 | CHAPTER VI. Centeola |  |
6. CHAPTER VI.
While the scenes last described were transpiring, matters
of far greater moment to the public, but still more or
less involving the fate of the leading personages of our
story, were on the tapis in another part of the city, which
was deemed the more peculiar precinct of royalty and
power, and which, therefore, was generally known by the
appellation of the Sacred Enclosure. This place was
separated from the rest of the city by a wall about ten feet
high, embracing an oblong square area of perhaps fifteen
acres. On the East side of this square stood the Great
Temple of Mixitli, who as the God of war, and supposed
protecting deity of the city, received the chief and highest
worship of its idolatrous people. In a line with this
imposing edifice, and on the same side of the square, stood
the lesser temples and sacred pyramids, consecrated to
various inferior deities, the largest and most conspicuous
of which was the temple of the greatly feared Micblanteuct,
the God of Hell. On the West side, and nearly
opposite the Great Temple, was the Royal Council Hall,
the great state edifice of the city. Beyond, and about
of costly structures, the central one of which rose high
above the rest, and terminated in a gilded pinnacle. The
next in size and magnificence, was the residence, or palace
as it might well be called, of the great High Priest of the
God of War, situated in the middle of the northerly end
of the enclosure; while all the intermediate spaces along
the walls on either side, were filled with the mansions of
the more powerful and favored nobles, high officers of
state, and the humbler houses of the Seers, and the numerous
priests and their subordinates, who administered the
religious rites and ceremonies in the temples dedicated to
the different deities of general or partial worship among
the people.
In view of the alarming exigencies of the hour, the
king, with a small retinue of officials and trusty attendants,
had, early that evening, repaired to the Great Council
Hall, there to meet those on whom he most relied for
advice and assistance in administering the government.
The ordinary meetings of the Council were not generally
attended by the king, or if attended by him, it was in his
common apparel, and rather as a spectator than a participant.
But on this important occasion, when the news
last received made all feel conscious that the safety of the
city was at stake, he came attired in his royal robes and
diadem, and took the great chair of state, designed to be
occupied only by the ruling sovereigns. The king was
And the total lack of firmness and resolution which his
looks exhibited showed that his mental and moral faculties
had even preceded his physical energies in the process of
decay. He had been an exacting despot, and, until recently,
he had viewed his Council only as mere creatures
of his will. But all his arrogance had now forsaken him.
He seemed to have lost all confidence in his own resources
in the present emergency, and under the lively apprehensions
of dangers to grow out of it, which had obviously
seized him, he looked helplessly around him for the advice
and support of the very men whose counsel he had been
wont to reject whenever it failed to tally with his wishes.
His councillors, who were also generally past the
middle age, all seemed equally impressed with their royal
master, with the perils of the crisis, and equally anxious
that something shall be done to avert them. But what
that something was no one seemed prepared to indicate.
The minds of all appeared to be undecided and fluctuating.
In the colloquial discussion that now ensued, some suggested
one measure, some another; while none of them
seemed long to adhere to the opinions they had advanced,
but eagerly watched to hear new propositions. In short
it soon became evident, that their counsels were so entirely
distracted that no measure promising any additional
safety to the city could be adopted, or even confidently
proposed; and to add to their fears and perplexities, fresh
of the invading foe were every little while arriving. Runner
after runner, coming from the vicinity of the hostile
array, came in, as the night advanced, each bringing
tidings more alarming than those of the one last preceding
him. And at length, to complete the consternation, one arrived
and rushed in hot haste to the Council Hall with the
startling intelligence, that the enemy had assaulted and carried
the defenses of the warlike tribe of the Bears, scattering
their warriors and people like autumn leaves in a tempest,
before the irresistible onset, and leaving the way
open to the former, if left unopposed, for a victorious
march on the city within the next twenty-four hours.
“It is the duty of the Council to provide full and sufficient
measures for the safety of the city,” exclaimed the
fear-smitten old King, his cracked voice trembling with
agitation, as he thrust out his hands, with half menacing,
half imploring gestures, towards the scarcely less troubled
councillors before him.—“Yes, it is their plain duty; and
yet no one speaks to any purpose. But something must
be done immediately, and I command it to be done.”
