University of Virginia Library

10. CHAPTER X.
THE WAY THROUGH THE WALL.

AL TEMPLO, al templo! to the temple!” shouted
Cortes, as he charged the close ranks of the enemy.

“Al templo!” answered the cavaliers, plunging forward in
chivalric rivalry.

And from the column behind them rolled the hoarse echo,
with the words of command superadded, —

“Al templo! Adelante, adelante! — forward!

Not a Spaniard there but felt the inspiration of the cry;
felt himself a soldier of Christ, marching to a battle of the
gods, the true against the false; yet the way was hard,
harder than ever; so much so, indeed, that the noon came

before Cortes at last spurred into the space in front of the
old palace.

The first object to claim attention there was the temple
against which the bigotry of the Christians had been so suddenly
and shrewdly directed, — shrewdly, because in the
glory of its conquest the failure of the mantas was certain to
be forgotten. In such intervals of the fight as he could
snatch, the leader measured the pile with a view to the
attack. Standing in his stirrups, he traced out the path to
its summit, beginning at the gate of the coatapantli, then up
the broad stairs, and around the four terraces to the azoteas,
— a distance of nearly a mile, the whole crowded with
warriors, whose splendid regalia published them lords and
men of note, in arms to die, if need be, for glory and the
gods. As he looked, Sandoval rode to him.

“Turn thine eyes hither, Señor, — to the palace, the
palace!'

Cortes dropped back into his saddle, and glanced that
way.

“By the Mother of Christ, they have broken through
the wall!”

He checked his horse.

“Escobar,” he said, calmly, through his half-raised visor,
“take thou one hundred men, the last in the column, and
attack the temple. Hearest thou? Kill all thou findest!
Nay, I recollect it is a people with two heads, of which I
have but one. Bring me the other, if thou canst find him.
I mean the butcher they call the high priest. And more,
Señor Alonzo: when thou hast taken the idolatrous mountain,
burn the towers, and fear not to tumble the bloody
gods into the square. Thy battle will be glorious. On thy
side God, the Son, and Mother! Thou canst not fail.”

“And thou, Olea,” he added to another, “get thee
down the street, and hasten Mesa and his supports. Tell

them the infidels are at the door of the palace, and that the
captain Christobal hath scarce room to lift his axe. And
further, — as speed is everything now, — bid Ordas out with
the gun, and fire the manta, which hath done its work.
Spare not thy horse!”

With the last word, Cortes shut his visor, and, griping his
axe, spurred to the front, shouting, —

“To the palace, gentlemen! for love of Christ and good
comrades. Rescue, rescue!”

Down the column sped the word, — then forward resistlessly,
through the embattled gate, into the enclosure;
and none too soon, for, as Cortes had said, though at the
time witless of the truth, the Aztecs were threatening the
very doors of the palace.

Escobar, elated with the task assigned him, arranged his
men, and made ready for the assault. The infidels beheld
his preparation with astonishment. All eyes, theretofore
bent upon the conflict in the palace yard, now fixed upon
the little band so boldly proposing to scale the sacred
heights. A cry came up the street: “The 'tzin, the 'tzin!”
then the 'tzin himself came; and as he passed through
the gate of the coatapantli, the thousands recognized him,
and breathed freely. “The 'tzin has come! The gods are
safe!” so they cheered each other.

The good captain led his men to the gate of the coatapantli.
With difficulty he gained entrance. As if to madden the
infidels, already fired by a zeal as great as his own, the
dismal thunder of the great drum of Huitzil' rolled down
from the temple, overwhelming all other sounds. Slowly he
penetrated the enclosure; closely his command followed
him; yet not all of them; before he reached the stairway he
was fighting for, the hundred were but ninety.

Twenty minutes, — thirty: at last Escobar set his foot on
the first step of the ascent. There he stopped; a shield of

iron clashed against his; his helmet rang with a deadly
blow. When he saw light again, he was outside the sacred
wall, borne away by his retreating countrymen, of whom not
one re-entered the palace unwounded.

Cortes, meantime, with sword and axe, cleared the palace
of assailants; and, as if the day's work were done, he
prepared to dismount. Don Christobal, holding his stirrup,
said, —

“Cierto, Señor, thou art welcome. I do indeed kiss thy
hand. I thank thee.”

