Whether it was that this attack was caused by an ebullition of popular
fury, which yielded to some mysterious and religious revulsion of
feeling, or whether, indeed, the leaders of the barbarians, persuaded of
the madness of fighting the Christians hand to hand, and resolved to
conquer them rather by famine than arms, had called off their
forces,--was a secret the Spaniards could never penetrate. No sacred
horn was sounded on the pyramid; but, in the very midst of what seemed
their triumph, when the cavaliers were nearly exhausted and despairing,
it became manifest that the Mexicans were giving way, and vanishing, not
one by one, but in great clusters, from the field.
The Christians had no longer the spirit to pursue. They found the street
open; and, dashing through the few foemen that lingered on the field,
they made their way good to the palace. Before they reached it, they
were joined by a powerful detachment, sent out to their assistance. They
returned together. At the gate of the court-yard, stood Baltasar,
Lazaro, and the secretary, looking eagerly for the appearance of Don
Amador. His horse was led by a cavalier, whose countenance was more
dejected than the rest. It was De Morla; and as he flung the bridle to
Lazaro, he said,--
"Hadst _thou_ been with thy master, this thing had not happened; for,
though a serving-man, thou wouldst have remained behind him, when a
cavalier deserted."
"Dost thou accuse _me_ of deserting the noble youth?" said Alvarado,
fiercely. "God forbid, I should shed Christian blood! but, with my
sword's point, I will prove upon thy body, that thou liest!"
"And upon thine," said De Morla, with calm indignation, "I will make
good the charge I have uttered, that thou didst abandon in extremity,
when he called upon thee for aid, the man who had just preserved thine
own life."
"Are there not deaths enow among the infidels?" cried Cortes, angrily,
"that ye must lust after one another's blood?--Peace! and be ye friends,
lamenting our valiant companion together; for, De Morla, thou doest a
wrong to Alvarado; and, Don Pedro, thou art a fool, to quarrel with the
peevishness of a mourning friend."
The secretary listened to the cavaliers with a face of horror; not a
word said Lazaro, but as he wiped the foam from the steed, and, with it,
the blood of his master, he eyed Don Pedro with a dark and vindictive
scowl. As for Baltasar, his rugged features quivered, and he did not
hesitate to stand in the way of the Tonatiuh, saying,--
"If any cavalier have, indeed, been false to my young lord, I, who am
but a serving-man, will make bold to say, he has played false to a
gentleman who would have perilled his life for any Christian in need;
and the act, though it be answered to man, God will not forgive.--Who
will tell this to my master, Don Gabriel?"
Alvarado, extremely enraged, had raised his spear to strike the old
soldier; but he dropped his arm, at the last words, and said with great
mildness,--
"Thou art a fool to say this.--I lament thy lord; I loved him, and I did
not desert him----"
For the remainder of that day, the garrison were left in peace. No foes
appeared on the square; but, twice or thrice, when parties were sent out
to reconnoitre, they were met, at a distance from the palace, by herds
of Mexicans, and driven back to their quarters.
The desperate situation of the army was now evident to the dullest
comprehension. The barbarians had removed from the reach of the
artillery, and drawn, with their bodies, a line of circumvallation round
their victims, patiently waiting for the moment, when famine should
bring them a secure vengeance. All day, there were seen, on the top of
the pyramid, priests and nobles, now engaged in some rite of devotion,
and now looking down, on the besieged, like vultures on their prey; but
without attempting any annoyance.
The murmurs of the garrison, exasperated by despair and want of food,
were loud and stern; but Don Hernan received them only with biting
sarcasms. He bade those who were most mutinous, to depart if they would;
and laughed scornfully at their confessions of inability. To those who
cried for food, he answered by pointing grimly to the stone walls, and
the carcasses that lay on the square; or he counselled them to seek it
among their foes. In truth, the general knew their helplessness, and in
the bitterness of his heart at being thus foiled and jeoparded, he did
not scruple to punish their discontent, by disclosing the full misery of
their situation. They were dependent upon him for life and hope, and he
suffered this dependence to be made apparent. He revealed to them no
scheme of relief or escape; for, in fact, he had framed none. He was,
himself, as desperate as the rest, seeing nothing before him but
destruction, and not knowing how to avoid it; and what measures he did
take, during these sorrowful hours, were rather expedients to divert his
thoughts, than plans to diminish the general distress.
Notwithstanding the memorable fate of the burro, and the disinclination
of the soldiers to die the death of its garrison, he obstinately
commanded those which were unfinished to be completed, with some
additional contrivances to increase their strength and mobility. He sent
out parties to ransack the deserted houses in the vicinity, for
provisions, though hopeless of obtaining any; and he set the idlers to
mending their armour of escaupil, and the smiths to making arrow-heads,
as if still determined rather to fight than fly. He held no councils
with his officers, for he knew they had no projects to advise; and the
desperate resort over which he pondered, of sallying out with his whole
force, and cutting his way through the opposing foe, was too full of
horror to be yet spoken. Moreover, while Montezuma yet lived, he could
not think his situation entirely hopeless. The surgeon, upon a
re-examination of the king's wounds, had formed a more favourable
prognostic; and this was strengthened, when Montezuma at last awoke from
stupor, and recovered the possession of his intellects. It was told him,
indeed, that the royal Indian, as if resuming his wits only to cast them
away again, had no sooner become sensible of his condition, and
remembered that his wounds had been inflicted by his people, than he
fell into a frenzy of grief and despair, tearing away the bandages from
his body, and calling upon his gods to receive him into Tlacopan, the
place of caverns and rivers, where wandered those who died the death of
the miserable. Don Hernan imagined that these transports would soon rave
themselves away, and persuaded himself that his captive, yielding at
last to the natural love of life, would yet remain in his hands, the
hostage of safety, and perhaps the instrument of authority.
Sorrow dwelt in the palace of Axajacatl; but her presence was more
deeply acknowledged in the chamber of Calavar. From the lips of
Baltasar,--and the rude veteran wept, when he narrated the fall of the
young cavalier, whom he had himself first taught the knowledge of
arms,--Don Gabriel learned the fate of his kinsman. But he neither wept
like Baltasar, nor joined in the loud lamentations of Marco. His eyes
dilated with a wild expression, his lip fell, he drooped his head on his
breast, and clasping his hands over his heart, muttered an
unintelligible prayer,--perhaps the ejaculation which so often, and so
piteously, expressed his desolation. Then falling down upon his couch,
and turning his face to the wall, he remained for the whole day and
night without speaking a word.