University of Virginia Library

33. CHAPTER XXXIII.

The midday sun was illuminating the peaks, and
darting its beams into the narrowest and darkest
ravines of these mountains, when Don Hernan, at the
head of his little army, rode to the crest of a hill, and
looked down upon the narrow, but beautiful valley of
Tonan, opening on the fields of Otompan,—or, as the
name has been more euphonically rendered by Spaniards,
Otumba. The level vale itself, as well as the
hills on both sides, as far up, at least, as the gentleness
of their slope allowed such cultivation, was
sprinkled with maize fields, which, being now at
their utmost point of luxuriance, covered such places
with intense verdure; while the green forests, that
here and there overshadowed the upper ridges, with
flowery cliffs protruding from their waving tops,
added the charm of solitude to the pleasant prospect
of human habitation. But there was one accidental
beauty at present revealed, which, however
disagreeable and even terrible to the leader, he could
not but acknowledge, in his heart, to surpass all the
others.

At the cry with which the general beheld this phenomenon,

his followers rushed up to his side, and perceived
the whole valley, as it seemed,—beginning at
the bottom of the ridge they now stood upon, and
extending not only from hill to hill, but as far as the
eye could see,—filled, and indeed blocked up, with
enemies. The white and scarlet hues of their garments,
the plumes of divers colours waving on their
heads like a sea of feathers, over whose surging surface
there passed here a bright sunbeam and there
the shadow of a cloud,—the glittering of copper
spears, of volcanic falchions, and of jewels, (for this
day, the pagans decorated themselves, as for a triumph,
in their richest array,) produced a scene which
was indeed both glorious and terrific. Through this
human flood, Don Hernan knew he must conduct his
weary and despairing people; but without daring to
hope that the hand which had parted the Sea of the
Desert from before the steps of the Israelites, would
open, for him, a path through this equally fearful obstruction.

The Christians gathered round their leader in
silence. The loud roar of shouts, sounding from below,
as if a whole world shrieked at once, shook the
mountain under their feet; but they replied not.—
Every man was, at that moment, commending his
soul to his Maker; for each knew there was no path
of escape, except though that valley, and felt in addition,
that, perhaps, not even the whole army, fresh,
well-appointed, full of spirits and resolution, as when,
on St. John's day, it entered the city of the lake,
could have made any impression on such a multitude,
displayed in such a position. The very extremity of
the case was the best counsel to meet it with fortitude;
every man considered his life already doomed
beyond respite, and, with such consciousness, looked
forward to his fate, with tranquillity. Their sufferings
by famine and fatigue on the road, though the mutinous
and lamenting fugitives did not then know it, had
better prepared them to encounter such a battle-field,
than a series of victories, with spoils of gold and

bread; for these torments having already rendered
their lives burdensome, they were not greatly frighted
at the prospect of ending them. These causes,
then, added to the fury of fanaticism, never entirely
at rest in the bosom of the invaders, will account for
their resolution, and even impatience, to attack an
army, rated by many of the conquerors, at two hundred
thousand men. Had they been happier men,
they would not have rushed upon such manifest destruction.

The priest Olmedo stretched forth his arm, holding
a crucifix: Christian and Tlascalan knelt down
upon the flinty ridge, and mingled together sullen
prayers.

As they rose, the ever-composed Sandoval cried
out, emphatically,—

“Now, my merry men all, gentlemen hidalgos
and gentlemen commoners, God hath, this day, given
us a great opportunity to signalize our valour;”—
which was all the oration it occurred to his imagination
to make. The soldiers looked upon him with a
gloomy indifference. Then out spoke the hot-headed
Alvarado:

“There be, to my reckoning, in yonder plain,” he
said, with a grin of desperation, “some five hundred
thousand men; we have, of our own body, some
four hundred and fifty Christian soldiers, and we may
count the two thousand Tlascalans, here at our heels,
for fifty more; which just leaves us a thousand dogs
apiece to fight in yonder vale. If we gain the victory
over such odds, never believe me, if we be not
clapped down in books by that German enchanter
Faust, who hath invented a way of making them in
such numbers, as being more heroical men than
either Don Alejandro, the great emperor of Egypt, or
some other country,—or Don Rodrigo himself, who
was much greater than any such dog of a heathen
king. This much I will say, that never before had
starving men such a chance of dying like knights of
renown; and as, doubtless, God will send us some

fifty or an hundred thousand angels, to fight on our
side, we may chance stumble on a victory: in hope
of which, or in the certainty, on the other hand, of
going to heaven, I say, Santiago, and at them! for
their bodies are covered with gold and jewels!”

