Montezuma''s Daughter

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  THE SIEGE OF THE CITY OF PINES

  The battle was already lost. From a thousand feet above us swelled theshouts of victory. The battle was lost, and yet I must fight on. Asswiftly as I could I withdrew those who were left to me to a certainangle in the path, where a score of desperate men might, for a while,hold back the advance of an army. Here I called for some to stand atmy side, and many answered to my call. Out of them I chose fifty menor more, bidding the rest run hard for the City of Pines, there to warnthose who were left in garrison that the hour of danger was uponthem, and, should I fall, to conjure Otomie my wife to make the bestresistance in her power, till, if it were possible, she could wringfrom the Spaniards a promise of safety for herself, her child, and herpeople. Meanwhile I would hold the pass so that time might be given toshut the gates and man the walls. With the main body of those who wereleft to me I sent back my son, though he prayed hard to be allowed tostay with me. But, seeing nothing before me except death, I refused him.

  Presently all were gone, and fearing a snare the Spaniards came slowlyand cautiously round the angle of the rock, and seeing so few menmustered to meet them halted, for now they were certain that we had seta trap for them, since they did not think it possible that such a littleband would venture to oppose their array. Here the ground lay so thatonly a few of them could come against us at one time, nor could theybring their heavy pieces to bear on us, and even their arquebusseshelped them but little. Also the roughness of the road forced them todismount from their horses, so that if they would attack at all, itmust be on foot. This in the end they chose to do. Many fell upon eitherside, though I myself received no wound, but in the end they drove usback. Inch by inch they drove us back, or rather those who were leftof us, at the point of their long lances, till at length they forced usinto the mouth of the pass, that is some five furlongs distant from whatwas once the wall of the City of Pines.

  To fight further was of no avail, here we must choose between death andflight, and as may be guessed, for wives' and children's sake if not forour own, we chose to fly. Across the plain we fled like deer, and afterus came the Spaniards and their allies like hounds. Happily the groundwas rough with stones so that their horses could not gallop freely, andthus it happened that some of us, perhaps twenty, gained the gates insafety. Of my army not more than five hundred in all lived to enter themagain, and perchance there were as many left within the city.

  The heavy gates swung to, and scarcely were they barred with the massivebeams of oak, when the foremost of the Spaniards rode up to them. My bowwas still in my hand and there was one arrow left in my quiver. I set iton the string, and drawing the bow with my full strength, I loosedthe shaft through the bars of the gate at a young and gallant lookingcavalier who rode the first of all. It struck him truly between thejoint of his helm and neck piece, and stretching his arms out wide hefell backward over the crupper of his horse, to move no more. Then theywithdrew, but presently one of their number came forward bearing aflag of truce. He was a knightly looking man, clad in rich armour, andwatching him, it seemed to me that there was something in his bearing,and in the careless grace with which he sat his horse, that was familiarto me. Reining up in front of the gates he raised his visor and began tospeak.

  I knew him at once; before me was de Garcia, my ancient enemy, of whom Ihad neither heard nor seen anything for hard upon twelve years. Time hadtouched him indeed, which was scarcely to be wondered at, for now he wasa man of sixty or more. His peaked chestnut-coloured beard was streakedwith grey, his cheeks were hollow, and at that distance his lips seemedlike two thin red lines, but the eyes were as they had always been,bright and piercing, and the same cold smile played about his mouth.Without a doubt it was de Garcia, who now, as at every crisis of mylife, appeared to shape my fortunes to some evil end, and I felt as Ilooked upon him that the last and greatest struggle between us was athand, and that before many days were sped, the ancient and accumulatedhate of one or of both of us would be buried for ever in the silence ofdeath. How ill had fate dealt with me, now as always. But a few minutesbefore, when I set that arrow on the string, I had wavered for a moment,doubting whether to loose it at the young cavalier who lay dead, or atthe knight who rode next to him; and see! I had slain one with whom Ihad no quarrel and left my enemy unharmed.

