University of Virginia Library

6. CHAPTER VI.
IN THE LEAGUER.

BY and by a Spaniard came out through the main gateway
of the palace; after brief leave-taking with the
guard there, he walked rapidly down the street. The 'tzin,
observing that the man was equipped for a journey, surmised
him to be a courier, and smiled at the confidence of
the master who sent him forth alone at such a time.

The courier went his way, and the great movement proceeded.

After a while Hualpa and Io' came down from the turret
where, under the urn of fire, they too had been watching,
and the former said, —

“Your orders, O 'tzin, are executed. The armies all
stand halted at the gates of the city, and at the outlet
of each canal I saw a division of canoes lying in wait.”

The 'tzin looked up at the sun, then past meridian, and replied,
“It is well. When the chiefs see but one smoke from
this temple they will enter the city. Go, therefore, and
put out all the fires except that of Huitzil'.”

And soon but one smoke was to be seen.

A little afterwards there was a loud cry from the street,
and, looking down, the 'tzin saw the Spanish courier, without
morion or lance, staggering as he ran, and shouting.
Instantly the great gate was flung open, and the man taken
in; and instantly a trumpet rang out, and then another and
another. Guatamozin sprang up. The alarm-note thrilled
him no less than the Christians.

The palace, before so slumberous, became alive. The
Tlascalans poured from the sheds, that at places lined the
interior of the parapet, and from the main building forth
rushed the Spaniards, — bowmen, slingers, and arquebusiers;
and the gunners took post by their guns, while the cavalry
clothed their horses, and stood by the bridles. There was
no tumult, no confusion; and when the 'tzin saw them in
their places — placid, confident, ready — his heart beat
hard: he would win, — on that he was resolved, — but
ah, at what mighty cost!

Soon, half drowned by the voices of the captains mustering
the enemy below, he heard another sound rising from
every quarter of the city, but deeper and more sustained,
where the great columns marched. He listened intently.

Though far and faint, he recognized the susurrante, — literally
the commingled war-cries of almost all the known fighting
tribes of the New World. The chiefs were faithful;
they were coming, — by the canals, and up and down the
great streets, they were coming; and he listened, measuring
their speed by the growing distinctness of the clamor. As
they came nearer, he became confident, then eager. Suddenly,
everything, — objects far and near, the old palace, and
the hated flags, the lake, and the purple distance, and the
unflecked sky, — all melted into mist, for he looked at them
through tears. So the Last of the 'Tzins welcomed his
tawny legions.

While he indulged the heroic weakness, Io' and Hualpa
rejoined him. About the same time Cortes and some of his
cavaliers appeared on the azoteas of the central and higher
part of the palace. They were in armor, but with raised
visors, and seemed to be conjecturing one with another, and
listening to the portentous sounds that now filled the welkin.
And as the 'tzin, in keen enjoyment, watched the
wonder that plainly possessed the enemy, there was a flutter
of gay garments upon the palace, and two women joined
the party.

“Nenetzin!” said Io', in a low voice.

“Nenetzin!” echoed Hualpa.

And sharper grew his gaze, while down stooped the sun
to illumine the face of the faithless, as, smiling the old
smile, she rested lovingly upon Alvarado's arm. He turned
away, and covered his head. But soon a hand was laid
upon his shoulder, and he heard a voice, — the voice of the
'tzin, —

“Lord Hualpa, as once before you were charged, I charge
you now. With your own hand make the signal. Io' will
bring you the word. Go now.” Then the voice sunk to a
whisper. “Patience, comrade. The days for many to come

will be days of opportunity. Already the wrong-doer is in
the toils; yet a little longer. Patience!”

The noise of the infidels had now come to be a vast
uproar, astonishing to the bravest of the listeners. Even
Cortes shared the common feeling. That war was intended
he knew; but he had not sufficiently credited the Aztec
genius. The whole valley appeared to be in arms. His face
became a shade more ashy as he thought, either this was
of the king, or the people were capable of grand action
without the king; and he griped his sword-hand hard in
emphasis of the oath he swore, to set the monarch and his
people face to face; that would he, by his conscience, —
by the blood of the saints!

