THE BATTLE OF THE MANTAS.
The report of a gun awoke the 'tzin in the morning. The great uproar of
the assault, now become familiar to him, filled the chamber. He knelt on
the step and prayed, for there was a cloud upon his spirit, and over the
idol's stony face there seemed to be a cloud. He put on his helm and
mantle; at the door Hualpa offered him his arms.
"No," he said, "bring me those we took from the stranger."
Hualpa marked the gravity of his manner, and with a rising heart and a
smile, the first seen on his lips for many a day, he brought a Spanish
shield and battle-axe, and gave them to him.
Then the din below, bursting out in greater volume, drew the 'tzin to
the verge of the temple. The warriors made way for him reverently. He
looked down into the square, and through a veil of smoke semilucent saw
Cortes and his cavaliers charge the ranks massed in front of the palace
gate. The gate stood open, and a crowd of the Tlascalans were pouring
out of the portal, hauling one of the towers whose construction had been
the mystery of the days last passed; they bent low to the work, and
cheered each other with their war-cries; yet the _manta_--so called by
Cortes--moved slowly, as if loath to leave. In the same manner the other
tower was drawn out of the court; then, side by side, both were started
down the street, which they filled so nearly that room was hardly left
for the detachments that guarded the Tlascalans on the flanks.
The fighting ceased, and silently the enemies stared at the
spectacle,--such power is there in curiosity.
At sight of the structures, rolling, rocking, rumbling, and creaking
dismally in every wheel, Cortes' eyes sparkled fire-like through his
visor. The 'tzin, on the other hand, was disturbed and anxious, although
outwardly calm; for the objects of the common wonder were enclosed on
every side, and he knew as little what they contained as of their use
and operation.
Slowly they rolled on, until past the intersection of the streets; there
they stopped. Right and left of them were beautiful houses covered with
warriors for the moment converted into spectators. A hush of expectancy
everywhere prevailed. The 'tzin shaded his eyes with his hand, and leant
eagerly forward. Suddenly, from the sides of the machine next the walls,
masked doors dropped out, and guns, charged to the muzzle, glared over
the house-tops, then swept them with fire.
A horrible scream flew along the street and up to the _azoteas_ of the
temple; at the same time, by ladders extended to the coping of the
walls, the Christians leaped on the roofs, like boarders on a ship's
deck, and mastered them at once; whereupon they returned, and were about
taking in the ladders, when Cortes galloped back, and, riding from one
to the other, shouted,--
"Ordas! Avila! _Mirad!_ Where are the torches I gave ye? Out again!
Leave not a stone to shelter the dogs! Leave nothing but ashes! _Pronto,
pronto!_"
The captains answered promptly. With _flambeaux_ of resinous pine and
cotton, they fired all the wood-work of the interior of the buildings.
Smoke burst from the doors and windows; then the detachments retreated,
and were rolled on without the loss of a man.
Behind the _mantas_ there was a strong rear-guard of infantry and
artillery; with which, and the guards on the flanks, and the cavaliers
forcing way at the front, it seemed impossible to avert, or even
interrupt, an attack at once so novel and successful.
The smoke from the burning houses, momentarily thickening and widening,
was seen afar, and by the heathen hailed with cries of alarm: not so
Cortes; riding everywhere, in the van, to the rear, often stopping by
the _mantas_, which he regarded with natural affection, as an artist
does his last work, he tasted the joy of successful genius. The smoke
rising, as it were, to Heaven, carried up his vows not to stop until the
city, with all its idolatries, was a heap of ashes and lime,--a
holocaust to the Mother such as had never been seen. The cheeriness of
his constant cry, "_Christo, Christo y Santiago!_" communicated to his
people, and they marched laughing and fighting.
Opposition had now almost ceased; at the approach of the _mantas_, the
house-tops were given up without resistance. A general panic appeared to
have seized the pagans; they even vacated the street, so that the
cavaliers had little else to do than ride leisurely, turning now and
then to see the fires behind them, and the tall machines come lumbering
on.