  'Ho there!' cried de Garcia in Spanish. 'I desire to speak with theleader of the rebel Otomie on behalf of the Captain Bernal Diaz, whocommands this army.'

  Now I mounted on the wall by means of a ladder which was at hand, andanswered, 'Speak on, I am the man you seek.'

  'You know Spanish well, friend,' said de Garcia, starting and looking atme keenly beneath his bent brows. 'Say now, where did you learn it? Andwhat is your name and lineage?'

  'I learned it, Juan de Garcia, from a certain Donna Luisa, whom you knewin your days of youth. And my name is Thomas Wingfield.'

  Now de Garcia reeled in his saddle and swore a great oath.

  'Mother of God!' he said, 'years ago I was told that you had taken upyour abode among some savage tribe, but since then I have been far,to Spain and back indeed, and I deemed that you were dead, ThomasWingfield. My luck is good in truth, for it has been one of the greatsorrows of my life that you have so often escaped me, renegade. Be surethat this time there shall be no escape.'

  'I know well that there will be no escape for one or other of us, Juande Garcia,' I answered. 'Now we play the last round of the game, but donot boast, for God alone knows to whom the victory shall be given. Youhave prospered long, but a day may be at hand when your prosperity shallcease with your breath. To your errand, Juan de Garcia.'

  For a moment he sat silent, pulling at his pointed beard, and watchinghim I thought that I could see the shadow of a half-forgotten fear creepinto his eyes. If so, it was soon gone, for lifting his head, he spokeboldly and clearly.

  'This is my message to you, Thomas Wingfield, and to such of the Otomiedogs with whom you herd as we have left alive to-day. The Captain BernalDiaz offers you terms on behalf of his Excellency the viceroy.'

  'What are his terms?' I asked.

  'Merciful enough to such pestilent rebels and heathens,' he answeredsneering. 'Surrender your city without condition, and the viceroy, inhis clemency, will accept the surrender. Nevertheless, lest you shouldsay afterwards that faith has been broken with you, be it known toyou, that you shall not go unpunished for your many crimes. This is thepunishment that shall be inflicted on you. All those who had part orparcel in the devilish murder of that holy saint Father Pedro, shall beburned at the stake, and the eyes of all those who beheld it shall beput out. Such of the leaders of the Otomie as the judges may selectshall be hanged publicly, among them yourself, Cousin Wingfield, andmore particularly the woman Otomie, daughter of Montezuma the late king.For the rest, the dwellers in the City of Pines must surrender theirwealth into the treasury of the viceroy, and they themselves, men, womenand children, shall be led from the city and be distributed according tothe viceroy's pleasure upon the estates of such of the Spanish settlersas he may select, there to learn the useful arts of husbandry andmining. These are the conditions of surrender, and I am commanded tosay that an hour is given you in which to decide whether you accept orreject them.'

  'And if we reject them?'

  'Then the Captain Bernal Diaz has orders to sack and destroy this city,and having given it over for twelve hours to the mercy of the Tlascalansand other faithful Indian allies, to collect those who may be leftliving within it, and bring them to the city of Mexico, there to be soldas slaves.'

  'Good,' I said; 'you shall have your answer in an hour.' Now, leavingthe gate guarded, I hurried to the palace, sending messengers as I wentto summon such of the council of the city as remained alive. At the doorof the palace I met Otomie, who greeted me fondly, for after hearing ofour disaster she had hardly looked to see me again.

  'Come with me to the Hall of Assembly,' I said; 'there I will speak toyou.'

  We went to the hall, wher
e the members of the council were alreadygathering. So soon as the most of them were assembled, there were buteight in all, I repeated to them the words of de Garcia without comment.Then Otomie spoke, as being the first in rank she had a right to do.Twice before I had heard her address the people of the Otomie upon thesequestions of defence against the Spaniards. The first time, it may beremembered, was when we came as envoys from Cuitlahua, Montezuma herfather's successor, to pray the aid of the children of the mountainagainst Cortes and the Teules. The second time was when, some fourteenyears ago, we had returned to the City of Pines as fugitives after thefall of Tenoctitlan, and the populace, moved to fury by the destructionof nearly twenty thousand of their soldiers, would have delivered us asa peace offering into the hands of the Spaniards.

