The soldiers of Alvarado differed in no wise from those veterans whom
Don Amador had found standing to their arms on the banks of the River of
Canoes; only that they presented, notwithstanding their loudly vented
delight, a care-worn and somewhat emaciated appearance,--the consequence
of long watches, perpetual fears, and, in part, of famine. They broke
their ranks, as has been said, as soon as they beheld their general, and
surrounded him with every expression of affection; and, while stretching
forth their hands with cries of gratitude and joy, invoked many
execrations on their imperial prisoner, the helpless Montezuma, as the
cause of all their sufferings. Among them, Don Amador took notice of one
man, who, though armed and habited as a Spaniard, seemed, in most other
respects, an Indian, and of a more savage race than any he had yet seen;
for his face, hands, and neck were tattooed with the most fantastic
figures, and his motions were those of a barbarian. This was Geronimo de
Aguilar, a companion of Balboa, who, being wrecked on the coast of
Yucatan, had been preserved as a slave, and finally, adopted as a
warrior, among the hordes of that distant land; from which he was
rescued by Don Hernan,--happily to serve as the means of communication,
through the medium of another and more remarkable interpreter, with the
races of Mexico. This other interpreter, who approached the general with
the dignified gravity of an Indian princess, and was received with
suitable respect, was no less a person than that maid of Painalla, sold
by an unfeeling parent a slave to one of the chieftains of Tobasco,
presented by him to Cortes, and baptized in the faith under the
distinguished title of the senora Dona Marina; who, by interpreting to
Aguilar, in the language of Yucatan, the communications that were made
in her native tongue, thus gave to Cortes the means of conferring with
her countrymen, until her speedy acquisition of the Castilian language
removed the necessity of such tedious intervention. But at this period,
many Spaniards had acquired a smattering of her tongue, and could play
the part of interpreters; and, for this reason, Dona Marina will make no
great figure in this history. Other annalists have sufficiently
immortalized her beauty, her wisdom, and her fidelity; and it has been
her good fortune, continued even to this day, to be distinguished with
such honours as have fallen to the lot of none of her masters. Her
Christian denomination, Marina, converted by her countrymen into
_Malintzin_, (a title that was afterwards scornfully applied by them to
Cortes himself,) and this again, in modern days, corrupted by the
Creoles into _Malinche_, has had the singular fate to give name both to
a mountain and a divinity: the sierra of Tlascala is now called the
mountain of Malinche; and the descendants of Montezuma pay their
adorations to the Virgin, under the title of Malintzin.
Don Amador de Leste, attended by De Morla, as well as his new
acquaintance, Alvarado, was able to understand, as well as admire, many
of the wonders of the city, as he now, for the first time, planted his
foot on its imperial streets.
The retreat of the salt waters of Tezcuco has left the present
republican city of Mexico a full league west of the lake. In the days of
Montezuma, it stood upon an island two miles removed from the western
shore, with which it communicated by the dike or _calzada_ of
Tlacopan,--now called Tacuba. The causeway of Iztapalapan, coming from
the South, seven miles in length, passed over the island and through the
city, and was continued in a line three miles further to the northern
shore, and to the city Tepejacac, where now stand the church and the
miraculous picture of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Besides these three great
causeways, constructed with inconceivable labour, there were two
others,--that of Cojohuacan, which, as we have mentioned, terminated in
the greater one of Iztapalapan, at the military point Xoloc, a half
league from the city; and that, a little south-ward of the dike of
Tacuba, which conveyed, in aqueducts of earthenware, the pure waters of
Chapoltepec to the temples and squares of the imperial city. The island
was circular, saving that a broad angle or peninsula ran out from the
north-west, and a similar one from the opposite point of the compass: it
was a league in diameter; but the necessities of the people, after
covering this ample space with their dwellings, extended them far into
the lake; and perhaps as many edifices stood, on piles, in the water as
on the land. The causeways of Iztapalapan and Tacuba, intersecting each
other in the heart of the island, divided the city into four convenient
quarters, to which a fifth was added, some few generations before, when
the little kingdom of Tlatelolco, occupying the north-western peninsula,
was added to Tenochtitlan. On this peninsula and in this quarter of
Tlatelolco, stood the palace of an ancient king, which the munificence
of Montezuma had presented to Cortes for a dwelling, and which the
invader, six days after the gift, by an act of as much treachery as
daring, converted into the prison of his benefactor.
The appearance of this vast and remarkable city so occupied the mind of
the neophyte, that, as he rode staring along, he gave but few thoughts,
and fewer words, either to his kinsman or the page. It was sunset, and
in the increasing obscurity, he gazed, as if on a scene of magic, on
streets often having canals in the midst, covered alike with bridges and
empty canoes; on stone houses, low indeed, but of a strong and imposing
structure, over the terraces of which waved shrubs and flowers; and on
high turrets, which, at every vista, disclosed their distant pinnacles.