“I propose then,” said one of the leading councillors,
thus driven to some kind of action by the absurd mandate
of the King, “I propose that we send out a thousand
warriors to meet the foe and stay their progress, so that
they shall not be suffered to approach the city, and compel
us to place our only hope on the doubtful result of
doubtless make on every part of the walls.”
“Would that be the part of wisdom and prudence?”
asked another leading councillor. “If the enemy are so
strong as to have defeated the Bear warriors, as numerous
and brave as they are, would our less hardy city warriors
be likely to meet a better fate?”
“No,” said a third; “and even should they not be
routed, would not the foe, who are said to be as numerous
as the leaves of the forest, be apt, while part of their army
was engaging our warriors, throw another force round behind
them and cut them off from the city, so that they
could render us no further aid?”
“Then let none of my warriors leave the city,” here
interposed the timid old king. “We shall need them all
to man the walls and towers. The forces of the Imperial
City must not be weakened. As you all know, I am the
last of the Royal family. My sons conspired against me
and were justly put to death. My two wives, the good
one and the bad one, are both dead. My two daughters,
who, by a law of our kingdom, might also, when there
were no sons, have rightfully come to the throne at my
death, have likewise passed away, one early, the other
more recently. I am therefore, a poor lone old man. If
I die, there is none to succeed me, and the kingdom will
be broken up. A people without a head would soon be
scattered and become the prey of every hostile nation
his throne, as the last hope of the nation. The measure
proposed is not a good one, and must be abandoned. Let
the council devise other measures. It is for them, I repeat,
to concert some measure which will secure the safety
of the city and the king. And first, I call on my faithful
old councillor, Huasco, for his opinion. He has never
yet failed me in any emergency. He is wise in all things,
and will not fail to see and tell us what is best to be done.”
The person addressed, who was no other than the elder
of the two emissaries, who had visited the Sage and his
daughter at their village, as described in a former chapter,
now rose in obedience to the call of the king and said —
“Nobody here has yet said anything about the protection
of the Gods. If they are against us, they will make
our warriors weak and feeble-hearted as women in the presence
of the foe. But if they are for us, our warriors will
be strong, and no enemy can prevail over them. Let us
first seek to know, then, how the Gods are affected towards
us in this crisis, and if we find they are adverse, it behoves
us to ascertain the cause, that it may be removed
and their favor be again secured. But I am no Seer or
Priest to decide these momentous questions. I propose,
therefore, that the Seers and Priests be immediately summoned
to appear before us, that we may hear their opinions
and take measures accordingly.”
This proposal being unanimously approved by the king
all the leading seers and priests to give their attendance
forthwith at the Great Council Hall, for the purposes
which the mover of the measure had designated.
And in a short time, nearly a dozen of these professional
dignitaries, who had ever been allowed to exercise an important
influence in the affairs of the government, and
whose opinions, as among all superstitious nations in times
of great public fears and perplexities, were likely to outweigh
those of the wisest councillors, were formally
ushered into the Hall. And after the reasons for summoning
them thus to favor the council with their presence
in this crisis of the city's and the nation's peril, were
explained, they were respectfully invited to offer their
opinions and advice.
“The Gods are evidently angry with us,” said a leading
Seer, in response to the demand, which he now understood
to be made on the professional gifts of himself and
brother Seers. “They have veiled their faces from us
during the last day or two. They have withheld the
light of prophecy. They have shut up the spirit Heavens,
so that we cannot see, as usual, what is, and what is to be.
There is a cloud over the present, and all looks dim and
confused along the vistas of the future. There must be
potent reasons for this; but to me it has not been revealed.”
“Our brother has spoken well,” said a second Seer,
prophecied smooth things to the rulers, assuring them that
the foe were not to advance on the city, but now, in the
face of the developements of the night, dare do so no longer.