As remarked, when the _mantas_ stopped at the intersection of the
streets, the 'tzin watched them eagerly, for he knew the time had come
to make their use manifest; he saw a door drop, and the jet of flame and
smoke leap from a gun; he heard the cry of agony from the house-tops,
and the deeper cry from all the people; to the chiefs around him he
said, with steady voice, and as became a leader,--
"Courage, friends! We have them now. Malinche is mad to put his people
in such traps. Lord Hualpa, go round the place of combat and see that
the first bridge is impassable; for there, unless the towers have wings,
and can fly, they must stop. And to you, Io'," he spoke to the lad
tenderly, "I give a command and sacred trust. Stay here, and take care
of the gods."
Io' kissed his hand, and said, fervently, "May the gods care for me as I
will for them!"
To other chiefs, calling them by name, he gave directions for the
renewal of the assault on the palace, now weakened by the sortie, and
for the concentration of fresh companies in the rear of the enemy, to
contest their return.
"And now, my good lord," he said to a cacique, gray-headed, but of
magnificent frame, "you have a company of Tezcucans, formerly the guards
of king Cacama's palace. Bring them, and follow me. Come."
A number of houses covering quite half a square were by this time on
fire. Those of wood burned furiously; the morning, however, was almost
breathless, so that the cinders did little harm. On the left side of the
street stood a building of red stone, its front profusely carved, and
further ornamented with a marble portico,--a palace, in fact, massively
built, and somewhat higher than the _mantas_. Its entrances were
barricaded, and on the roof, where an enemy might be looked for, there
was not a spear, helm, or sign of life, except some fan-palms and long
banana-branches. Before the stately front the _mantas_ were at length
hauled. Immediately the door on that side was dropped, and the ladder
fixed, and Avila, who had the command, started with his followers to
take possession and apply the torch. Suddenly, the coping of the
palace-front flamed with feathered helms and points of bronze.
Avila was probably as skilful and intrepid as any of Cortes' captains;
but now he was surprised: directly before him stood Guatamozin, whom
every Spaniard had come to know and respect as the most rodoubted of all
the warriors of Anahuac; and he shone on the captain a truly martial
figure, confronting him with Spanish arms, a shield with a face of iron
and a battle-axe of steel. Avila hesitated; and as he did so, the end of
the ladder was lifted from the wall, poised a moment in the air, then
flung off.
The 'tzin had not time to observe the effect of the fall, for a score of
men came quickly up, bringing a beam of wood as long and large as the
spar of a brigantine; a trailing rope at its further end strengthened
the likeness. Resting the beam on the coping of the wall, at a word,
they plunged it forward against the _manta_, which rocked under the
blow. A yell of fear issued from within. The Tlascalans strove to haul
the machine away, but the Tezcucans from their height tossed logs and
stones upon them, crushing many to death, and putting the rest in such
fear that their efforts were vain. Meantime, the beam was again shot
forward over the coping, and with such effect that the roof of the
_manta_ sprang from its fastenings, and nearly toppled off.
The handiwork so rudely treated was not as stout as the ships Martin
Lopez sailed on the lake. It was simply a square tower, two stories
high, erected on wheels. The frame was enclosed with slabs, pinned on
vertically, and pierced with loopholes. On the sides there were
apertures defended by doors. The roof, sloping hip-fashion, had an outer
covering of undressed skins as protection against fire. The lower floor
was for the Tlascalans, should they be driven from the drag-ropes; in
the second story there was a gun, some arquebusiers, and a body of
pikemen to storm the house-tops; so that altogether the contrivance
could hardly stand hauling over the street, much less a battery like
that it was then receiving. At the third blow it became an untenable
wreck.
"Avila!" cried Cortes. "Where art thou?"
The good captain, with four of his bravest men, lay insensible, if not
dead, under the ladder.
"Mercy, O Mother of God, mercy!" groaned Cortes; next moment he was
himself again.
"What do ye here, men? Out and away before these timbers tumble and
crush ye!"
One man stayed.
"The gun, Señor, the gun!" he protested.
Spurring close to the door, Cortes said, "As thou art a Christian, get
thee down, comrade, and quickly. I can better spare the gun than so good
a gunner."