  On each of these occasions Otomie had triumphed by her eloquence, by thegreatness of her name and the majesty of her presence. Now things werefar otherwise, and even had she not scorned to use them, such arts wouldhave availed us nothing in this extremity. Now her great name was buta shadow, one of many waning shadows cast by an empire whose gloryhad gone for ever; now she used no passionate appeal to the pride andtraditions of a doomed race, now she was no longer young and the firstsplendour of her womanhood had departed from her. And yet, as with herson and mine at her side, she rose to address those seven councillors,who, haggard with fear and hopeless in the grasp of fate, crouched insilence before her, their faces buried in their hands, I thought thatOtomie had never seemed more beautiful, and that her words, simple asthey were, had never been more eloquent.

  'Friends,' she said, 'you know the disaster that has overtaken us. Myhusband has given you the message of the Teules. Our case is desperate.We have but a thousand men at most to defend this city, the home of ourforefathers, and we alone of all the peoples of Anahuac still dare tostand in arms against the white men. Years ago I said to you, Choosebetween death with honour and life with shame! To-day again I say toyou, Choose! For me and mine there is no choice left, since whatever youdecide, death must be our portion. But with you it is otherwise. Willyou die fighting, or will you and your children serve your remainingyears as slaves?'

  For a while the seven consulted together, then their spokesman answered.

  'Otomie, and you, Teule, we have followed your counsels for many yearsand they have brought us but little luck. We do not blame you, for thegods of Anahuac have deserted us as we have deserted them, and the godsalone stand between men and their evil destiny. Whatever misfortunes wemay have borne, you have shared in them, and so it is now at the end.Nor will we go back upon our words in this the last hour of the peopleof the Otomie. We have chosen; we have lived free with you, and stillfree, we will die with you. For like you we hold that it is better forus and ours to perish as free men than to drag out our days beneath theyoke of the Teule.'

  'It is well,' said Otomie; 'now nothing remains for us except to seek adeath so glorious that it shall be sung of in after days. Husband, youhave heard the answer of the council. Let the Spaniards hear it also.'

  So I went back to the wall, a white flag in my hand, and presently anenvoy advanced from the Spanish camp to speak with me--not de Garcia,but another. I told him in few words that those who remained alive ofthe people of the Otomie would die beneath the ruins of their city likethe children of Tenoctitlan before them, but that while they had a spearto throw and an arm to throw it, they would never yield to the tendermercies of the Spaniard.

  The envoy returned to the camp, and within an hour the attack began.Bringing up their pieces of ordnance, the Spaniards set them withinlittle more than an hundred paces of the gates, and began to batterus with iron shot at their leisure, for our spears and arrows couldscarcely harm them at such a distance. Still we were not idle, forseeing that the wooden gates must soon be down, we demolished houses oneither side of them and filled up the roadway with stones and rubbish.At the rear of the heap thus formed I caused a great trench to be dug,which could not be passed by horsemen and ordnance till it was filledin again. All along the main street leading to the great square of theteocalli I threw up other barricades, protected in the front and rear bydykes cut through the roadway, and in case the Spaniards should try toturn our flank and force a passage through the narrow and tortuous lanesto the right and left, I also barricaded the four entrances to the greatsquare or market place.

  Till nightfall the Spaniards bombarded the shattered remains of thegates and the earthworks behind them, doing no great damage beyond thekilling of about a score of people by cannon shot and arquebuss balls.But they attempted no assault that day. At length the darkness fell andtheir fire ceased, but not so our labours. Most of the men must guardthe gates and the weak spots in the walls, and therefore the building ofthe barricades was left chiefly to the women, working under my commandand that of my captains. Otomie herself took a share in the toil, anexample that was followed by every lady and indeed by every woman inthe city, and there were many of them, for the women outnumbered the menamong the Otomie, and moreover not a few of them had been made widows onthat same day.

