CHAPTER XV.
The horsemen pursued along the dike, spearing, or tumbling into thewater, the few who had the heart to resist; and so great was, or seemed,the terror of the barbarians, that the victors penetrated even withinthe limits of the island, until the turrets of houses, from which theywere separated only by the lateral canals, darkened them with theirshadows. Upon these were clustered many pagans, who shot at them botharrows and darts, but with so little energy, that it seemed as ifdespondence or fatuity had robbed them of their usual vigour. Hence, theexcited cavaliers gave them but little attention, not doubting that theywould be soon dislodged by the infantry. They were even regardless ofcircumstances still more menacing; and if a lethargy beset the infidelthat day, it is equally certain that a species of distractionoverwhelmed the brains of the Spaniards. It seemed as if the greatobject of their ambition depended more upon their following thefugitives to the temple-square than upon any other feat; and to thisthey encouraged one another with vivas and invocations to the saints.They could already behold the huge bulk of the pyramid, rising up at thedistance of a mile, as if it shut up the street; and its terraced sides,thronged with multitudes of men, seemed to prove to them, that thefrighted Mexicans were running to their gods for protection. It is true,they perceived vast bodies of infidels blocking up the avenue afar, asif to dispute their passage beyond the canalled portion of the island;but they regarded them with scorn.
They rushed onwards, occasionally arrested by some flying group, butonly for a moment.
There was a place, not far within the limits of the island, where theyfound the causeway, for the space of at least sixty paces, so delved andpared away on either side, that it scarce afforded a passage for twohorsemen abreast. The device was of recent execution, for they beheldthe mattocks of labourers still sticking in the earth, as if that momentabandoned. This circumstance, so strange, so novel, and so ominous, itmight be supposed, would have aroused them to suspicion. The passage, asit was, so contracted, broken, and rugged, looked prodigiously like theAl-Sirat, or bridge to paradise of the Mussulmans,--that arch, narrow asthe thread of a famished spider, over which it is so much easier to beprecipitated than to pass with safety. Yet grim and threatening as itwas, there was but one among the cavaliers who raised a voice ofwarning. As the Captain-General, without a moment's hesitation, pushedhis horse forward, to lead the way, and without a single expression ofsurprise, the ancient hidalgo, who had twice before sounded a note ofalarm, now exclaimed,--
"For the love of heaven, pause, senor! This is a trap that will destroyus."
"Art thou afraid, Alderete?" cried Cortes, looking back to him, grimly."This is no place for a King's Treasurer," (such was Alderete, the royalContador.)--"Get thee back, then, to the first ditch, and fill it up tothy liking. _This_ will be charge enough for a volunteer."
"I will fight where thou wilt, when thou wilt, and as boldly as thouwilt," said the indignant cavalier; "but here play the madman nolonger."
"I will take thy counsel,--rest where I am,--and, in an hour's time, seemyself shut out from the city by a ditch, sixty yards wide! God'sbenison upon thy long beard! and mayst thou be wiser. Forward, friends!Do you not see? the knaves are running amain to check us, and recovertheir unfinished gap! On! courage, and on! Santiago and at them!"
It was indeed as Cortes said. The infidels, who blocked up the streetsafar, were now seen running towards them, with the most terrific yells,as if to seize, before it was too late, a pass so easily maintained. Thecavaliers, animated by the words of their leader, were quite as resoluteto disappoint them, and therefore rode across as rapidly as they could.The pass was not only narrow, but tortuous and irregular; whichincreased the difficulties of surmounting it; so that the Mexicans,running with the most frantic speed, were within a bowshot, beforeCortes had spurred his steed upon the broader portion of the dike. But,as if there were something dreadful to the infidels, in the spectacle ofthe great Teuctli of the East, thus again in their stronghold, they cameto a sudden halt, and testified their valour only by yelling, and wavingtheir spears and banners.
"Courage, friends, and quick!" cried Cortes. "The dogs are beset withfear, and will not face us. Ye shall hear other yells in a moment.Haste, valiant cavaliers! haste, men of Spain! and make room for thefootmen, who are behind you."
The screams of the barbarians were loud and incessant; but in the midstof the din, as he turned to cheer his cavaliers over the broken passage,Don Hernan's ears were struck by the sound of a Christian voice, callingfrom the midst of the pagans, with thrilling vehemence,
"Beware! beware! Back to the causey! Beware!"
"Hark!" cried Alderete, who had already passed; "Our Saint calls to us!Let us return!"
"It is a trick of the fiend!" exclaimed Cortes, in evident perturbationof mind. "Come on, good friends, and let us seize vantage-ground; or thedogs will drive us, singly, into the ditches."