And as he swore, here and there upon the adjacent houses
armed men showed themselves; and directly the heads of
columns came up, and, turning right and left at the corners,
began to occupy all the streets around the royal enclosure.

If one would fancy what the cavaliers then saw, let him
first recall the place. It was in the heart of the city. Eastward
arose the teocallis, — a terraced hill in fact, and every
terrace a vantage-point. On all other sides of the palace were
edifices each higher than its highest part; and each fronted
with a wall resembling a parapet, except that its outer face
was in general richly ornamented with fretwork and mouldings
and arches and grotesque corbals and cantilevers.
Every roof was occupied by infidels; over the sculptured
walls they looked down into the fortress, if I may so call it,
of the strangers.

As the columns marched and countermarched in the
streets thus beautifully bounded, they were a spectacle of
extraordinary animation. Over them played the semi-transparent
shimmer or thrill of air, so to speak, peculiar to armies
in rapid movement, — curious effect of changing colors and
multitudinous motion. The Christians studied them with

an interest inappreciable to such as have never known the
sensations of a soldier watching the foe taking post for
combat.

Of arms there were in the array every variety known to
the Aztecan service, — the long bow; the javelin; slings of
the ancient fashion, fitted for casting stones a pound or more
in weight; the maquahuitl, limited to the officers; and here
and there long lances with heads of bronze or sharpened flint.
The arms, it must be confessed, added little to the general
appearance of the mass, — a deficiency amply compensated
by the equipments. The quivers of the bowmen, and the
pouches of the slingers, and the broad straps that held them
to the person were brilliantly decorated. Equally striking
were the costumes of the several branches of the service:
the fillet, holding back the long, straight hair, and full of
feathers, mostly of the eagle and turkey, though not unfrequently
of the ostrich, — costly prizes come, in the way of
trade, from the far llanos of the south; the escaupil, of brightest
crimson; the shield, faced with brazen plates, and edged
with flying tufts of buffalo hair, and sometimes with longer
and brighter locks, the gift of a mistress or a trophy of war.
These articles, though half barbaric, lost nothing by contrast
with the naked, dark-brown necks and limbs of the warriors,
— lithe and stately men, from whom the officers were distinguished
by helmets of hideous device and mantles indescribably
splendid. Over all shone the ensigns, indicia of the
tribes: here a shining sphere; there a star, or a crescent, or
a radial sun; but most usually a floating cloth covered with
blazonry.

With each company marched a number of priests, bareheaded
and frocked, and a corps of musicians, of whom some
blew unearthly discords from conchs, while others clashed
cymbals, and beat atabals fashioned like the copper tam-tams
of the Hindoos.

Even the marching of the companies was peculiar. Instead
of the slow, laborious step of the European, they
came on at a pace which, between sunrise and sunset,
habitually carried them from the bivouac twenty leagues
away.

And as they marched, the ensigns tossed to and fro; the
priests sang monotonous canticles; the cymbalists danced
and leaped joyously at the head of their companies; and the
warriors in the ranks flung their shields aloft, and yelled
their war-cries, as if drunk with happiness.

As the inundation of war swept around the palace, a cavalier
raised his eyes to the temple.

“Valgame Dios!” he cried, in genuine alarm. “The
levies of the valley are not enough. Lo, the legions of the
air!”

On the azoteas where but the moment before only the 'tzin
and Io' were to be seen, there were hundreds of caparisoned
warriors; and as the Christians looked at them, they all
knelt, leaving but one man standing; simultaneously the
companies on the street stopped, and, with those on the
house-tops, hushed their yells, and turned up to him their
faces countless and glistening.

“Who is he?” the cavaliers asked each other.

Cortes, cooler than the rest, turned to Marina: “Ask the
princess Nenetzin if she knows him.”

And Nenetzin answered, —

“The 'tzin Guatamo.”

As the two chiefs surveyed each other in full recognition,
down from the sky, as it were, broke an intonation so deep
that the Christians were startled, and the women fled from
the roof.

“Ola!” cried Alvarado, with a laugh. “I have heard
that thunder before. Down with your visors, gentlemen, as
ye care for the faces your mothers love!”

