CHAPTER XXXIX.

After much search and persuasion, a surgeon was found and induced to

visit the knight. He despatched his questions almost in a word, for he

was a fighting Bachelor, and burned with impatience to return to the

contest. He mingled hastily a draught, which he affirmed to be of

wondrous efficacy in composing disordered minds to sleep, gave a few

simple directions, and excusing his haste in the urgency of his other

occupations, both military and chirurgical, he immediately departed.

"Marco!" said the neophyte, when the draught was administered, and Don

Gabriel laid on the couch, "thou deservest the heaviest punishment for

leaving thy master an instant, though, as thou sayest, while fast

asleep. Remain by him now, and be more faithful. As for thee, Lorenzo,"

he continued, to the secretary, who stood panting at his side, "there

is good reason thou shouldst share the task of Marco, were it only to

repose thee a little; but more need is it, that thou suffer thy blood to

cool, and reflect, with shame, that thou hast, this day, cancelled all

thy good deeds, by killing a prostrate and beseeching foe. Remain,

therefore, to assist Marco; and by-and-by I will come to thee, and

declare whether or not thou shalt draw thy sword again to-day."

And thus leaving his kinsman to the care of the two followers, and

beckoning Lazaro along, Don Amador returned to the court-yard and the

conflict.

The history of the remainder of the day (it was now noon,) is a weary

tale of blood. Wounds could not check, nor slaughter subdue, the

animosity of the besiegers; and the Spaniards, tired even of killing,

hoped no longer for victory over men who seemed to fight with no object

but to die, and who rushed up as readily to the mouth of a cannon, whose

vent was already blazing under the linstock, as to the spears that

bristled with fatal opposition at the gates.

But night came at last, and with it a hope to end the sufferings that

were already intolerable. The hope was vain. The barbarians, apparently

incapable of fatigue, or perhaps yielding their places to fresh

combatants, continued the assault even with increasing vigour and

boldness. They rushed against the court-wall with heavy beams,--rude

battering-rams,--with which they thought to shake it to its foundations,

and thus deprive the Christians of their greatest safeguard. In certain

spots they succeeded; and the soldiers cursed the day of their birth, as

the ruins fell crashing to the ground, and they saw themselves reduced

to the alternative of filling the breaches with their bodies, or

remaining to perish where they stood. It is true, that in this kind of

defence, as well as under other urgent difficulties, they received good

and manly aid from their numerous allies, the Tlascalans, who fought,

during the whole day, with a spirit and cheerfulness that put many a

repining Castilian to shame. But these, though battling equally for

their lives, were incapable of withstanding long the unexampled violence

of the assaults; and it was soon found that the naked bodies of the

Tlascalans offered but slight impediment to the frenzied Mexicans.

The Spaniards, in the expedient used to drive the citizens from their

house-tops, had taught them a mode of warfare which they were not slow

to adopt. The palace was of a solid structure, and seemed to bid

defiance to flames. But the same cedars that finished the interior of

meaner houses, formed its floors and ceilings; every chamber was covered

with mats, and most of them were hung with the most inflammable kind of

tapestry. In addition to this, the five thousand Tlascalans, who had

been left with Alvarado, and who slept in the court-yard, besides

strewing the earth with rushes--their humble couches--had constructed

along the walls of the palace itself, many rude arbours, or rather

kennels, of reeds from the lake, to shelter them from the vicissitudes

of the rainy season, which had, already, in part, set in. And, to crown

all, the cavaliers, whose horses, as they well knew, were each worth a

thousand Tlascalans, had caused stalls to be constructed for them,

wherein they were better protected from the weather, than their

fellow-animals, the allies. With these arrangements, the Mexicans were

well acquainted.

No sooner, therefore, had they succeeded in beating down several

breaches in the wall, and found that they could sometimes drive the

besieged from them, than they made trial of the expedient. They rushed

together against the walls in a general assault, waving firebrands and

torches, which those who forced their way through the breaches, applied

to the stalls and arbours, or scattered over the beds of the Tlascalans.

