseyes with his hands, "O mother of Christ! What have I done that thisshould befall me?"
Under the palanquin,--its roof of aromatic cedar, thin as tortoiseshell, and its frame of bamboo, light as the cane of
the maize, all aheap of fragments now,--under the wreck lay Nenetzin. About her head theblue curtains of the carriage were wrapped in accidental folds, makingthe pallor of the face more pallid; the lips so given to laughter weredark with flowing blood; and the eyes had looked their love the lasttime; one little hand rested palm upward upon the head of a deadwarrior, and in it shone the iron cross of Christ. Bradamante hadcrushed her to death! And this, the crowning horror of the melancholynight, was what the good mare saw on the way that her master didnot,--so the master ever after believed.
The pain of grief was new to the good captain; while yet it so overcamehim, a man laid a hand roughly on his shoulder, and said,--
"Look thou, Senor! She is in Paradise, while of those who, at thy call,stayed to help thee save her but seven are left. If not thyself, up andhelp us!"
The justice of the rude appeal aroused him, and he retook his sword andshield, and joined in the fight,--eight against the many. About themclosed the lancers; facing whom one by one the brave men died, untilonly Alvarado remained. Over the clashing of arms then rang the 'tzin'svoice,--
"It is the _Tonatiah_! Take him, O my children, but harm him not; hislife belongs to the gods!"
Fortunately for Alvarado a swell of Christian war-cries and the beat ofgalloping horses came, about the same time, from the further side of thecanal to distract the attention of his foemen. Immediately Cortesappeared, with Sandoval, Morla, Avila, and others,--brave gentlemen comeback from the land, which they had safely gained, to save whom theymight of the rear-guard. At the dread passage all of them drew reinexcept Morla; down the slope of the dyke he rode, and spurring into thelake, through the canoes and floating _debris_, he headed to save hisfriend. Useless the gallantry! The assault upon Alvarado hadceased,--with what purpose he knew. Never should they take him alive!Hualpa's lance, of great length, was lying at his feet. Suddenly,casting away his sword and shield, he snatched up his enemy's weapon,broke the ring that girdled him, ran to the edge of the canal, andvaulted in air. Loud the cry of the Christians, louder that of theinfidels! An instant he seemed to halt in his flight; an instant more,and his famous feat was performed,--the chasm was cleared, and he stoodamongst his people saved.
Alas for Morla! An infidel sprang down the dike, and by running andleaping from canoe to canoe overtook him while in the lake.
"Sword and shield, Senor Francisco! Sword and shield! Look! The foe isupon thee!"
So he was warned; but quick the action. First, a blow with a Christianaxe: down sank the horse; then a blow upon the helmet, and the wave thatswallowed the steed received the rider also.
"_Al-a-lala!_" shouted the victor.
"The 'tzin, the 'tzin!" answered his people; and forward they sprang,over the canoes, over the bridge of the dead,--forward to get at theirhated enemies again.
"Welcome art thou!" said Cortes to Alvarado. "Welcome as from the grave,whither Morla--God rest his soul!--hath gone. Where is Leon?"
"With Morla," answered the captain.
"And Mesa?"
"Nay, Senor Hernan, if thou stayest here for any of the rear-guard, knowthat I am the last of them."
"_Bastante!_ Hear ye, gentlemen?" said Cortes. "Our duty is done. Let usto the land again. Here is my foot, here my hand: mount, captain, andquickly!"
Alvarado took the seat offered behind Cortes, and the party set out inretreat again. Closely, across the third canal, along the causeway tothe village of Popotla, the 'tzin kept the pursuit. From the village,and from Tlacopan the city, he drove the bleeding and bewilderedfugitives. At last they took possession of a temple, from which, asfrom a fortress, they successfully defended themselves. Then the 'tzingave over, and returned to the capital.
And his return was as the savior of his country,--the victoriouscompanies behind him, the great flotillas on his right and left, and theclouds overhead rent by the sounding of conchs and tambours and thesinging and shouting of the proud and happy people.
Fast throbbed his heart, for now he knew, if the crown were not indeedhis, its prestige and power were; and amidst fast-coming schemes for therestoration of the empire, he thought of the noble Tula, and then,--hehalted suddenly:--
"Where is the lord Hualpa?" he asked.
"At the second canal," answered a cacique.
"And he is--"
"Dead!"
The proud head drooped, and the hero forgot his greatness and hisdreams; he was the loving friend again, and as such, sorrowing andsilent, repassed the second canal, and stood upon the causeway beyond.And the people, with quick understanding of what he sought, made way forhim. Over the wrecks of the battle,--sword and shield, helm andbreastplate, men and horses,--he walked to where the lover and hisbeloved lay.
At sight of her face, more childlike and beautiful than ever, memorybrought to him the sad look, the low voice, and the last words ofHualpa,--"If I come not with the rising sun to-morrow, Nenetzin can tellyou my story,"--such were the words. The iron cross was yet in her hand,and the hand yet rested on the head of a warrior lying near. The 'tzinstooped, and turned the dead man over, and lo! the lord Hualpa. From oneto the other the princely mourner looked; a mist, not of the lake or thecloud, rose and hid them from his view; he turned away,--_she had toldhim all the story_.