“God will help us!” cried Cortes; “and my friend
Alvarado hath very justly said, that there is a rich
spoil, in that valley, for victors. Though there be
here, perhaps, fifty thousand men, or more, yet are
they infidels, and, therefore, but as sparrows and
gnats before the face of God's soldiers. There are,
also, acres of very sweet corn in the valley; and,
beyond yon yelling herds, are the gates of Tlascala.
But let it not be thought, I will, this day, compel the
sword of any Christian. Yonder are the hill-tops;—
there are dens enow, wherein one may give his bones
to wild-cats, and there be tall cliffs from which they
who prefer such end, may throw themselves, and
straightway be beyond the reach of battle. For
myself, though but one man follow me, yet will I
descend to that plain, walk through that multitude,
and marshalling an hundred thousand Tlascalans,
after I have rested me a little, return, by the same
path we are now treading, to the gates of Mexico,
to revenge upon such as yonder scum, the death of
my brothers, who are in heaven, as well as to lay
claim to those rich lands and mines of gold, which
are our right, and which it is yet our destiny to over-master.
If ye be minded to disperse and starve
among the hills, let me be acquainted with your resolution;
if ye will fight like soldiers and Christians,
speak out your good thoughts, and, in God's name,
let us begin!”

“We will fight!” muttered the desperate men.

At this moment, some strong clear voice from the
company began to pronounce the words of the chant,
Kyrie Eleison, and the rest joining in, Cortes gave
the signal to descend; and thus they went slowly
down towards the host, invoking mercy and singing
the praises of God, and waxing in boldness and fanaticism

as they sang, until the neighbouring rocks
rang with the loud and solemn echoes of devotion.

Whatever was the piety of Don Hernan, it did
not, however, prevent his taking all the steps which
could be expected of a general in such a situation;
and one while joining, loudly, with others in the chant,
and at another, pausing to give deliberate instructions
to his officers, he arranged the order and expedients
of battle, before the wild anthem was concluded.
His instructions were simple, and related
but to one point. He counselled no one to be valiant,
for he knew the veriest coward in the ranks would
be compelled to deeds of heroism that day. He only
commanded, that the little troop of horse should form
five deep, and follow him whithersoever he might
lead, and that the footmen should keep their ranks
close, and follow after the horse. He knew, as, indeed,
did most of his followers, that the orders conveyed
to a Mexican army by a Mexican general,
instead of being transmitted, from division to division,
by messengers, were directly communicated to
all by the general himself, through the medium of the
great banner, which he bore in his own hands, and,
from the lofty litter on which he was carried, kept
ever displayed to the eyes of his warriors. A few
simple motions of this royal telegraph, sufficed to
convey all the directions which a barbarous commander
was required to bestow upon a barbarous
army. Among these, the vailing or dropping the
standard, was the well-known signal of retreat; and
whether it might be lowered by the general himself,
or struck from his hands by some fortunate foe, still it
was equally certain, that, in either case, his followers
would immediately, upon seeing it fall, betake themselves
to flight.—When Cortes eyed this immense
multitude, he calculated the chances of victory, not
by the probabilities of routing it, but by those of
making his way to the great banner.

The imperial standard, which, in the tongue of
Mexico, bore the horribly uncouth title of Tlahuiz

matlaxopilli, was conspicuously visible, even from the
mountain Aztaquemacan, which the Spaniards were
now descending. In the centre of the pagan army
was a group of warriors, made remarkable by the
height and splendour of their penachos, the glittering
of their jewelled decorations, and the sheen of their
copper lances, the blades of which, like some that
had been seen in Mexico, were full a yard in length,
and polished so that they shone like gold. These
were the guards,—a body of young nobles,—which
surrounded the person of the general, to protect the
banner from violence. In the centre of this group,
upon a litter of almost imperial gorgeousness, stood
the stately barbarian, bearing on a long pike-staff the
standard, which was a sort of net-work, made of
chains of gold,—and, therefore, a more significant
emblem of the object of conquest, and the fate of
subjugation, than any banner of a Christian nation,
even at this day. A few white feathers, waving
amongst the links, kept it ever conspicuous.

As Don Hernan descended, he explained to the
horsemen his design to merge every other object in
that of seizing the Mexican standard; a project which
met the concurrence of each.