  It was a strange sight to see them in the glare of hundreds of torchessplit from the resin pine that gave its name to the city, as all nightlong they moved to and fro in lines, each of them staggering beneath theweight of a basket of earth or a heavy stone, or dug with wooden spadesat the hard soil, or laboured at the pulling down of houses. They nevercomplained, but worked on sullenly and despairingly; no groan or tearbroke from them, no, not even from those whose husbands and sons hadbeen hurled that morning from the precipices of the pass. They knew thatresistance would be useless and that their doom was at hand, but no cryarose among them of surrender to the Spaniards. Those of them who spokeof the matter at all said with Otomie, that it was better to die freethan to live as slaves, but the most did not speak; the old and theyoung, mother, wife, widow, and maid, they laboured in silence and thechildren laboured at their sides.

  Looking at them it came into my mind that these silent patient womenwere inspired by some common and desperate purpose, that all knew of,but which none of them chose to tell.

  'Will you work so hard for your masters the Teules?' cried a man inbitter mockery, as a file of them toiled past beneath their loads ofstone.

  'Fool!' answered their leader, a young and lovely lady of rank; 'do thedead labour?'

  'Nay,' said this ill jester, 'but such as you are too fair for theTeules to kill, and your years of slavery will be many. Say, how shallyou escape them?'

  'Fool!' answered the lady again, 'does fire die from lack of fuel only,and must every man live till age takes him? We shall escape them thus,'and casting down the torch she carried, she trod it into the earth withher sandal, and went on with her load. Then I was sure that they hadsome purpose, though I did not guess how desperate it was, and Otomiewould tell me nothing of this woman's secret.

  'Otomie,' I said to her that night, when we met by chance, 'I have illnews for you.'

  'It must be bad indeed, husband, to be so named in such an hour,' sheanswered.

  'De Garcia is among our foes.'

  'I knew it, husband.'

  'How did you know it?'

  'By the hate written in your eyes,' she answered.

  'It seems that his hour of triumph is at hand,' I said.

  'Nay, beloved, not HIS but YOURS. You shall triumph over de Garcia, butvictory will cost you dear. I know it in my heart; ask me not how orwhy. See, the Queen puts on her crown,' and she pointed to the volcanXaca, whose snows grew rosy with the dawn, 'and you must go to the gate,for the Spaniards will soon be stirring.'

  As Otomie spoke I heard a trumpet blare without the walls. Hurrying tothe gates by the first light of day, I could see that the Spaniards weremustering their forces for attack. They did not come at once, however,but delayed till the sun was well up. Then they began to pour a furiousfire upon our defences, that reduced the shattered beams of the gatesto powder, and even shook down the crest of the earthwork beyond them.Suddenly the firing ceased and again a t
rumpet called. Now they chargedus in column, a thousand or more Tlascalans leading the van, followed bythe Spanish force. In two minutes I, who awaited them beyond it togetherwith some three hundred warriors of the Otomie, saw their heads appearover the crest of the earthwork, and the fight began. Thrice we drovethem back with our spears and arrows, but at the fourth charge the waveof men swept over our defence, and poured into the dry ditch beyond.

  Now we were forced to fly to the next earthwork, for we could not hopeto fight so many in the open street, whither, so soon as a passage hadbeen made for their horse and ordnance, the enemy followed us. Here thefight was renewed, and this barricade being very strong, we held itfor hard upon two hours with much loss to ourselves and to the Spanishforce. Again we retreated and again we were assailed, and so thestruggle went on throughout the live-long day. Every hour our numbersgrew fewer and our arms fainter, but still we fought on desperately. Atthe two last barricades, hundreds of the women of the Otomie fought bythe sides of their husbands and their brothers.

  The last earthwork was captured by the Spaniards just as the sun sank,and under the shadow of approaching darkness those of us that remainedalive fled to the refuge which we had prepared upon the teocalli, norwas there any further fighting during that night.