The distance between the great temple and the palace of Axajacatl was by
no means great; though Cortes, for the purpose of prying into many
streets, had led his followers against it by a long and circuitous
course,--a plan which had been followed by Don Gonzalo, though in
another direction. Indeed they were not so far separated, but that a
strong bowman or a good slinger might, from the top of the pyramid,
drive his missile upon the roof of the garrison, to the great injury of
the besieged, as was, afterwards, fully made manifest. The distance,
therefore, to be won by the retreating Spaniards, was small; but it took
them hours to accomplish it. It seemed as if the infidels, fearing lest
their foes might escape out of their hands, if they slackened their
efforts for a moment, were resolved to effect their destruction at any
cost, while they were still at a distance from succour. They pressed
ferociously and rapidly on the fugitives; they gained their front; and
thus encompassed them with a compact mass of human beings, against which
the cavaliers charged, as against a stone wall; slaying and trampling,
indeed, but without penetrating it for more than a few yards. Each step
gained by the van, was literally carved by the cavalry, as out of a
rock; while the utmost exertions of Don Hernan could do nothing more
than preserve his rear band in the attitude of a dike, slowly moving
before the shocks of a flood, which it could not repel.
In addition to these alarming circumstances, there were others now
developed, of a not less serious aspect. The canals that, in two or
three places, intersected the street, were swarming with canoes, from
which the savages discharged their arrows with fatal aim, or sprang, at
once, upon the footmen, striking with spear and maquahuitl, and were
driven back only after the most strenuous efforts. They had destroyed
the bridges, and the canals could only be passed by renewing them with
such planks as the infantry could tear from the adjoining houses, and
hastily throw over the water,--a work of no less suffering than time and
labour. Besides all this, the annoyance which Don Hernan had first
dreaded, was now practised by the crafty barbarians. The terraces were
covered with armed men, who, besides discharging their darts and arrows
down upon the exposed soldiers, tore away, with levers, the stones from
the battlements, and hurled them full upon the heads of their enemies.
The sound of drums and conches, the fierce yells, the whistling, the
dying screams, the loud and hurried prayers, the neighing of horses--and
now and then the shriek of some beast mangled by a rough spear,--the
rattling of arrow-heads, the clang of clubs upon iron bucklers, the
heavy fall of a huge stone crushing a footman to the earth, the plunging
of some wounded wretch strangling in a ditch, and the roar of cannon at
the palace, showing that the battle was universal,--these together, now
made up such a chorus of hellish sounds as Don Amador confessed to
himself he had never heard before, not even among the horrors of Rhodes,
when sacked by other infidels, then esteemed the most valiant in the
world. But to these dismal tumults others were speedily added, when
Cortes, raging with a fury that increased with his despair, commanded
the footmen to fire every house, whose top afforded footing to the
ferocious foe,--a command that was obeyed with good will, and with
dreadful effect; for though, from the nature of its materials, and the
isolated condition of each structure, it was not possible to produce a
general conflagration, yet the great quantity of cotton robes, of dry
mats, and of resinous woods about each house, left it so combustible,
that the application of a torch to the door-curtains, or the casting of
a fire-brand into the interior, instantly enveloped it in flames. Among
these, when they burst through the roofs of light rafters, and the
thatching of dried reeds, the pagan warriors perished miserably; or,
flinging themselves desperately down, were either dashed to pieces, or
transfixed by the lances of the Spaniards.
But the same agent which so dreadfully paralyzed the efforts of the
Mexican, brought suffering scarcely less disastrous to the Christian
ranks. They were stifled with the smoke, they were scorched by the
flames of the burning houses; and, ever and anon, some frantic
barbarian, perishing among the fires of his dwelling, and seeking to
inflict a horrid vengeance, grasped, even in his death-gasp, a flaming
rafter in his arms, and sprang down with it upon his foes, maiming and
scorching where he did not kill.
Thus fighting, and thus resisted, weary and despairing, their bodies
covered with blood, their garments sometimes burning, the Spaniards at
last gained the square that surrounded the palace; and fighting their
way through the herds that invested it, (for, almost at the same moment
that they had been attacked at the temple, the quarters were again
assailed,) and shouting to the cannoniers, lest they should fire on
them, they placed their feet in the court-yard, and thanked God for this
respite to their sufferings.
It was a respite from death, for behind the stone wall they were
comparatively secure; but not a respite from labour. The Mexicans abated
not a jot of their ardour. The same herds that covered the square at
dawn, were again yelling at the gates, and with the same unconquerable
fury; and the soldiers, already fainting with fatigue, with famine, and
thirst, (for they had taken no refreshment since the preceding evening,)
were fain to purchase, painfully, a temporary safety, by standing to the
walls, and keeping the savages at bay, as they could.