"Back! back!" shouted the cavaliers behind--"We are ambushed! We aresurrounded!"
Their further exclamations were lost in a tempest of discordant shrieks,coming from the front and the rear, from the heavens above, and, as theyalmost fancied, from the earth beneath. They looked northward, towardsthe pyramid,--the whole broad street was filled with barbarians, rushingtowards them with screams of anticipated triumph; they looked back tothe lake,--the causeway was swarming with armed men, who seemed to havesprung from the waters; to either side, and beheld the canals of theintersecting streets lashed into foam by myriads of paddles; while, atthe same moment, the few pagans, who had annoyed them from thehousetops, appeared transformed, by the same spell of enchantment, intohosts innumerable, with spirits all of fury and flame.
"What says the king of Castile? What says the king of Castile _now_?"roared the exulting infidels.
"Santiago! and God be with us!" exclaimed Cortes, waving his hand, witha signal for retreat, that came too late: "Cross but this devil-trapagain, and--"
Before he could conclude the vain and useless order, the drum of theemperor sounded upon the pyramid. It was an instrument of gigantic sizeand horrible note, and was held in no little fear, especially after theevents of this day, by the Spaniards, who fabled that it was coveredwith the skins of serpents. It was a fit companion for the horn ofMexitli; which latter, however, being a sacred instrument, was soundedonly on the most urgent and solemn occasions.
The first tap,--or rather peal, for the sound came from the temple morelike the roll of thunder than of a drum,--was succeeded by yells stillmore stunning; and while the cavaliers, retreating, struggled, one byone, to recross the narrow pass, they were set upon with such fury asleft them but little hope of escape.
If the rashness of Cortes had brought his friends into this fataldifficulty, he now seemed resolved to atone his fault, by securing theirretreat, even although at the expense of his life. It was in vain thatthose few cavaliers who had succeeded in reaching him, before theonslaught began, besought him to take his chance among them, andrecross, leaving them to cover his rear.
"Get ye over yourselves," he cried, with grim smiles, smiting away theheadmost of the assailants from the street: "If I have brought ye amongcoals of fire, heaven forbid I should not broil a little in mine ownperson. Quick, fools! over and hasten! over and quick! and by and by Iwill follow you."
For a moment, it seemed as if the terror of his single arm would havekept the barbarians at bay. But, waxing bolder, as they saw hisattendants dropping one by one away, they began to close upon him, andhis situation became exceedingly critical. He looked over his shoulder,and perceived that his followers threaded their way along the brokendike with less difficulty than he at first feared. The very narrownessof the passage left but little foothold for the enemy; and theirattacks, being made principally from canoes, were not such as wholly todishearten a cavalier, whose steed was as strongly defended by mail ashis own body. Encouraged by this assurance, the Captain-General stillmaintained his post, rushing ever and anon upon the closing herds, andmowing right and left with his
trusty blade, while his gallant chargerpawed down opposition with his hoofs. Thus he fought, with the madvalour that made his enemies so often deem him almost a demigod, untilsatisfied that his own attempt to cross the pass could no longerembarrass the efforts of his followers. Then, charging once more uponthe pagans, and even with greater fury than before, he wheeled roundwith unexpected rapidity, and uttering his famous cry, "Santiago and atthem!" dashed boldly at the passage.
Seven pagans sprang upon the path. They were armed like princes, and thered fillets of the House of Darts waved among their sable locks.
"The Teuctli shall have the tribute of Mexico!" shouted one, flourishinga battle-axe that seemed of weight sufficient, in his brawny arm, todash out the charger's brains at a blow. The words were not understoodby Cortes; but he recognized at once the visage of the Lord of Death.
"I have thee, pagan!" he cried, striking at the bold barbarian. The blowfailed; for one of the others, springing at the charger's head withunexampled audacity, seized him by the bridle, so that he rearedbackwards, and thus foiled the aim of his rider. The next moment, theSpanish steel fell upon the neck of the daring infidel, killing him onthe spot; yet not so instantaneously as to avert a disaster, which itseemed the object of his fury to produce. His convulsive struggles, ashe clung, dying, to the rein, drove the steed off the narrow ledge; andthus losing his foothold, the noble animal rolled over into the deepcanal, burying the Captain-General in the flood.
