A history of moral epidemics, drawn up by a philosophic pen, would add
much to our knowledge of the mysteries of human character and human
power, as well as of the probable contingencies of human destiny. In the
prosecution of such a subject, besides tracing the development of those
little causes which, in former days, have spread their effects from man
to man, until whole communities have laboured under a disease resulting
in revolutions of the most stupendous nature, we should, doubtless,
perceive many of those points of susceptibility and chains of impulsion,
which render men the creatures of change; and which, being definitely
understood and wisely influenced, might at once put it in the power of
philanthropists to govern the operations of reform in such manner as to
avoid the evils of ill-considered innovation. Religion and liberty have
both come to us as diseases; and the propagation of them throughout the
lands of the heathen and the slave, is yet a measure of pain and peril,
because we have not considered, or not yet learned, how to address
ourselves to infirmity. What man will not say, that the enthusiasm which
cumbered the sands of Syria with the blood of the Crusaders, might not,
if properly directed, have brought light and happiness to all Europe? or
that the fever, which has left the revolution of France a horror on the
page of history, might not, under the guidance of a less speculative
philosophy, have covered her valleys and filled her cities with security
and peace? Enthusiasm comes and goes; and because we know not enough of
its weak and governable qualities to direct it in the paths of justice
and virtue, it is allowed yet to fill the world with wrong and misery;
and, misapplied to the purposes of glory, avarice, and fanaticism, the
engine which God has given us to advance our civilization, is still the
preserver of barbarism.
In the facility with which the aboriginal empires of America were
subverted by a handful of hotheaded Spaniards, mankind has been willing
to find a proof of the savage imperfection of their institutions. In the
case of Mexico, at least, this testimony is deceptive. If we remember
that the tribes of Anahuac, like the other races of America, were
struggling against obstacles which did not impede the advancement of
other nations, we shall be surprised at the point of civilization they
had reached. Heaven had denied all the useful domestic animals to
America. The bison, which is perhaps not altogether untameable, roamed
only over the prairies and the forest lands of the north, among tribes
that were yet in the bottom class of humanity. The horse and the ass
added not their strength to the labours of man, and the little llama,
bearing the burden of its master over the icy Cordilleras of the south,
was but a poor substitute for the camel of the desert, to which it has
been compared. Accident, or the knowledge of a thousand years, can alone
teach men the use of that metal which will bring him civilization, when
gold will not buy it; but the discovery even of the properties of iron
will soon follow the invention of an alphabet, however rude or
hieroglyphic. The Mexicans could already record and perpetuate their
discoveries. Without the aid of iron and domestic animals, they were
advancing in refinement. Civilization had dawned, and was shedding a
light, constantly augmenting, over their valleys; and, apart from these
deficiencies, saving only, perhaps, additionally, in the article of
religion, which was not yet purged of its abominations, (and which,
_perhaps_, flung more annual victims on the altars than did, in after
days, even the superstition of their conquerors, in Spain,) the Mexican
empire was not far behind some of the monarchies of Europe in that
method, purpose, and stability of institutions, both political and
domestic, which are esteemed the evidences of civilization.
A moral epidemic nerved the arm of the invaders, another paralyzed the
strength of the invaded. Superstition covered the Spaniard with armour
stronger than his iron mail, and left the Mexican naked and defenceless;
and, in addition, the disease of disaffection, creeping from the
extremities to the centre of the empire, added its weight to the
lethargy of religious fear. When Hernan Cortes set out on his march, the
second time, against Tenochtitlan, believing that God had chosen him to
be a scourge to the misbeliever, he knew well that thousands and tens of
thousands of malecontents were burning to join his standard. Mexico was
the Rome of the New World,--a compound of hostile elements, an union of
tribes and states subdued and conjoined by the ambition of a single
city, but not yet so closely cemented as to defy the shocks of a Gothic
irruption. What might have been the condition of the empire of
Montezuma, if the divine ray which conducted the Genoese pilot over the
Atlantic, had been reserved for an adventurer of the present day, it is
impossible to determine; but, it is quite clear, its condition was such
at the time of the invasion, that, had not the indecision of its
monarch, founded on such a conjuncture of coincidences as might have
confounded a more enlightened prince, entirely repressed its powers of
resistance, no armies, raised by the Spanish colonists, or even by their
European master, could have penetrated beyond the shores; and the
destiny of Cortes would have been written in letters as few and as
obscure as those which have recorded the fate of Valdivia among the less
refined, but better united Araucanians of Chili.
The heart of the leader was bold, the spirits of his confederates full
of resolution and hope; and notwithstanding the evil intelligence that
their victims were wakening to a knowledge of their strength, and
confirming their audacity in the blood they had already shed, the united
followers of Narvaez and Hernan Cortes began their march over the
mountains with alacrity and joy.