Then the beam came again, and, with a great crash, tore away the side of
the _manta_. The gun rolled backward, and burst through the opposite
wall of the room. The veteran disappeared.
By this time all eyes were turned to the scene. The bowmen and
arquebusiers in the column exerted themselves to cover their unfortunate
comrades. Upon the neighboring houses a few infidels, on the watch,
yelled joyously,--"The 'tzin! the 'tzin!" From them the shout, spread
through the cowering army, became, indeed, a battle-cry significant of
success.
To me, good reader, the miracles of the world, if any there be, are not
the things men do in masses, but the sublimer things done by one man
over the many; they testify most loudly of God, since without him they
could not have been. I am too good a Christian to say this of a
heathen; nevertheless, without the 'tzin his country had perished that
morning. Back to the roofs came the defenders, into the street poured
the companies again; no leisure now for the cavaliers. With the other
_manta_ Ordas moved on gallantly, but the work was hard; at some houses
he failed, others he dared not attack. From front to rear the contest
became a battle. In the low places of the street and pavement the blood
flowed warm, then cooled in blackening pools. The smoke of the consuming
houses, distinguishable from that of the temples, collected into a
cloud, and hung wide-spread over the combat. The yells of Christians and
infidels, fusing into a vast monotone, roared like the sea. Twice Mesa
went to the front,--the cavaliers had need of him,--twice he returned to
the rear.
The wrath of the Aztecs seemed especially directed against the
Tlascalans tugging at the ropes of the _manta_; as a consequence, their
quilted armor was torn to rags, and so many of them were wounded, so
many killed, that at every stoppage the wheels were more difficult to
start; and to make the movement still more slow and uncertain, the
carcasses of the dead had to be rolled or carried out of the way; and
the dead, sooth to say, were not always Aztecs.
Luis Marin halted to breathe.
"_Ola, compañero!_ What dost thou there?"
"By all the saints!" answered Alvarado, on foot, tightening his
saddle-girth. "Was ever the like? It hath been strike, strike,--kill,
kill,--for an hour. I am dead in the right arm from finger to shoulder.
And now here is a buckle that refuseth its work. _Caramba!_ My glove is
slippery with blood!"
And so step by step,--each one bought with a life,--the Christians won
their way to the first bridge: the floor was gone! Cortes reined his
horse, bloody from hoof to frontlet, by the edge of the chasm. Since
daybreak fighting, and but a square gained! The water, never so placid,
was the utmost limit of his going. He looked at the _manta_, now, like
that of Avila, a mocking failure. He looked again, and a blasphemy
beyond the absolution of Olmedo, I fear, broke the clenching of his
jaws,--not for the machines, or the hopes they had raised, but the days
their construction lost him. As he looked, through a rift in the cloud
still rising along the battle's track, he saw the great temple; gay
banners and gorgeous regalia, all the splendor of barbaric war, filled
that view, and inspired him. To the cavaliers, close around and in
waiting, he turned. The arrows smote his mail and theirs, yet he raised
his visor: the face was calm, even smiling, for the will is a quality
apart from mind and passion.
"We will go back, gentlemen," he said. "The city is on fire,--enough for
one day. And hark ye, gentlemen. We have had enough of common blood. Let
us go now and see of what the heathen gods are made."
His hearers were in the mood; they raised their shields and shouted,--
"To the temple! To the temple! For the love of Christ, to the temple!"
The cry sped down the column; and as the men caught its meaning they
faced about of their own will. Wounds, weariness, and disappointments
were forgotten; the rudest soldier became a zealot on the instant. _Al
templo! Adelante, adelante!_ rose like a new chorus, piercing the
battle's monotone.
Cortes stood in his stirrups, and lo! the enemy, ranked close, like corn
in the full ear, yet outreaching his vision,--plumed, bannered,
brilliant, and terrible.
"Close and steady, swords of the Church! What ye see is but grass for
the cutting. Yonder is the temple we seek. Follow me. _Adelante! Christo
y Santiago!_"
So saying, he spurred in deep amongst the infidels.