But he remarked also, and it was mentioned by the cavaliers at his side
as a bad omen, that neither the streets, the canals, nor the house-tops
presented the appearance of citizens coming forth to gaze upon them. A
few Indians were now and then seen skulking at a distance in the
streets, raising their heads from a half-concealed canoe, or peering
from a terrace among the shrubs. He would have thought the city
uninhabited, but that he knew it contained as many living creatures,
hidden among its retreats, as some of the proudest capitals of
Christendom. Even the great square, the centre of life and of devotion,
was deserted; and the principal pyramid, a huge and mountainous mass,
consecrated to the most sanguinary of deities, though its sanctuaries
were lighted by the ever-blazing urns, and though the _town_ of temples
circumscribed by the great Coatepantli, or _Wall of Serpents_, which
surrounded this Mexican Olympus, sent up the glare of many a devotional
torch,--yet did it seem, nevertheless, to be inhabited by beings as
inanimate as those monstrous reptiles which writhed in stone along the
infernal wall. In this light, and in that which still played in the
west, Don Amador marvelled at the structure of the pyramid, and cursed
it as he marvelled. It consisted of five enormous platforms, faced with
hewn stone, and mounted by steps so singularly planned, that, upon
climbing the first story, it was necessary to walk entirely round the
mass, before arriving at the staircase which conducted to the second.
The reader may conceive of the vast size of this pagan temple by being
apprised, that, to ascend it, the votaries were compelled, in their
perambulations, to walk a distance of full ten furlongs, as well as to
climb a hundred and fourteen different steps. He may also comprehend the
manner in which the stairways were contrived, by knowing that the first,
ascending _laterally_ from the corner, was just as broad as the first
platform was wider than the second; leaving thus a sheer and continuous
wall from the ground to the top of the second terrace, from the bottom
of the second to the top of the third, and so on, in like manner, to the
top.
But the pyramid, crowned with altars and censers, the innumerable
temples erected in honour of nameless deities at its foot, and the
strange and most hideous Coatepantli, were not the only objects which
excited the abhorrence of the cavalier. Without the wall, and a few
paces in advance of the great gate which it covered as a curtain, rose a
rampart of earth or stone, oblong and pyramidal, but truncated,
twenty-five fathoms in length at the base, and perhaps thirty feet in
height. At either end of this tumulus, was a tower of goodly altitude,
built, as it seemed at a distance and in the dim light, of some
singularly rude and uncouth material; and between them, occupying the
whole remaining space of the terrace, was a sort of frame-work or cage
of slender poles, on all of which were strung thickly together, certain
little globes, the character of which Don Amador could not penetrate,
until fully abreast of them. Then, indeed, he perceived, with horror,
that these globes were the skulls of human beings, the trophies of ages
of superstition; and beheld, in like manner, that the towers which
crowned the Golgotha, (or _Huitzompan_, as it was called in the Mexican
tongue,) were constructed of the same dreadful materials, cemented
together with lime. The malediction which he invoked upon the builders
of the ghastly temple, was unheard; for the spectacle froze his blood
and paralyzed his tongue.
It was not yet dark, when, having left these haunts of idolatry, Don
Amador found himself entering into the court-yard of a vast, and yet not
a very lofty, building,--the palace of Axajacatl; wherein, with drums
beating, and trumpets answering joyously to the salute of their friends,
stood those individuals of the garrison who had remained to watch over
their prisoners and treasures. The weary and the curious, thronging
together impatiently at the gate, mingling with the garrison and some
two thousand faithful Tlascalans, who had been left by Cortes as their
allies, and who now rushed forward to salute the viceroy of their gods,
as some had denominated Don Hernan, made such a scene of confusion,
that, for a moment, the neophyte was unable to ride into the yard. In
that moment, and while struggling both to appease the unquiet of Fogoso,
and to drive away the feathered herd that obstructed him, his arm was
touched, and, looking down, he beheld Jacinto at his side, greatly
agitated, and seemingly striving to disengage himself from the throng.
"Give me thy hand," cried Don Amador, "and I will pull thee out of this
rabble to the back of Fogoso."
But the page, though he seized upon the hand of his patron, and covered
it with kisses, held back, greatly to the surprise of Don Amador, who
was made sensible that hot tears were falling with the kisses.
"I swear to thee, my boy! that I will discover thy father for thee, if
it be possible for man to find him," said the cavalier, diving at once,
as he thought, to the cause of this emotion.