The novelties and wonders that were each day disclosed, were remarked by
no one with more satisfaction than by Don Amador de Leste. He rejoiced
when, ascending among the mountains, the fens and sand-hills of the
coast were exchanged for picturesque lakes and romantic crags; when the
oak woods and pine forests began to stretch their verdant carpets over
the hill-sides; when, standing among the colossal ruins of some shivered
peak, he cast his eye over glen and valley, glittering with verdure and
fertility, far away to the majestic ridges over whose hazy sides tumbled
the foamy fall, or crept the lazy cloud, while among their gorges
glistened the distant cones of snow. Now he admired the ferns, lifting
their arborescent heads, like palms, among other strange trees; now, as
he exchanged the luxuriant slopes for those volcanic deserts which strew
the base of Perote with lava and cinders, he beheld the broad nopal, and
the gigantic maguey, rearing their massive leaves over the fissures,
while a scorched forest withered and rotted above. Sometimes, while
pursuing his weary way over these mountain _paramos_, or deserts, he
advanced bewildered, as what seemed a fair and spacious lake withdrew
its vapoury waters from before him, and revealed a parched and barren
expanse of sand. The journey was an alternation of mountain and valley,
forest and plain, with sometimes a pleasant little Indian village, and,
twice or thrice, a town of no mean magnitude and splendour, rising in
pleasant nooks among the horrors of the waste.
Over this rugged region it was not possible to drag the ordnance and
heavy stores, with which Cortes was now abundantly provided, without
much labour and delay; and it was not until about the time of the summer
solstice, more than a month after the fall of Zempoala, that, at the
close of a pleasant day, the new invaders laid their eyes, for the first
time, on Tlascala,--the capital of that warlike republic, which, for the
singular object, as certain historians have conjectured, of preserving
an enemy to exercise their armies, as well as to furnish victims for
their gods, the Mexican monarchs permitted to subsist in the heart of
their empire.
The slowness of their march was productive of many advantages to those
particular individuals, whose adventures it is the object of this
history to record. It gave to Don Amador an opportunity to make the
acquaintance of many of his new companions, among whom were some not
unworthy his friendship. The services of the senor Duero were remembered
not without gratitude; and although he reflected, at times, with some
unreasonable disgust, that these denoted as much treachery to a friend
as humanity to a stranger, the attentions of that cavalier were so
sedulously continued, that he could not well refuse him his regard. The
taciturn but ever-resolute Sandoval,--the lofty and savage, but not the
less courteous De Leon,--the fiery De Olid,--the daring De Ordaz, who,
thirsting to accomplish exploits not dreamed of by his confederates, had
clambered among the snowy pinnacles and burning caverns of the great
Volcan, and had thereby won the right, confirmed to him afterwards by
the Spanish king, to carry a fire-mountain for his arms;--these, as well
as divers others of no mean renown, so recommended themselves to the
esteem of the neophyte, that he dismissed much of his preconceived
contempt, and began to consider himself among honourable and estimable
cavaliers. But to none of them did his spirit turn with so much
confidence and affection as to Don Francisco de Morla, a young hidalgo
of his own native town, greatly beloved throughout the army, as a man of
honour and tried courage. In this cavalier a modest carriage was united
to great gayety of disposition, and a warm heart, governed by gentleness
of temper. A milder enthusiasm than that which beset his comrades,
softened him to the barbarians, in whose land he was more desirous to
consider himself a guest than an enemy; and without lacking any
sincerity of devotion to his own faith, he seemed to regard the
ferocious superstitions of the natives with less abhorrence than pity.
He had followed at the side of Cortes from Tobasco to Zempoala; and,
being as observant as brave, was not only able to acquaint Don Amador
with the marvellous events of the invasion,--its perils, sufferings, and
triumphs,--but could also instruct him in many of the remarkable
characteristics of the land and the people.