Three times Hualpa struck the great drum in the sanctuary
of Huitzil'; and as the last intonation rolled down over the
city the clamor of the infidels broke out anew, and into
the enclosure of the palace they poured a cloud of missiles
so thick that place of safety there was not anywhere outside
the building.

To this time the garrison had kept silence; now, standing
each at his post, they answered. In the days of the former
siege, besides preparing banquettes for the repulsion of escalades,
they had pierced the outer walls, generally but little
higher than a man's head, with loop-holes and embrasures,
out of which the guns, great and small, were suddenly pointed
and discharged. No need of aim; outside, not farther than
the leap of the flames, stood the assailants. The effect,
especially of the artillery, was dreadful; and the prodigious
noise, and the dense, choking smoke, stupefied and blinded
the masses, so unused to such enginery. And from the wall
they shrank staggering, and thousands turned to fly; but in
pressed the chiefs and the priests, and louder rose the clangor
of conchs and cymbals: the very density of the multitude
helped stay the panic.

And down from the temple came the 'tzin, not merely to
give the effect of his presence, but to direct the assault. In
the sanctuary he had arrayed himself; his escaupil and tilmatli,
of richest feather-work, fairly blazed; his helm and
shield sparkled; and behind, scarcely less splendid, walked
Io' and Hualpa. He crossed the street, shouting his war-cry.
At sight of him, men struggling to get away turned to fight
again.

Next the wall of the palace the shrinking of the infidels
had left a clear margin; and there, the better to be seen by
his people, the 'tzin betook himself. In front of the embrasures
he cleared the lines of fire, so that the guns were
often ineffectual; he directed attention to the loopholes, so

that the appearance of an arbalist or arquebus drew a hundred
arrows to the spot. Taught by his example, the warriors
found that under the walls there was a place of safety;
then he set them to climbing; for that purpose some stuck
their javelins in the cracks of the masonry; some formed
groups over which others raised themselves; altogether the
crest of the wall was threatened in a thousand places,
insomuch that the Tlascalans occupied themselves exclusively
in its defence; and as often as one raised to strike a climber
down, he made himself a target for the quick bowmen on
the opposite houses.

And so, wherever the 'tzin went he inspired his countrymen;
the wounded, and the many dead and dying, and
the blood maddened instead of daunting them. They
rained missiles into the enclosure; upon the wall they fought
hand to hand with the defenders; in their inconsiderate fury,
many leaped down inside, and perished instantly, — but all
in vain.

Then the 'tzin had great timbers brought up, thinking to
batter in the parapet. Again and again they were hurled
against the face of the masonry, but without effect.

Yet another resort. He had balls of cotton steeped in oil
shot blazing into the palace-yard. Against the building, and
on its tiled roof, they fell harmless. It happened, however,
that the sheds in which the Tlascalans quartered consisted
almost entirely of reeds, with roofs of rushes and palm-leaves;
they burst into flames. Water could not be spared
by the garrison, for the drought was great; in the extremity,
the Tlascalans and many Christians were drawn from the defences,
and set to casting earth upon the new enemy. Hundreds
of the former were killed or disabled. The flames
spread to the wooden outworks of the wall. The smoke
almost blotted out the day. After a while a part of the wall
fell down, and the infidels rushed in; a steady fire of arquebuses

swept them away, and choked the chasm with the
slain; still others braved the peril; company after company
dashed into the fatal snare uselessly, as waves roll forward
and spend themselves in the gorge of a sea-wall.

The conflict lasted without abatement through long hours.
The sun went down. In the twilight the great host withdrew,
— all that could. The smoke from the conflagration
and guns melted into the shades of night; and the stars,
mild-eyed as ever, came out one by one to see the wrecks
heaped and ghastly lying in the bloody street and palace-yard.

All night the defenders lay upon their arms, or, told off in
working parties, labored to restore the breach.

All night the infidels collected their dead and wounded,
thousands in number. They did not offer to attack, — custom
forbade that; yet over the walls they sent their vengeful
warnings.

All night the listening sentinels on the parapet noted the
darkness filled with sounds of preparation from every quarter
of the city. And they crossed themselves, and muttered
the names of saints and good angels, and thought shudderingly
of the morrow.