But before he had well done speaking, the press thickening around him,
drew the boy from his side; and when he had, a moment after, disengaged
himself, Jacinto was no longer to be seen. Not doubting, however, that
he was entangled in the mass, and would immediately appear, he called
out to him to follow; and riding slowly up to Cortes, he had his whole
attention immediately absorbed by the spectacle of the Indian emperor.
Issuing from the door of the palace, surrounded as well by Spanish
cavaliers as by the nobles, both male and female, of his own household,
who stood by him,--the latter, at least,--with countenances of the
deepest veneration,--he advanced a step to do honour to the dismounting
general.
In the light of many torches, held by the people about him, Don Amador,
as he flung himself from his horse, could plainly perceive the person
and habiliments of the pagan king. He was of good stature, clad in white
robes, over which was a huge mantle of crimson, studded with emeralds
and drops of gold, knotted on his breast, or rather on his shoulder, so
as to fall, when he raised his arm, in careless but very graceful folds;
his legs were buskined with gilded leather; his head covered with the
_copilli_, or crown, (a sort of mitre of plate-gold, graved and chased
with certain idolatrous devices,) from beneath which fell to his
shoulders long and thick locks of the blackest hair. He did not yet seem
to have passed beyond the autumn of life. His countenance, though of the
darkest hue known among his people, was good, somewhat long and hollow,
but the features well sculptured; and a gentle melancholy, a
characteristic expression of his race, deepened, perhaps, in gloom, by a
sense of his degradation, gave it a something that interested the
beholder.
In the abruptness with which he was introduced to the regal barbarian,
Don Amador had no leisure to take notice of his attendants, all princely
in rank, and, two or three of them, the kings of neighbouring cities: he
only observed that their decorations were far from being costly and
ostentatious;--a circumstance, which, he did not then know, marked the
greatness of their respect. In the absurd grandeur which attached to the
person of their monarch, no distinction of inferior ranks was allowed to
be traced, during the time of an audience; and in his majestic presence,
a vassal king wore the coarse garments of a slave. So important was
esteemed the observance of this courtly etiquette, that, at the first
visit made him, in his palace, by the Spaniards, the renowned Cortes and
his proud officers did not refuse to throw off their shoes, and cover
their armour with such humble apparel as was offered them. But those
days were passed; the king of kings was himself the vassal of a king's
vassal. Yet notwithstanding this, it had been, up to this time, the
policy of Don Hernan to soften the captivity, and engage the affections,
of the monarch, by such marks of reverence as might still allow him to
dream he possessed the grandeur, along with the state, of a king. Before
this day, Cortes had never been known to pass his prisoner, without
removing his cap or helmet; and indeed, such had been so long the habit
of his cavaliers, that all, as they now dismounted, fell to doffing
their casques without delay, until the action of their leader taught
them a new and unexpected mode of salutation.
The weak spirit of Montezuma had yielded to the arts of the Spaniard;
and forgetting the insults of past days, the loss of his empire, and the
shame of his imprisonment, he had already conceived a species of
affection for his wronger. Cortes had no sooner, therefore, leaped from
his horse, than the emperor, with outstretched arms, and with his
sadness yielding to a smile, advanced to meet him.
"Dog of a king!" said the invader, with a ferocious frown, "dost thou
starve and murder my people, and then offer me the hand of friendship?
away with thee! I defy thee, and thou shalt see that I can punish!" Thus
saying, and thrusting the king rudely aside, he stepped into the palace.
A wild cry of lamentation, at this insult (it needed no interpretation)
to their king, burst from the lips of all the Mexicans; and the
Spaniards themselves were not less panic-struck. The gentle manners of
Montezuma, and his munificence, (for he was in the daily habit of
enriching them with costly presents,) had endeared him to most of his
enemies; and even the soldiers of the garrison, who had so lately
accused him of endeavouring to famish them, had no belief in the justice
of their charges. Many of them therefore, both soldiers and hidalgos,
indignant and grieved at the wanton insult, had their sympathies
strongly excited, when they beheld the monarch roll his eyes upon them
with a haggard smile, in which pride was struggling vainly with a bitter
sense of humiliation. De Morla and several others rushed forwards to
atone, by caresses, for the crime of their general. But it was too late;
the king threw his mantle over his head, and without the utterance of
any complaint, passed, with his attendants, into his apartments. His
countenance was never more, from that day, seen to wear a smile.
Don Amador de Leste was greatly amazed and shocked by this rudeness; and
it was one of many other circumstances, which, by lessening his respect
for the general, contributed to weaken his friendship and undermine his
gratitude. But he had no time to indulge his indignation. He was
startled by a loud cry, or rather a shriek, from the lips of the knight
Calavar; and running to the gate, beheld, in the midst of a confused
mass of men, rushing to and fro, and calling out as if to secure an
assassin, his kinsman lying, to all appearance dead, in the arms of his
attendants.