The effects of this delay on the knight of Rhodes were equally
beneficial, though differently wrought. The paroxysms of lethargy, as
well as the fits of distraction, which, as Don Amador learned from the
faithful Marco, had been many and ungovernable, whenever the excitement
of battle was over, began to vanish under the interest of the society,
and the influence of the careful government of the neophyte; who, from
long acquaintance with his kinsman's eccentricities, had acquired a
power to soothe them. But if such was the influence of Don Amador, the
power of the little Moorish page over his moody moments was still more
remarkable. The sorrows of Jacinto vanished with the capriciousness of
childhood; and perceiving that, in the long and toilsome march, he was
never so far separated from his father that he might not look to see him
at night-fall, he quickly recovered his spirits. Then, as if to express
his gratitude to the good knight who protected him, he studied, with
wonderful diligence and address, how best to please and divert him. With
a thousand pretty stories, chosen with such discretion and prattled with
such eloquence, as often surprised the neophyte;--with countless songs,
which no one could sing with more sweetness, or accompany with more
skill on the lute,--he would seduce the knight from his gloom, and cheat
him out of his melancholy. No dagger shone so brightly as that polished
by the hand of Jacinto; no plume of feathers waved with more grace than
that set by the young Moor on the casque of Don Gabriel. If a
tiger-flower glittered on the path, if a chirimoya put forth its fruit
by the wayside, before the knight could turn his eyes upon them, they
were in his hand; and Jacinto smiled with delight, as he received the
thanks of his patron. The benevolence of Don Gabriel soon changed to
affection; he almost smiled--not so much with joy as with love--when,
sometimes, the boy sat at his feet at evening, and sang with fervour a
hymn to the Virgin; he was troubled if, by chance, Jacinto strayed from
his sight; and Don Amador sometimes found himself beset by a sort of
jealousy, when he perceived, or thought he perceived, this stripling
robbing him of the heart of his kinsman. But to do Don Amador justice,
it needed not many suggestions of his honour or pride to rid him of such
envious emotions. The zeal of the boy in the service of Calavar, as he
confessed, deserved much of his own gratitude; to which should be added
many acknowledgements of the satisfaction with which he himself listened
to his instrument and voice. If the boy sang with alacrity at the wish
of Calavar, he was not less ready to obey the command of the neophyte.
Nevertheless, Don Amador fancied this obedience was rendered less from
love than duty: he thought the stripling looked on him with fear,
sometimes with dislike; and he was persuaded that (though on occasions
of difficulty,--when a thunderstorm met them on a hill, or a torrent
roared over the path,--Jacinto chose rather to fly to him for
protection, than to remain by the side of the knight,) he was oftener
disposed to shrink from his kindness. This troubled Don Amador, for he
loved the boy well; and often he said to himself, "I have saved this
urchin from a beating, and, as I may add, from the imminent danger of
being speared like a frog;--I have given him gentle words, as also
praises for his singing, which is indeed very excellent; I have helped
him over divers rivers, and a thousand times offered him a seat on
Fogoso's crupper, which it was his own fault, or his own cowardice, he
did not accept; in short, I have helped him out of countless troubles,
and was, besides, the first to befriend him in these lands--without
reckoning what protection I have given to his father, Sidi Abdalla;--and
yet the lad loves me not. It is a pity he was not born of Christian
parents;--ingratitude runs in Moorish blood!"
So thought Don Amador, a thousand times; but a thousand times, as his
displeasure waxed hot at the unthankfulness of the lad, it was
dissipated by some little circumstance or another. Once, when he was in
a talkative mood, and desirous to have Jacinto at his side, he was so
displeased at his evident wish to escape, as to vent his displeasure in
a reprimand. The boy ran to his side, kissed his hand, and raised his
eyes, suffused with tears, to the countenance of his preserver.--The
cavalier never rebuked him again. On two or three occasions, also,
greatly to his surprise, he caught the stripling weeping; which was the
more wonderful, since he seemed not only reconciled, but greatly pleased
with his state of easy servitude. On all such occasions, he excused
himself with such persuasive simplicity, as not only to remove all
suspicions of discontent, but greatly to increase the affection of the
neophyte. He was a favourite as well with the men-at-arms, as with their
masters; and Don Amador often reflected with wonder, how quickly he had
wound himself into the hearts of all. "If I could persuade myself into a
belief of magic," he pondered, "I should think him a truer conjurer than
Botello. What Botello prophesied concerning Narvaez, is very remarkable;
yet, when a man is prognosticating all his life, it is hard if he do not
sometimes blunder upon the truth. Truly he blundered wrong about
Lorenzo's arm, which is not yet well healed; and I vow to St. John, I
thought, one time, it would have gangrened. But as to Jacinto, he has
enchanted my knight's heart. I have ever thought _he_ abhorred the
Moors, and surely he slew great numbers in the war of the Alpujarras. As
for myself, I was born with a natural detestation of the Moorish race;
and I never before knew but one that I did not hate at first sight."
Here he sighed dolefully. "But this boy I love; yet loves he not me.--I
have heard of philters and love-medicines; and surely, as many drugs
attack the stomach, brain, and other parts, there is no reason some
should not be found to affect the heart!"
But while the neophyte thus marvelled and reasoned, Jacinto stole still
deeper into his favour; and at the end of a day's march, Don Amador was
oftener found sitting at the door of some Indian cabin, or under the
shade of its flower-garden, listening with Calavar to the lays of the
young musician, than sharing the martial sports of his companions, or
even superintending the warlike exercises of his ward, Fabueno.