Lays and Legends or Ballads of the New World By G. W. Thornbury |
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| IX. | No. IX.
THE DESCENT OF THE VOLCANO. |
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 | Lays and Legends or Ballads of the New World |  |
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No. IX. THE DESCENT OF THE VOLCANO.
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[One of the most chivalrous acts of heroism perhaps ever performed by man, was the descent of Francisco Montano, a noble cavalier in the army of Cortes, into the crater of the great volcano, Topocatepall, which towers above the chain of snowcovered mountains that separate Mexico from Puebla. Lowered in a basket 400 feet down the ghastly depths of the flaming abyss, he gathered sulphur sufficient to manufacture a supply of powder for the use of Cortes' army. What could resist men who made even the most fearful of nature's prodigies thus supply their wants?]
The Spanish host from Cholula came at the midnight hour,
From where o'er the plain of the five broad lakes the snowy volcans tower;
And in the court of the temple, stretched on the paved ground,
Lay groups of friendly Tlascalans the blazing watch-fires round;
And the jests flew fast, and the biting scoff, and the burst of the Indian song,
And many a tale the Spaniards told, to speed the night along.
From where o'er the plain of the five broad lakes the snowy volcans tower;
And in the court of the temple, stretched on the paved ground,
Lay groups of friendly Tlascalans the blazing watch-fires round;
And the jests flew fast, and the biting scoff, and the burst of the Indian song,
And many a tale the Spaniards told, to speed the night along.
They talked of the fight at Cholula, when, like the trembling hare,
The cacique fell, by an unknown hand, caught in the hunter's snare;
When through the clouds of sulphurous smoke, that friend and foe had hid,
Cortes sprang up the blazing stairs of the giant pyramid;
And when with a shout of holy joy they reared the blessed rood,
On the spot where the blood-stained idol in scorn of God had stood.
The cacique fell, by an unknown hand, caught in the hunter's snare;
When through the clouds of sulphurous smoke, that friend and foe had hid,
Cortes sprang up the blazing stairs of the giant pyramid;
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On the spot where the blood-stained idol in scorn of God had stood.
And they praised the chief whose daring had hurled the blazing brand,
And burnt the fleet to ashes, as they leapt upon the strand;
And they mocked the senseless humming-bird that to its flower-built nest
Bade the blood-bestained vulture as a great and favoured guest.
But the wildest tale they heard that night was one Montano told,
Just at the dawn of morning, when the night damp's falling cold.
And burnt the fleet to ashes, as they leapt upon the strand;
And they mocked the senseless humming-bird that to its flower-built nest
Bade the blood-bestained vulture as a great and favoured guest.
But the wildest tale they heard that night was one Montano told,
Just at the dawn of morning, when the night damp's falling cold.
“'Twas on the eve of Cholula that Cortes bade me seek
For sulphur in the crater of the volcan's snowy peak,
Where the Indians think, in a deep abyss, lies an entrance to hell;
For they say in the copper mountains the howling spirits dwell;
And with Pedro, and with Guzman, long ere the dawn of day,
Through the dark pine forest toiling, we slowly made our way;
For sulphur in the crater of the volcan's snowy peak,
Where the Indians think, in a deep abyss, lies an entrance to hell;
For they say in the copper mountains the howling spirits dwell;
And with Pedro, and with Guzman, long ere the dawn of day,
Through the dark pine forest toiling, we slowly made our way;
“Through woods that hung with Indian fruits, past tracts of golden maize,
Till moss and short thick yellow grass alone met anxious gaze;
And soon we left beneath our feet of man all pleasant trace;
Nothing but stunted bushes grew in that dreary place;
And all around is mountain, like some great frozen sea
Upheaved in stormy billows,—boundless they seemed to be.
Till moss and short thick yellow grass alone met anxious gaze;
And soon we left beneath our feet of man all pleasant trace;
Nothing but stunted bushes grew in that dreary place;
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Upheaved in stormy billows,—boundless they seemed to be.