“Not so, captain, not so. By my conscience, we are the
debtors! I will hear nothing else. It is true we came not a
moment too soon,” — he glanced at the breach in the wall,
and shook his head gravely, — “but — I speak what may
not be gainsaid — thou hast saved the palace.”

More he would have said in the same strain, but that a
sentinel on the roof cried out, —

“Ola, Señores!”

“What wouldst thou?” asked Cortes, quickly.

“I am an old soldier, Señor Hernan, —”

“To the purpose, varlet, to the purpose!”

“— whom much experience hath taught not to express
himself hastily; therefore, if thy orders were well
done, Señor, whither would our comrades over the way be
going?”

“To the top of the temple,” said Cortes, gravely, while all
around him laughed.

“Then I may say safely, Señor, that they will go round
the world before they arrive there. They come this way fast
as men can who have to —”

A long, exulting cry from the infidels cut the speech short;
and the party, turning to the temple, saw it alive with
waving sashes and tossing shields.

“To horse, gentlemen!” said Cortes, quietly, but with

flashing eyes. “Satan hath ruled yon pile long enough. I
will now tilt with him. Let the trumpets be sounded!
Muster the army! God's service hath become our necessity.
Haste ye!”

Out of the gate, opened to receive Escobar and his bruised
followers, marched three hundred chosen Christians, with as
many thousand Tlascalans. In their midst went Olmedo,
under his gown a suit of armor, in his hand a lance, and on
that a brazen crucifix. Other ensign there was not. Cortes
and his cavalry led the column, which was of all the arms
except artillery; that remained with De Olid to take care
of the palace.

And never was precaution more timely; for hardly had
the gate closed upon the outgoers, before the good captain
sent his garrison to the walls, once more menaced by the
infidels.

The preparations of Escobar, as we have seen, had been
under Io's view; so the prince, divining the object, drew
after him a strong support, and hastened to keep the advantage
of the stairways. On one of the eastern terraces he met
the 'tzin ascending. There was hurried salutation between
them.

“Look you for Hualpa?” asked Io', observing the 'tzin
search the company inquiringly.

“Yes. He should be here.”

The boy's face and voice fell.

“I would he were, good 'tzin. He left me on the azoteas.
With the look of one who had devoted himself, he embraced
me. His last words were, `Tell the 'tzin I have gone to make
for him a way into the palace.'” And thereupon Io' told the
story through, simply and sorrowfully; at the end the
listener kissed him, and said, —

“I will find the way he made for me.”

There was a silence, very brief, however, for a burst of

yells from below warned them of the fight begun. Then the
tzin, recalled to himself, gave orders.

“Care of the gods is mine now. Leave me these friends,
and go, and with the people at command, bring stones
and timbers, all you find, and heap them ready for use on
the terraces at the head of each stairway. Go quickly, so
may you earn the double blessing of Huitzil' and Tezca'!”

In a little time the 'tzin stood upon the last step of the
lowest stairway; nor did he lift hand until Escobar, half
spent with exertion, confronted him shield to shield. The
result has been told.

And then were shown the qualities which, as a fighting
man, raised the 'tzin above rivalry amongst his people. The
axe in his hand was but another form of the maquahuitl;
and that his shield was of the Christian style mattered
not, — he was its perfect master. With a joyous cry, he
rushed upon the arms outstretched to save the fallen captain;
played his shield like a shifting mirror; rose and fell the
axe, now in feint, now in foil, but always in circles swifter
than eye could follow; striking a victim but once, he amazed
and dazzled the Spaniards, as in the Moorish wars El Zagel,
the Moor, amazed and dazzled their fathers. Nor did he
want support. His followers, inspired by his example, struggled
to keep pace with him. On the flanks poured the masses
of his countrymen, in blind fury, content if, with their naked
hands, they could clutch the weapons that slew them. Such
valor was not to be resisted by the lessening band of
Christians, who yielded, at first inch by inch, then step by
step; at length, in disorder, almost in rout, they were driven
from the sacred enclosure.