"The general! save the general!" shrieked the only Christian, who, inthis horrible melee, (for the battle was now universal,) beheld thecondition of Cortes, and who, although on foot, and bristling witharrows that had stuck fast in his cotton-armour, and resisted by otherweapons at every step, had yet the courage to run to the rescue. It wasGaspar Olea. His visage was yet wan, and expressive of the unusualhorror preying upon his mind; yet he rushed forward, as if he had neverknown a fear. He exalted his voice, while crying for assistance, untilit was heard far back upon the causeway; yet he reached the place of DonHernan's mischance alone. The scene was dreadful: the nobles had flungthemselves into the flood, and were dragging the stunned and stranglinghero from the steed, which lay upon its side on the rugged and shelvingedge of the dike, unable to rise, and perishing with the most fearfulstruggles; while, all the time, the elated infidels expressed theirtriumph with shouts of frantic joy.
"Courage, captain! be of good heart, senor!" exclaimed the Barba-Roxa,striking down one of the captors at a single blow: "Courage! for we havegood help nigh," he continued, attacking a second with the same success:"Courage, senor, courage!"
No Mexican helm of dried skins, and no breast-plate of copper, couldresist the machete of a man like Gaspar. Yet his first success wascaused rather by the Mexicans being so intently occupied with theircaptive, that they thought of nothing else, than by any miraculousexertion of skill and prowess. He slew two, before they dreamed ofattack, and he mortally wounded a third, ere the others could turn todrive him back. A fourth rushed upon him, before he could again lift uphis weapon, and grasping him in his arms, with the embrace of a mountainbear, leaped with him into the canal.
There were now but two left in possession of Cortes; yet his resistanceeven against these was ineffectual. His sword had dropped from his hand;a violent blow had burst his helmet, and confounded his brain; and hehad been lifted from the water, already half suffocated. Yet hestruggled as he could, and catching one of his foes by the throat, hesucceeded in overturning him into the water, and there grappled with himamong the shallows. The remaining barbarian, yelling for assistance,flung himself upon the pair; and though twenty Spaniards, headed byBernal Diaz and the hunchback, were now within half as many paces,Cortes would have perished where he lay, had not assistance arose froman unexpected quarter.
Among the vast numbers who came crowding from the city over the brokenpassage, were several who knew, by the cry of the seventh noble, thatMalintzin was in his hands; and they rushed forward, to insure hiscapture. The foremost and fleetest of these was distinguished from therest by a frame of towering height; and, had there been a Spaniard by tonotice him, would have been still more remarkable from the fact, that heuttered all his cries in good, expressive Castilian. He bore a Spanishweapon, too, and his first act, as he flung himself into the ditch whereCortes was drowning, was to strike it through the neck of the uppermostnoble. His next was to spurn the other from the breast of the general,whom he raised to his feet, murmuring in his ear,
"Be of good heart, senor! for you are saved."
What more he would have said and done can only be imagined; for, at thatmoment, the Barba-Roxa rushed out of the ditch, followed close at handby the hunchback, Bernal Diaz, and others, and seeing his commander, ashe thought, in the hands of a foeman, he lifted his good sword onceagain, and smote him over the head, crying,
"Down, infidel dog! and _viva_ for Spain and our general!"
At this moment, there rushed up a crew of fresh combatants, Spaniardsfrom the rear and infidels from the front. But before they closed uponhim entirely, the Barba-Roxa caught sight of the man he had struck down,and beheld, in his pale and quivering aspect, the features of JuanLerma.
The unhappy wretch, thus beholding the beloved youth, with his own eyes,a leaguer and helpmate of the infidel, and punished to death, as itseemed, by his hand, set up a scream wildly vehement, and broke from thegroup of Spaniards, who now surrounded Cortes, endeavouring to drag himin safety over the pass. The exile had been seen by others as well asGaspar, and many a ferocious cry of exultation burst from their lips, asthey saw him fall.
Meanwhile, Gaspar, distracted in mind, and dripping with blood, for hehad not escaped from the ditch and the fierce embrace of his fourthantagonist, without many severe wounds, endeavoured to retrace his stepsto the spot where Juan had fallen. It was occupied by infidels, whodrove him into the ditch, where his legs were grasped by a drowningMexican, who raised himself a little from the water, and displayed,between his neck and shoulder, a yawning chasm, rather than a wound,from which the blood, at every panting expiration of breath, rolled outhideously in froth and foam. It was the Lord of Death, thus struck byJuan Lerma, as he lay upon the breast of Cortes, and now perishing, butstill like a warrior of the race of America. He clambered up the body ofGaspar, for it could hardly be said, that he rose upon his feet; andseeing that he grasped a Christian soldier, he strove to utter once morea cry of battle. The blood foamed from his lips, as from his wound; andhis voice was lost in a suffocating murmur. Yet, with his last expiringstrength, he locked his arms round the neck of the Spaniard, now almostas much spent as himself, and falling backwards, and writhing togetheras they fell, they rolled off into the deep water, where the salt andtroubled flood wrapped them in a winding-sheet, already spread over thebosoms of thousands.