“He has spoken the words of truth. His experience
is the experience of us all. The spirit Heavens are
dark to-night. We cannot pierce them so as to read what
is to befall in the future, of which we are left to judge
only by visible signs and portents. And these even are
of such a new and mysterious character that we are much
at fault in determining their significance.”
“Have any such signs and portents been discovered
the past day, or to-night?” anxiously inquired a councillor.
“Ay, many,” returned the former. “They have been
disclosed to me both in the heavens above and the earth
beneath. The moon and stars seem to me to wear to-night,
a very unnatural and ominous appearance. Even
the very air around us seems changed from its natural
condition by some malign influence. But it is now especially
the earth that furnishes the most mysterious omens.
I have heard strange, hollow sounds which seemed to issue
from the ground, and more than once I have distinctly
perceived long quivering vibrations passing through the
earth beneath my feet. This last omen seems to me to
indicate that the dreaded Mictlanteuct, the God of Hell,
whose throne is deep down towards the middle of the
His chief priest, however, is present, and may perchance
be able to tell what disturbs this God, and what will be
required to propitiate him.”
“He requires blood — the blood of a human victim,”
responded the priest thus appealed to, a huge, deformed
and every way repulsive looking being, and for that very
reason deemed all the more suitable representative of the
grim God, to whose service he was devoted. “He is angry
— ay, justly angry at the neglect he has experienced
at the hands of our people. Sacrifices have been made
to other gods, but none to him. He demands that the
sacrifice of a man should be made to him, in the dark, and
at his appropriate hour of midnight. And I am clearly
of the opinion that nothing short of that will propitiate
him, and prevent him from throwing his fearful power in
favor of the invading foe, who are perhaps more naturally
his children than we.”
“But there is another God whom it is a thousand times
more our interest first to propitiate,” here eagerly interposed
a priest of the great temple, “and that is the great
Mixitli, the all potent God of war, who has always been
regarded as the especial guardian of our people, and the
champion spirit of our nation, having conducted us triumphantly
through all our wars, and aided us to establish
and raise our kingdom to its present proud position of
power and glory. Ay, and there is good reason why he
alarming circumstances of the hour, that he, too, gives
unmistakable evidence of being offended.”
“Mixitli offended? how? how? what is that evidence?”
exclaimed several Councillors, starting up with
looks of surprise and alarm.
“A short time ago,” said the Priest in reply, “I ascended
to the sacred floor surmounting the solid part of
the great Temple, and consecrated to the image of Mixitli
and the altars and implements of the worship of the God.
As next in rank to the High Priest himself, it is made my
duty to visit this holy place every night to see that everything
is in order, and especially to note the aspects of
the image, through which the God has been known on
sundry important emergencies to manifest himself to his
accepted priests, and to indicate by signs which they only
are permitted to understand and interpret, the requirements
of his will.
Believing that the present alarming crisis might well
furnish one of those emergencies in which the God makes
the image his temporary tabernacle, I entered the consecrated
room with trembling reverence and anxiety. I was
expecting much in the way of manifestations, but was not
prepared for what I then witnessed. I there beheld Tolpan,
the High Priest, lying prostrate at the feet of the image,
and, through it, in evident communication with the great deity
himself. For awhile he was too much absorbed and agitated
length measurably subsiding, he became apprised of my
presence, motioned me to his side, and bade me watch and
listen. I did so, and soon distinguished strange, low,
hollow sounds, which at length rose to distinct outbreaks
of what seemed to me to be wrathful mutterings, mingled
with the tones of complaint and rebuke, all appearing to
issue from the belly of the image, which the next moment
began to tremble like a man under the excitement of anger
that he is unable to suppress. And the High Priest,
who then shortly arose, told me that these fearful manifestations
had several times been repeated during the
evening.”
“And how does Tolpan, the High Priest, interpret
these mysterious manifestations?” anxiously asked a
Councillor.
“He did not seem prepared, or else deemed it inexpedient
to give them a full interpretation,” answered the
Priest. “He intimated his fears however, that a sacrilege
or some heinous sin against the God must have been
either actually committed, or was being meditated by
some persons belonging to the city, or more likely, some
who have this evening arrived, are conspiring to put
down the worship of the God, and set his power at naught.