The victory was decided; the temple was safe, and the
insult punished! The air shook with the deep music of the
drum; in the streets the companies yelled as if drunk; the
temple was beautiful with waving sashes and tossing shields

and banners; and on the azoteas of the great pile, in presence
of the people, the priests appeared and danced their
dance of triumph, — a horrible saturnalia. The fight had
been a trial of power between the gods Christian and Aztec,
and lo, Huitzil' was master!

The 'tzin felt the sweetness of the victory, and his breast
filled with heroic impulses. Standing in the gate of the
coatapantli, he saw the breach Hualpa had made in the wall
enclosing the palace, noticed that the ascent to the base of
the gorge was easy, and the gorge itself now wide enough
to admit of the passage of several men side by side. The
temptation was strong, the possibilities alluring, and he fixed
his purpose.

“It is the way he made for me, and I will tread it. Help
me, O God of my fathers!”

So he resolved, so he prayed.

And forthwith messengers ran to the chiefs on the four
sides of the palace with orders for them to pass the wall.
From the dead Spaniards the armor was stript, and arms
taken; and the robbers, fourteen caciques, men notable for
skill and courage, stood up under cuirass, and helm or
morion, and with pike and battle-axe of Christian manufacture,
covered, nevertheless, with pagan trappings.

Still standing in the gateway, the 'tzin saw the companies
in the street begin the assault. Swelled their war-cries as
never before, for the inspiration of the victory was upon
them also; rattled the tambours, brayed the conchs, danced
the priests, and from the temple and housetops poured the
missiles in a darkening cloud. Within his view a hundred
ladders were planted, and crowded with eager climbers. At
the gorge of the breach men struggled with each other to
make the passage first. He called a messenger: —

“Take this ring to the prince Io',” he said. “Tell him
the house of the gods is once more in his care.” Then to

his chosen caciques he turned, saying, — “Follow me, O
countrymen!”

With that, he walked swiftly to the breach; calm, collected,
watchful, silent, he walked. His companions shouted
his war-cry. From mouth to mouth it passed, thrilling and
inspiring, —

“Up, up, Tlateloco! Up, up, over the wall! The 'tzin
is with us!”

Meantime the beseiged were not idle; over the crest of
the parapet the Tlascalans fought successfully; through the
ports and embrasures the Christians kept up their fire of guns
great and small. Nevertheless, to the breach the 'tzin went
without stopping.

“Clear the way!” he cried.

The guns within made answer; a shower of blood
drenched him from head to foot. Except of the dead, the
way was clear! A rush through the slippery gorge, — a
shout, — and he was inside the enclosure, backed by his
caciques. And as he went in, Cortes passed out, marching
to storm the temple.

No doubt or hesitation on the 'tzin's part now; no looking
about, uncertain what to do, while bowmen and gunners
made a mark of him. He spoke to his supporters, and with
them faced to the right, and cleared the banquette of Tlascalans.
Over the wall, thus cleared, and through the breach
leaped his people; and as they came, the iron shields covered
them, and they multiplied rapidly.

About eight hundred Spaniards, chiefly Narvaez' men, defended
the palace. They fought, but not with the spirit of
the veterans, and were pushed slowly backward. As they
retired, wider grew the space of undefended wall; like waves
over a ship's side, in poured the companies; the Aztecs
fell by scores, yet they increased by hundreds.

Again the sick and wounded staggered from their quarters;

again De Olid brought his reserves into action; again the
volleys shook the palace, and wrapped it in curtains of
smoke, whiter and softer than bridal veils: still the infidels
continued to master the walls and the space within. By
and by the gates fell into their hands; and then, indeed, all
seemed lost to the Christians.

The stout heart of the good Captain Christobal was well
tempered for the trial. To the windows and lesser entrances
of the buildings he sent guards, stationing them inside; then,
in front of the four great doors, he drew his men back, and
fought on, so that the palace was literally girt with a belt
of battle.

An hour like that I write of seems a long time to a combatant;
on this occasion, however, one there was, not a
combatant, to whom, possibly, the time seemed much longer.
In his darkened chamber sat the king, neither speaking nor
spoken to, though surrounded by his court. He must have
heard the cries of his people; knowing them so near, in
fancy, at least, he must have seen their heroism and slaughter.
Had he no thought in sympathy with them? no
prayer for their success? no hope for himself even? Who
may answer? — so many there are dead in the midst of life.

