University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.

The neophyte had been informed by his friend De
Morla, as a proof of the degree of civilization reached
by the Mexicans, that their armies were formed
with method, and as regularly divided and commanded
as those of Christendom,—each tribe displaying
under a peculiar banner, representing the
arms, or, as we should say of our Northern bands,
the totem, of the race, and each tribe separated into
squadrons and companies, led by subalterns of precisely
ascertained rank and power. He perceived
none of these marks of discipline among the assailants;
and, while properly appreciating their devoted
courage, was obliged to consider them no better than
a furious and confused mob. He was right: the warriors
of Mexico had not yet appeared, and these wild
creatures, who came ungeneralled and unadvised to
the attack, were no more than the common citizens,
fired by the distresses of their king, and rushing to
his aid, without any bond of connexion or government,
save the unanimity of their fury. The violence
with which they leaped to the attack, carried them
to the gates of the court, and to the mouths of the
artillery, where they fell under the spears of the Spaniards,
or were scattered like chaff at each murderous
discharge of the cannon. Added to this, the Tlascalans,
animated by their ancient hatred, and the presence
of him whom they esteemed almost a god,
clambered upon the wall, and with their clubs and
lances did bloody execution on the multitudes below.
The Tlascalans were, indeed, almost the only persons
of the garrison who suffered much loss; for the
Spaniards, cased in iron and escaupil, and fenced
behind the wall, or the battlements of the terrace,
discharged their cross-bows and muskets, and handled
their long spears, in comparative safety.

The din of yells and screams, mingled with the

crash of arquebuses and the sharp clang of steel
cross-bows, was, in itself, infernal; while the peals
of artillery, served with such skill and constancy,
that, every half-minute, there was one or other discharged
from some quarter of the palace, leaving, at
each discharge, a long avenue of death among the
crowds, converted what might have seemed a scene
of elysium into a spectacle of hell. No man could
reckon, no man could imagine, the slaughter made
by the besieged army, among their foes, in the short
space of half an hour. But the sun rose, and still found
the infatuated barbarians rushing,—now with shouts
of defiance, and now with mournful cries, as if calling
upon their imprisoned king,—to add yet another
and another layer to the bloody ridges growing in
the paths of the cannon-shot.

All this time, the captive monarch, unseen by his
people, though quickly detected by the sharp eye of
Cortes, sat in one of the turrets, witnessing the devoted
love of his people, and feeling, with sharp
pangs, that he had not deserved it. And now too (for
the suddenness of the punishment had convinced him
of the impolicy of the fault,) did Don Hernan himself
feel a touch of compunction for the wanton injury he
had done his prisoner; and, fearing lest the work of
this day should be but the prelude of a storm it might
not be in his power to allay, he sent to him De Morla,
a cavalier whom more than others he seemed to
favour, to persuade him, if indeed he might be persuaded,
to exercise his authority, and by commanding
his people to disperse, preserve them from that
destruction, which, the general avowed, he was loath
to bring upon them.

No smile lit the countenance of Montezuma, at
the appearance of his favourite; and to the demand
of Don Hernan, he replied, with dignity, yet with a
bitter sorrow,—

“The Teuctli,” (so they called Don Hernan, not
because they esteemed him a divinity, but a great
prince, this being the title of one of the classes of

nobility,) “has made me a slave: my subjects are
his. Let the king govern his people.”

So saying, and immediately descending from the
roof, he shut himself in his apartments, and resolutely
refused to admit another messenger to his
presence.

“And the dog denies me, then!” cried Cortes,
when this answer was repeated to him. “He says
the truth: he is my slave; his people are mine; and
I will straightway convince them of their subjection.
To horse, to horse, brave cavaliers!” he shouted
aloud. “Let it not be said, we wasted powder on
miserable naked Indians, when we have swords to
strike them on the neck, and horses' hoofs to tread
them to the earth!”

No one was more ready to obey this call, than
Don Amador de Leste. He had stood upon the
wall, occasionally striking down some furious assailant
with his spear, but oftener cheering others with
his voice, and yet remaining more as a spectator than
a combatant, disdaining to strike, except when personally
attacked, until his blood was heated by the
spectacle.

“Mount, now, my knave Lazaro! and perhaps we
shall find my poor Jacinto, among these outrageous
infidels. Get thee to horse, Fabueno; for to-day
thou shalt see what it is to be a soldier!”

Fogoso stood, in his mail, like the steed of a true
knight, champing the bit and whinnying, for he longed
to be in the midst of the combat; and loud was
the sound of his neighing, when he felt the weight
of his master, and turned his fierce eyes towards
the gate.

Before the cavaliers, forming three abreast, (as
many as could at once pass through the gates,) loosing
their sabres in the scabbards, and couching their
spears, had yet received the signal to dash upon the
opposing herds, there came from the great pyramid,
which was seen rearing its mountainous mass above
the houses of the square, the sound as of a horn, sad

and solemn, but of so mighty a tone, that it swelled
distinctly over all the din of the battle, and sent a
boding fear to the heart of the Christians. They
knew, or they thought it the sacred bugle of Mexitli,
sounded only during the festivals of that ferocious
deity, or on the occasion of a great battle, when, it
was supposed, that Mexitli himself spoke to his children,
and bade them die bravely. There was not a
Spaniard present, who had not heard that the effect
of this consecrated trumpet, so sparingly used, was
to nerve even the vanquished with new spirit, and
those fighting with additional rage; and that the
meanest Mexican, however overpowered, thought
not of retreat, when thus cheered by his god. The
surprise of all was therefore great, when, at the first
blast, the Mexicans ceased their cries, and stood as
if turned into statues; and they were still more
amazed, when, as the brazen instrument again poured
its lugubrious roar over the city, the barbarians, responding
with a mournful shriek, turned their backs
upon the besieged, and instantly began to fly. A
third blast was sounded, and nothing was seen upon
the great square, or the four streets, save heaps of
carcasses, and piles of human beings, writhing in the
death-agony.

“Here is diabolical magic!” cried Cortes, joyfully.
“There are more signals made by that accursed horn
than we have heard of; and it seems to me, Huitzilopochtli
may be sometimes a coward! Nevertheless,
we will look a little into the mystery; for I perceive
shining cloaks, as well as priestly gowns, on the temple,
which we will make claim to; for doubtless the
traitor Cuitlahuatzin is under one of them.—Take
thou thy party, Sandoval, and scour me the streets
that lie eastward. We meet at the temple!—For
ourselves, my masters! we are fifty horse, and three
hundred foot, all good Christian men; for in this work
we shall need no Tlascalans. Let us go, in the name
of God, and God will be with us.—Only, 'tis my
counsel and command, that we keep together, with

our eyes wide open, lest we should have company
not so much to our liking.”

The cavaliers cheered, as they rode from the
gates,—and, with a savage delight, urged their horses
over the piles of dead, or smote some dying struggler
with the spear,—an amusement in which they were
occasionally imitated by the foot-soldiers, who followed
at their heels.