“All that I have now to say to you,” he added,
when approaching the base of the hill, “is, to charge
with me at half-speed, and take no thought of slaying.
Those of you, who have ever endured the bastinado
of a pedagogue, will remember, that Julius
Cæsar, or some such knave of a paynim, it matters
not who, being opposed in some civil war, to certain
cohorts of young gallants and hidalgos of Rome, directed
his archers to spare the lives, but to let fly at
the faces, of these lady-puppets;—a counsel of infinite
wisdom; for, I remember, that in my youth,
until I got this gash o' the chin from a gentleman of
Saragossa, which somewhat spoils the beauty of my
beard, I had a mortal aversion to fight with any man
much given to striking at the face. What I have to
advise, therefore, is, that you will imitate the wisdom

of that same Roman hound, and lance your
spears full at the eyes of all who may oppose you.
I have given charge to the footmen to finish our
work: while they are slaughtering such curs as are
not satisfied with scratched faces, we will make free
with yon same knave of the gold net. Let it be
reckoned—and 'tis worth a king's ransom—the prize
of him who overthrows the general.—Hark! hear
ye how the infidels shout!—Are ye ready? In the
name of God, the Virgin, and Santiago, have at
them now like men! Amen!—Santiago! Santiago!”

Thus shouting his war-cry, for now the horsemen
had reached the bottom of the hill, Don Hernan
couched his spear, with four cavaliers at his side, of
whom Don Amador de Leste was one, and, followed
by all the others, dashed furiously at the first ranks of
the Mexicans, who were already rushing against him.

The savages sprang aside, flinging their javelins
and swords at the hot Christians, and raining arrows
on their armed bodies; but ever, though thus expressing
their hostility, yielding rank after rank before the irresistible
charge; until it became apparent to the
most doubting, that they might succeed, at last, in
reaching the banner. They, therefore, redoubled
their exertions, shouted the names of their saints, and
aiming continually at the eyes of the foe, made such
progress, that they were already almost, as it seemed,
within reach of the prize, when a yell of the Indians
of more than ordinary loudness, echoed by
the infantry with exclamations of alarm, brought
them to a sudden stand.

They had penetrated deeply into the mass; but it
was as a noble ship ploughs her way through billows,
which yield and divide, only to unite again in her
wake, and roar after in pursuit. From their lofty
seats, they could overlook the multitude, and behold
how quickly the path they had carved, was filled up
by screaming barbarians, rushing turbulently after
them; while others dashed in like numbers, and with
equal ferocity, upon the footmen, now left far behind.

As they looked thus over their shoulders, they
paused with surprise, and even perturbation; for they
perceived, furiously descending the slope of the hill on
the left hand, against the infantry which was already
sorely beset, what seemed a Christian cavalier in black
armour, mounted on a noble bay horse, and couching
a lance like a trained soldier, only that, behind him,
there followed, with savage yells, a band of several
thousand Indians, bearing the well-known colours of
Tenochtitlan itself.

“God be our stay!” cried the general, looking
aghast at this astonishing apparition; “have we here
an infidel god, in very deed, risen up against us, and
riding a-horse like a Christian man? Avoid thee,
Satan! and all good saints spurn thee again to the
pit, from which thou comest!”

“'Tis Mexitli himself!” cried one.

“'Tis the devil!” said another.

“Look!” exclaimed Don Pedro, “he rushes down
upon the footmen, like a rock, tumbled from the hill-top;
and hark! heard ever man such horrible voice?
'Tis Mahound! 'tis Satan!—Now all good angels
befriend us!”

“For my part,” said Don Amador de Leste—

But before his words had yet been heard by any
of his companions, they were cut short by such loud
and thrilling cries of joy from the infantry as equally
confounded the cavaliers.

“Elo! Santiago! elo! nuestro buen amigo, el valoroso
Santiago!”—that is to say, “Lo, St. James! behold,
our good friend, the valiant St. James!”—burst from
the lips of the footmen, in a frenzy of triumph.

The cavaliers looked again, but to the opposite
mountain, and beheld upon that, as upon the other,
an armed and mounted cavalier descending with
lance in rest, and with the speed of thunder, as if
rushing to a tournay with him of the black armour,
but without being followed by any one, excepting a
single youth, who staggered far behind.

At this sight, the cavaliers uttered loud cries of joy,
not doubting that St. James had indeed come to
rescue them from the claws of the accursed Mexitli,
as they began to consider the black phantom.

“Our saint fights for us!” cried Cortes; “On!
leave the black fiend to him!—On, and let him behold
our valour. The standard, ho!—Santiago is nigh!
The standard, the standard!”

The sight of the second apparition seemed to have
smitten the pagans with as much terror as the view
of their own champion had infused into the Spaniards.
The young nobles who surrounded the banner, looked
to the vision with awe; and ere they had yet recovered
from their confusion, the Christian cavaliers,
elated and invigorated, fell upon them with such violence
as left the long copper lances useless in their
hands.