In a canoe, side by side, the two victims were borne to the city, neverto be separated. At Chapultepec they were laid in the same tomb; so thatone day the dust of the hunter, with that of kings, may feed the grassand color the flowers of the royal hill.
HE HAD FOUND HIS FORTUNE!
* * * * *
Here the chronicles of the learned Don Fernando abruptly terminate. Forthe satisfaction of the reader, a professional story-teller would nodoubt have devoted several pages to the careers of some of thecharacters whom he leaves surviving the catastrophe. The translator isnot disposed to think his author less courteous than literatorsgenerally; on the contrary, the books abound with evidences of thetender regard he had for those who might chance to occupy themselveswith his pages; consequently, there must have been a reason for theapparent neglect in question.
If the worthy gentleman were alive, and the objection made to him inperson, he would most likely have replied: "Gentle critic, what you takefor neglect was but a compliment to your intelligence. The characterswith which I dealt were for the most part furnished me by history. Thefew of my own creation were exclusively heathen, and of them, except thelord Maxtla and Xoli, the Chalcan, disposition is made in one part oranother of the story. The two survivors named, it is to be supposed,were submerged in the ruin that fell upon the country after the conquestwas finally completed. The other personages being real, for perfectsatisfaction as to them, permit me, with the profoundest respect, torefer you to your histories again."
The translator has nothing to add to the explanation except briefmention that the king Cuitlahua's reign lasted but two months in all.The small-pox, which desolated the city and valley, and contributed,more than any other cause, to the ultimate overthrow of the empire, senthim to the tombs of Chapultepec. Guatamozin then took the vacant throne,and as king exemplified still further the qualities which had made himalready the idol of his people and the hero of his race. Some time also,but whether before or after his coronation we are not told, he marriedthe noble Tula,--an event which will leave the readers of the excellentDon Fernando in doubt whether Mualox, the paba, was not more prophetthan monomaniac.
FOOTNOTES:
[53] Bernal Diaz, Hist. de la Conq.
Transcriber's Notes
There were a number of issues in the original text, including obviousprinter's errors, or those due to the condition of the text itself,especially on the margins.
Where the issue is very clear, they have been corrected here. Manyhyphenation characters on the right margin are illegible, and thosewords have been joined here--unless the hyphen itself appears in thesame word elsewhere in the text.
In general, punctuation errors, especially those involving single ordouble quot
ation marks, were quite frequent, and in the interest ofkeeping the narrative flowing, they have been corrected. The useof the single quotation as a abbreviating mark in proper names (e.g."Huitzil'")seems to have confused the printer more than once whenother punctuation directly follows, on pp. 135, 509, and 525.
There were several questionable spelling issues (e.g., "beseiged","rodoubted") which were retained. The name "Cortez" (vs. "Cortes")appears only in the table of contents. "'Hualpilli" appears once as"'Huapill".
Some compound words appear both with and without hyphens. Where thehyphenation occurs at a line break, the hyphen is retained (or removed)if there are other mid-line examples.
The following list contains the details of corrections made to the textor spelling variants to be noted.
p. 13 the moment of reply wa[s] allowed to pass Added.
p. 28 his canoe wil[l] be full of blessings Added.
p. 35 Look well to this, O king[.] Added. May have been '!'.
p. 40 and the time is very quiet[.] Added.
p. 54 [F]ail me not, my children. Added.
p. 91 I promised I[tz/zt]lil' Reversed.
p. 109 I am told you wish to enter my service[.] Added.
p. 143 [t]he glinting of the jewels Added.
p. 157 Temple over many chambers.["] Removed.
p. 178 he is not a trai[tor.]" Added.
p. 202 nor on what grounds[.] Added.
p. 236 ["/']Come, the victim is ready!["/'] Should have been single quotes.
p. 241 "That is Diaz's [massage]." Sic.
p. 290 Alvarado continued[./,] "which I could Added.
p. 302 in trust for the god.['] Added.
p. 311 and all things else yet undiscovered.["] Added.
p. 334 Go with them, I pray you.['/"] Corrected.
p. 341 The hours were long[.] Added.
p. 342 What wonder that I fled?["] Added.
p. 402 To the Mother the praise!['"] Corrected.
p. 406 has been toilsome and dreadful[.] Ah me, I shudder at the thought!["] Added.
"Have you never been elsewhere[?]" Added.
have they been denied you, poor girl?["] Added.
p. 488 Yonder is the temple we seek[.] Added.
p. 499 "_Al templo! Adelante, adelante!_--forward!["] Added.
p. 500 to the palace, the palace!["] Added.
p. 504 Then the [']tzin, recalled to himself Added.
p. 512 The footnote reference for #49 was missing. Added.
p. 513 and all the saints!["] Added.
p. 537 If he fail--if he fail--["] Added.
p. 543 and gave himself to sombre thought[.] Added.
p. 552 What didst thou?["] Added.
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