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.