The artillery thundered, the cross-bows twanged, the arquebuses added
their destructive volleys to the other warlike noises; but the Mexicans,
disregarding these sounds, as well as the havoc made among their ranks,
rushed, in repeated assaults, against the walls, and, sometimes, with
such violence, that they drove the besieged from the gate, and entered
pell-mell with them into the court-yard. Then, indeed, ensued a scene of
murder; for the Christians, flying again to the portal, cut off the
retreat of such desperadoes, and slew them within the walls, without
loss, and almost at their leisure.
On such occasions, no one showed more spirit in attacking, or more fury
in slaying, than the young secretary. The suit of goodly armour sent him
by the admiral, and his rapid proficiency in the practice of arms, had
inflamed his vanity; and he burned to approve himself worthy the
companionship of cavaliers. The native conscientiousness which filled
him with horror at the sight of the first blood shed, the first life
destroyed, by his hand, had vanished as a dream; for it is the
excellence of war, that, while developing our true nature, and
remaining, itself, as the link which binds man to his original state of
barbarism, it preserves him the delights of a savage, without entirely
depriving him of the pleasures of civilization. The right of shedding
blood, mankind enjoy in common with brutes; and, doubtless, a
conformable philosophy will not frown on the privilege, so long as the
loss of it would contract our circle of enjoyments. There is something
poetical in the diabolism of a fiend, and as much that is splendid in
the ferocity of a tiger; and though these two qualities be the chief
elements of heroism, they bring with them such accompaniments of
splendour and sentiment, that he would rob the world of half its glory,
as well as much of its poetry, who should destroy the race of the great,
and leave mankind to the dull innocence of peace.--There are more
millions of human beings, the victims of war, rotting under the earth,
than now move on its surface.
The pain of wounds had also produced a new effect in the bosom of
Lorenzo; for, instead of cooling his courage, it now inflamed his rage,
and helped to make him valiant. The mild and feeling boy was quite
transformed into a heartless ruffian; and so great had become his love
of slaughter, and so unscrupulous his manner of gratifying it, that,
once or twice, Don Amador noticed him, and would have censured him
sharply, but that his attention was immediately absorbed by the
necessity of self-defence. The cavaliers had dismounted, and the
neophyte fought at the gates on foot. In the midst of an assault, in
which the defenders had been driven back, but which disgrace they were
now repairing, he beheld his ward struggling with a wounded savage, who
grasped his knees and hand, but in intreaty, not hostility; and greatly
was Don Amador shocked, when he beheld the secretary disengage his arm,
and, with a shout of triumph, plunge his steel into the throat of the
supplicating barbarian.
"Art thou a devil, Lorenzo?" cried the cavalier, indignantly. "That was
a knave's and a coward's blow! Thou shalt follow me no longer."
While he spoke, and left himself unguarded, a gigantic pagan, taking
advantage of his indiscretion, leaped suddenly upon him, and struck him
such a blow with a maquahuitl, as, but for the strength of his casque,
would have killed him outright. As it was, the shock so stunned him, as
to leave him for a moment, incapable of defence. In that moment, the
savage, uttering a loud yell, sprang forward to repeat the blow, or to
drag him off a prisoner; when Fabueno, perceiving the extremity of his
patron, and fired with the opportunity of proving his valour, rushed
between them, and with a lucky blow on the naked neck of the Mexican,
instantly despatched him.
"A valiant stroke, Lorenzo!" said the neophyte, losing somewhat of his
heat, as he recovered his wits. "But it does not entirely wipe out the
shame of the other. Moderate thy wrath, curb thy fury, and remember that
cruelty is the mark of a dastard. Strike me no more foes that cry for
mercy!"
As his anger had been changed into approbation, so now were his censures
abruptly ended by exclamations of surprise. For at that instant,
Fabueno, grasping his arm with one hand, and with the other pointing a
little to one side, turned upon him a countenance full of alarm. He
looked around, and beheld with amazement, his kinsman, Don Gabriel,
entirely unarmed, except with sword and buckler, mingled with the
combatants, shouting a feeble war-cry, striking faintly, and, indeed,
preserved less by his courage than his appearance, from the bludgeons of
the infidels. His grizzly locks (for he was entirely bare-headed,) fell
over his hollow and bloodless cheeks, whereon glittered, black and
hideous, a single gout of gore. His face was like the face of the dead;
and the savages recoiled from before him, as if from a spirit rousing
from Mictlan, the world of gloom, to call them down to his dark
dwelling.
In a moment the neophyte, followed by Fabueno, and Lazaro, who answered
to his call, and Marco, who seemed to have been separated by the melee
from his master, was at the side of Calavar. The mind of the knight was
wholly gone; and he seemed as if, at the point of death, raised from his
couch by the clamours of the contest, and urged into it by the instinct
of long habit, or by the goadings of madness.
He submitted patiently, and without words, to the gentle violence of his
kinsman, and was straightway carried to his apartment.