“On, and quick!” shouted Don Hernan, “or the
knavish colour-man will spring from his perch, and
so rob ye of the gold. On, ho! on!—Hah, infidel!
art thou not mine own?”

As he uttered these last words, he rose on his stirrups,
stretched over his horse's neck, and handling
his heavy spear as one would an ordinary javelin,
lanched it with all his force at the chief. There
was never a better mark; for the barbarian, instead
of showing, as Cortes had hinted, any desire to
desert his litter, advanced to its very verge; and
while he balanced the staff and its weighty crest
with his left hand, whirled manfully a short dart
round his head, looking all the while at the great
Teuctli. There never was a better mark,—for his
breast, covered with a flimsy hauberk of skins, on
which were sewed thin plates of gilded copper, was
fully exposed;—there never was a better aim. Before
the dart had left his grasp, the spear of Don Hernan
smote him on the chest, and piercing copper and
bone alike, hurled him backwards, with the standard,
out of the litter.

The cavaliers shouted victory, and trampling

down the litter-bearers, and the young nobles, as
these began to fly, looked eagerly for the prize.

“Have the knaves robbed us?—Hah! mad John of
Salamanca, thou pickest my pocket of these crowns,
dost thou?”

These words of Don Hernan were addressed to a
young hidalgo, who, the moment he had perceived
the spear of Cortes take effect, had flung himself
from his pied steed, rushed upon the downfallen infidel,
and striking his sword into his throat, tore from
him the badges of authority.

“He who strikes the quarry,” said the elated youth,
flinging both plume and golden net over the neck of
his general's horse, “has the true claim to the trophy.”

“Keep them thyself, for thou hast won them; and
if Don Carlos be of mind, brave Juan, thou shalt
mount them for thy coat of arms. Soho, De Leste!
where art thou?—I thought this prize should have
been thine!”

“De Leste has gone mad,” said Alvarado.—“Shall
we chase the runagates? See how they scamper!”—

The words of Alvarado were true. No sooner
had the golden banner fallen from its height, and
been lost among the combatants, than there rose a
dismal yell over the whole valley, and the vast multitudes,
those near at hand, and those afar, alike, began
to fly, and in the utmost confusion.

“Victory! praise be to God! to God and our noble
St. James!” cried Cortes, with a shout, that thrilled
to the hearts of the flying pagans. “Follow not the
knaves: leave them to the foot—to the allies and our
mighty champion, the Saint!—Soho, De Leste! return.
Follow not after the knaves.”

“ 'Tis De Olid,” cried Don Pedro, “that halloos
the hunt's-up. I tell thee, De Leste is mad!”

“Back to our Champion!” said Cortes.—“Hah!
what saidst thou of De Leste?”

“That he is gone mad,—raving, besottishly, and
very blasphemously mad; and that he deserted us,
the moment he saw thee fling thy spear.”

“God forbid the youth should prove to be as was
his kinsman, before his death-day,” said Cortes; “for
a more gallant and sufficient soldier, though somewhat
self-willed, have I never beheld.—Mad, sayst
thou?”

“He swore to me, first,” said Alvarado, with a
devout shrug, “that that paynim god, Mexitli, descending
the hill yonder, was mounted on his own
good horse, Fogoso; which seems to me not unreasonable;
for Fogoso was, in some sense, the best
charger lost that night, (which God punish to the
heathen for ever!) and, doubtless, Huitzlipochtli, if determined
to go out a pricking, like a Christian knight-errant,
would be wise enough to pick up the best ghost
of Christian horse. And, secondly,” continued Don
Pedro, crossing himself, “he swore that his most
holy valour, Santiago, who came down from the hill-top
to help us, was no more than the ghost of his
kinsman, the knight Calavar, who was drowned,
horse and all, in the salt lake, near to Iztapalapan!
—But ho! halon! let us follow the hunt!”—

“Ha, my masters!” cried Don Hernan; “let us
return, and fathom this marvel, for it may bode us
much to know. But stay—I will not rob ye of pastime.
As many of ye as will, spur after the hounds,
and aid the Tlascalans.”

So saying, and the foes now being scattered in
flight over the neighbouring hills, the general returned
towards the infantry; while the cavaliers, shouting,
as if in a boar-chase, urged their steeds up the hills,
in pursuit of the fugitives.

Thus was fought, and thus won, a battle, in which
four hundred and fifty Spaniards, aided by a handfull
of Tlascalans, contended with a host of such incredible
numbers, that, to this day, men remember it with
wonder, and would reject it as a fable, were it not
that the testimony of a thousand facts has placed it
beyond the reach of question.