“But the icy wind, whose snowy blast poured down the sleet and hail,
Pierced chill through cotton doublet, and through the metal mail.
Long since the sunny land of flowers, and the hot clime, we lost,—
Now slowly dawned before us the land of eternal frost;
And still on helm the sleet and snow the mountain spirit hurled.
While the forest, with its spreading shade, seemed to hide us from the world;
Pierced chill through cotton doublet, and through the metal mail.
Long since the sunny land of flowers, and the hot clime, we lost,—
Now slowly dawned before us the land of eternal frost;
And still on helm the sleet and snow the mountain spirit hurled.
While the forest, with its spreading shade, seemed to hide us from the world;
“And before us rose the mountain top, where gleams the last sun's ray,—
Strange awful spot from whence to see the dawning of the day.
From such a peak gazed Jesus, with Satan by his side,
O'er city, isle and continent, and all the great world's pride.
On such a mount in glory stood He who from heaven came,
When there shone a light in the sky above, and angels breathed His name.
Strange awful spot from whence to see the dawning of the day.
From such a peak gazed Jesus, with Satan by his side,
O'er city, isle and continent, and all the great world's pride.
On such a mount in glory stood He who from heaven came,
When there shone a light in the sky above, and angels breathed His name.
“On such a mount the prophet stood when he looked to south and north,
And gazing on the crowded tents he poured his blessing forth.
And above us lie the mountains, the kings of the granite chain,
Who, with the fiery volcans, are guardians of the plain,
And the cold and trembling Indians who clung to Guzman's side,
Said that the snowy mountain was the granite monster's bride;
And gazing on the crowded tents he poured his blessing forth.
And above us lie the mountains, the kings of the granite chain,
Who, with the fiery volcans, are guardians of the plain,
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Said that the snowy mountain was the granite monster's bride;
“Great porphyry pillars of the world, that join the earth and sky,
In rival pride of greatness,—some Titan reared them high.
And now we brace us to the task, and mount the flaming tower,
So bare the track, no yellow bee hums o'er the aloe's flower.
And the splintered crags of porphyry are seared and thunder-rent,
O'er chasms deep as a mountain, the foaming torrents went.
In rival pride of greatness,—some Titan reared them high.
And now we brace us to the task, and mount the flaming tower,
So bare the track, no yellow bee hums o'er the aloe's flower.
And the splintered crags of porphyry are seared and thunder-rent,
O'er chasms deep as a mountain, the foaming torrents went.
“On the blasted peak the snow-wreath lies, untouched by the fierce sun's ray,
Unmelted, save where o'er the ice the lava burns a way.
Sweet is the night-dew's fragrance on the wide-spread Aztec plain,
To the scorching showers of ashes, and the lava's fiery rain.
Beneath our feet the lightning for itself a passage wore,
And the trembling throb of the earthquake gave out a sullen roar;
Unmelted, save where o'er the ice the lava burns a way.
Sweet is the night-dew's fragrance on the wide-spread Aztec plain,
To the scorching showers of ashes, and the lava's fiery rain.
Beneath our feet the lightning for itself a passage wore,
And the trembling throb of the earthquake gave out a sullen roar;
“And the thunder, like the mountain's voice, howled with an echo deep,
As if to rouse the demons from their centuries of sleep.
Then the Indians swore by their cursed gods, and by the volcan's fire,
That though we turned and slew them, they would not mount up higher.
‘None but a madman,’ muttered they, ‘would thus defile the shrine,
Where the fire-god, clothed in his pomp, shows like a king divine.’
As if to rouse the demons from their centuries of sleep.
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That though we turned and slew them, they would not mount up higher.
‘None but a madman,’ muttered they, ‘would thus defile the shrine,
Where the fire-god, clothed in his pomp, shows like a king divine.’
“So we left the shivering wretches there, and through the lava sand,
Crept up, by dint of eager foot, and ever grasping hand.