Neither Tolpan or myself have ever before witnessed such
marked tokens of displeasure as the God has this evening
sacrifices will propitiate him.”
“Such sacrifices have already been provided,” said
the councillor Huasco, “an order has many days since
been issued to gather in from the different tribes a full
score of fair virgins; and they are all to be duly sacrificed
to the god on the second day of the approaching
festival.”
“Tolpan well knows that such an order has been issued;
and relying on its faithful execution, he has solemnly
promised Mixitli that he would bring that full number
of victims to the altar. But he is fearful that the measure,
as wise and imperiously demanded as it is, at this
alarming crisis, will be, in part, at least, defeated. Of
the score of virgins ordered not over two thirds of the
number have as yet been brought into this city. Some
of those who had been marked for the purpose, having
been apprised of their selection by traitors, as it is supposed,
had, when the officers and runners came for them,
escaped into the forest and were nowhere to be found.
Some of them broke away from their keepers after they
had been taken, and one, it has been just reported, was
seized and carried off by a monstrous wild beast on the
way hither.”
“But it is too soon to say that all will not yet be made
right. New bands of the most trusty and active emissaries
have this evening been dispatched to secure the requisite
lacking ones will all be in and ready for the sacrifice at
the usual time of the ceremony, which has ever been on
the second afternoon of the festival.”
“But may it not then prove too late to secure the great
object in view?” interposed a sagacious old Seer who had
been keenly noting the progress of the discussion. “If
we are to believe the accounts we have just received that the
enemy are within a day's march of us, who does not see
that the city may be assaulted and taken before the hour
of the sacrifices, as now appointed, shall arrive? If we
are to propitiate the offended God in this manner, at all,
it should be done with the least possible delay. I propose,
therefore that the sacrifices take place at an early hour
to-morrow, or on the first, instead of the last day of the
festival.”
“The Seer has spoken the words of great wisdom” —
warmly responded the councillor Huasco. “The proposition
seems to me to come as from the inspiration of a true
Seer. I earnestly approve it. Let it be adopted. Let
the time of the sacrifices be altered, as he suggests, from
the second to the first day of the festival. The urgency
of the case demands it. Mixitli may then be propitiated
in season for our deliverance. Let the King order the
change, and the city may yet be saved.”
“I order it — I decree it!” hurriedly exclaimed the
King, who appeared eagerly to catch at the measure as
mind,” and let the decree be carried into execution.
Let the High Priest promise the god that he shall
not be cheated out of any of his victims; for the whole
power of my kingdom shall be this night put in requisition
to secure the appointed number. But where are the
rest of the Seers, who have so often of late prophecied to
me that the enemy were not to approach the city — why
are they silent now. They have said the spirit heavens
are so dark that they could not see what is coming. Can
they see now? Let them speak.”
“I see now, and so do I, and I and I,” eagerly responded
and repeated, one after another, the whole band of
Seers. “Mixitli will be propitiated. He will interpose
his power between us and the foe, who will be scattered
to the winds. All this is now plainly prefigured in the
spirit heavens, as they open to our view. Rejoice! rejoice!
the city is saved!”
“Ay, the city is saved!” echoed the Priests in full
chorus.
“Especially so, if the God of Hell has his victim the
night following the sacrifice to the God of War,” interposed
the persistent priest of the grim deity he represented,
“and I earnestly recommend that it be so ordered.”
“I order it then,” said the King, “so that the last obstacle
to our salvation may be removed.”
“'Tis done then,” “proclaim it to the people,” the
in with a measure which both seers and priests had so
emphatically pronounced the saving one.
And the whole assemblage then fell to congratulating
each other on what they called the auspicious issue of the
debate; when with a feeling of relief, like that of those
finding themselves in safety after narrowly escaping great
danger, they immediately separated, and, rejoicing in
their self-delusion, hastened home to spread the good news
among the people.
| CHAPTER VI. Centeola | |