The dying incendiary, pierced with a dozen spears, ended his life with a

laugh of joy, as he beheld the flames burst ruddily up to his brand.

The misery of the Spaniards was now complete. They were parched with

thirst. The sweet fountains of Chapoltepec gushed only over the square

of the temple. A well, dug by Alvarado, in his extremity, furnished a

meager supply of water, and that so brackish, that even the brutes

turned from it in disgust, till forced to drink, by pangs that would

allow them to be fastidious no longer. The nearest canal, conducting the

briny waters of Tezcuco, was shut out by ramparts of savages. The

Spaniards, with one universal voice, sent up a cry of despair, as they

beheld the flames run over the court, the stalls, the kennels, and up

the palace walls, and knew not how to extinguish them. The cry was

answered from without, with such yells of exultation, as froze their

blood; and in the glare of the sudden conflagration, they saw the

barbarians rushing again to the attack, darting through the breaches,

and leaping over the walls.

In this strait, beset at once by two foes, equally irresistible, equally

pitiless, they struck about them blindly and despairingly, cursing their

fate, their folly, and the leader who had seduced them from their island

homes, to die a death so ignoble and so dreadful.

For a moment, the spirit of the general sunk, and turning to Don Amador,

whose fate it was again to be at his side, he said, with a ghastly

countenance, rendered hideous by the infernal glare,--

"We die the death of foxes in a hole, very noble friend! Commend thy

soul to God, and choose thy death; for we have no water to quench this

hell!"

"God help my kinsman and father, and all is one!" said Amador, with a

desperate calmness. "The flames are hot, but the grave is cold."

"_The grave is cold!_" shouted Cortes, with the voice of a madman. "Live

in my heart for ever! Cold grave, moist earth! and Santiago, who strikes

for a true Christian, speaks in thy words!--What ho, mad Spaniards!" he

continued, shouting aloud, and running as he spoke round the palace;

"earth quenches flames, like water! Swords and hands to the task; and he

works best, who delves as at the grave of his foeman!"

If there was obscurity in the words of the general, it was dispelled by

his actions; for, dashing the rushes aside, he loosened the damp soil

with his sabre, and flung the clods lustily on the nearest flames. Loud

and joyous were the shouts of his people, as hope dawned upon them with

the happy idea; and, in a moment, the hands of many thousand men were

tearing up the earth of the court, and casting it on the flames, while

the savages, confidently expecting the result of their stratagem,

intermitted their efforts for awhile, leaving the gates and breaches

nearly unguarded.

It is probable, that even this poor resource, in the hands of so great a

multitude of men, toiling with the zeal of desperation, might have

sufficed to quell the flames. But, as if heaven had at last taken pity

on their sufferings, and vouchsafed a miracle for their relief, there

came, almost at the same moment, the pattering of rain-drops, which were

quickly followed by a heavenly deluge; and as the flames vanished under

it, the Christians fell upon their knees, and, with devout ardour,

offered up thanks to the Providence, that had so marvellously preserved

them.

They sprang from their knees, with bolder hearts, as the Mexicans again

advanced to the assault. But this was the last attack. As if satisfied

with the toils of the day, or commanded by some unknown ruler, the

barbarians, uttering a mournful scream, suddenly departed.--They were

heard during the night; and in the morning, when the waning moon shone

dimly through the rack, were seen stirring about the square, but in no

great numbers; and as they did not attempt any annoyance, but seemed

engaged in dragging away the dead, Don Hernan forbade his sentinels to

molest them.

The guards were set, and the over-worn soldiers retired, at last, to

throw their wounded bodies on their pallets. But throughout the whole

night, the noises of men repairing the breaches, and constructing

certain military engines, assured those who were too sore or too fearful

to sleep, that the leader they had cursed was sacrificing a second night

to the duties of his station.

Calavar; or, The Knight of The Conquest, A Romance of Mexico · 第 39 / 65 章