At length the 'tzin became weary of the mode of attack,
which, after all, was but a series of hand-to-hand combats
along lengthened lines, that might last till night, or, indeed,
as long as there were men to fill the places of the fallen.
To the companies crowding the conquered space before the
eastern front of the palace, he passed an order: a simultaneous
forward movement from the rear took place; the
intervals between the ranks were closed up; a moment of
fusion, — a pressure; then a welding together of the whole
mass followed. After that words may not convey the scene.
The unfortunates who happened to be engaged were first
pushed, then driven, and finally shot forward, like dead

weights. Useless all skill, useless strength; the opposite
lines met; blood flew as from a hundred fountains; men,
impaled on opposing weapons, died, nailed together face to
face. As the only chance for life, very many fell down, and
were smothered.

The defenders broke in an instant. Back, back they
went, — back to the guns, which, for a time, served as
breakwaters to the wave; then past the guns, almost to
the wall, forced there by the awful impetus of the rush.

The truly great leaders of men are those who, invoking
storms, stand out and brave them when they come. Such
was Guatamozin. The surge I have so faintly described
caught him foremost in the fighting line of his people, and
flung him upon his antagonists. With his shield he broke
the force of the collision; the cuirass saved him from their
points; close wedged amongst them, they could not strike
him. Tossed like so much drift, backward they went,
forward he. Numbers of them fell and disappeared. When,
at last, the impetus of the movement was nigh spent, he
found himself close by the principal door of the palace.
But one man stood before him, — a warrior with maquahuitl
lifted to strike. The 'tzin raised his shield, and caught the
blow; then, upon his knee, he looked up, and saw the
face, and heard the exulting yell, of — Iztlil', the Tezcucan!
Whirled the weapon again. The noble Aztec summoned
all his spirit; death glared upon him through the burning
eyes of his hated rival; up, clear to vision, rose all dearest
things, — gods, country, glory, love. Suddenly the raised arm
fell; down dropped the maquahuitl; and upon the shield
down dropped Iztlil' himself, carrying the 'tzin with him.

The Tezcucan seemed dead.

A friendly hand helped the 'tzin to his feet. He was conscious,
as he arose, of a strange calm in the air; the clamor
and furious stir of the combat were dying away; he stood

in the midst of enemies, but they were still, and did not even
look at him. A shield not his own covered his breast; he
turned, and lo! the face of Hualpa!

“Whence came you?” asked the 'tzin.

“From the palace.”

“Thanks —”

“Not now, not now,” said Hualpa, in a low voice. “The
gods who permitted me to save you, O 'tzin, have not been
able to save themselves. Look! to the temple!”

His eyes followed Hualpa's directing finger, and the same
astonishment that held his enemies motionless around him,
the same horror that, in the full tide of successful battle,
had so instantly stayed his countrymen, seized him also.
He stood transfixed, — a man turned to stone!

The towers of the temple were in flames; and, yet more
awful, the image of Huitzil,' rolled to the verge of the
azoteas, was tottering to its fall! A thousand hands were
held up instinctively, — a groan, — a long cry, — and down
the stairway and terraces, grinding and crashing, thundered
the idol. Tezca' followed after, and the sacrificial stone;
then the religion of the Aztecs was ended forever.

As if to assure the great fact, when next the spectators
raised their eyes to the azoteas, lo! Olmedo and his crucifix!
The faithful servant of Christ had performed his mission;
he had burst the last gate, and gained the last mountain in
the way; and now, with bared head, and face radiant with
sublime emotion, he raised the symbol of salvation high
up in view of all the tribes, and, in the name of his Master,
and for his Master's Church, forever, by that simple ceremony,
took possession of the New World.

And marvellous to relate further, the tribes, awed if not
conquered, bowed their heads in peace. Even the companies
in the palace-yard marched out over their dead, and
gave up the victory so nearly won. Guatamozin and Hualpa

followed them, but with their faces to the foe. Needless
the defiance: as they went, not a word was spoken, not a
hand lifted. For the time, all was peace.