And the lava lay a molten sea, congealed by frozen air.
In a thousand forms of wonder; its course was stayed there;
And now before our aching sight lay a wide and icy tract,
Bright seemed the lustre of its glare beside the lava black.
Crept up, by dint of eager foot, and ever grasping hand.
And the lava lay a molten sea, congealed by frozen air.
In a thousand forms of wonder; its course was stayed there;
And now before our aching sight lay a wide and icy tract,
Bright seemed the lustre of its glare beside the lava black.
“And above us gaped the chasm, whose depth no eye could trace,
And above us shone the ceaseless fire, whose blaze lit each paled face;
And the Indians deemed us sorcerers, whose toil and livelong strife
Would tear from the hostile demon, eternity of life.
And rarer still and colder grew the chill mountain air,
Scarce can the overburdened breast the weight of the doublet bear.
And above us shone the ceaseless fire, whose blaze lit each paled face;
And the Indians deemed us sorcerers, whose toil and livelong strife
Would tear from the hostile demon, eternity of life.
And rarer still and colder grew the chill mountain air,
Scarce can the overburdened breast the weight of the doublet bear.
“Before us, like a great dark lake, the volcan's crater lay,
Its lava waves were seething with a dull and ruddy ray;
In a ceaseless stream, in a burning flood, in a never-ending glow,
The spark-lit smoke is rising, and the lava torrents flow;
And high on that untrod mountain's top, on that high and scathed cone,
Wrapped in a black and lurid cloud a spirit sits alone.
Its lava waves were seething with a dull and ruddy ray;
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The spark-lit smoke is rising, and the lava torrents flow;
And high on that untrod mountain's top, on that high and scathed cone,
Wrapped in a black and lurid cloud a spirit sits alone.
“Blind with the glare, and almost scorched by the crater's torrid breath,
We offered a prayer to the God of peace, bethinking us of death;
But even there, in that desert wild, and on that lofty peak,
God with an eye of pity looked down upon the weak;
He heard,—for the wind, with a scornful blast, drove the lava river back,
And left to the smoking crater's mouth a bare and withered track.
We offered a prayer to the God of peace, bethinking us of death;
But even there, in that desert wild, and on that lofty peak,
God with an eye of pity looked down upon the weak;
He heard,—for the wind, with a scornful blast, drove the lava river back,
And left to the smoking crater's mouth a bare and withered track.
“Then quick again, ere that flood should come, we lowered the basket down.
Few would have ventured footstep there,—no! not to win a crown.
Hung over hot boiling tide of fire, and fusing wave of gold,
I sought the sulphur drops that clung to the side of the demon hold;
Like serpents that strive to reach a bird, the veins of metal twined
On the calcined sides of that furnace, cracked with the chilling wind.
Few would have ventured footstep there,—no! not to win a crown.
Hung over hot boiling tide of fire, and fusing wave of gold,
I sought the sulphur drops that clung to the side of the demon hold;
Like serpents that strive to reach a bird, the veins of metal twined
On the calcined sides of that furnace, cracked with the chilling wind.
“Fierce breathed the flame, near rolled its tide,—I crossed my pallid brow
As I felt of the ebbing tide of fire the hot returning glow.
I swooned when I reached the crater's brink, safe from that burning wave,
And saw fond faces gaze on me as risen from the grave;
“And my silent heart the great God praised, though I had not strength to speak,
As again I felt the mountain breeze upon my heated cheek.
And I kissed the cross-hilt of my sword, upon the mountain side,
As back my load to the cheering camp I bore with a victor's pride.”
As I felt of the ebbing tide of fire the hot returning glow.
I swooned when I reached the crater's brink, safe from that burning wave,
And saw fond faces gaze on me as risen from the grave;
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As again I felt the mountain breeze upon my heated cheek.
And I kissed the cross-hilt of my sword, upon the mountain side,
As back my load to the cheering camp I bore with a victor's pride.”
| Lays and Legends or Ballads of the New World | |