The situation of the Spaniards, at that moment, though sufficiently
frightful to every one, was yet known, in all its horrors, only to the
leaders of the van. As hope is ever independent of judgment, ever
unreasonable and unreflective, the absence of the bridge, at the first
sluice, was not enough to persuade the fugitives, that the passage of
the second might be equally interrupted. But, at the moment when the
signal-fire was kindled on the temple, Sandoval had already reached this
ditch, and perceived that its bridge was also demolished, and, as it
seemed, very recently too; for there yet remained a huge timber lying
across the chasm,--left, as he feared, rather as some decoy and trap,
than, as was more probable, deserted suddenly by workmen, scared from
their labours by the approach of the Spaniards.
The three ditches divided the dike into four portions, of as many
furlongs in extent. On the second of these portions was concentrated the
whole retreating army, its front resting upon a sluice of great depth,
passable by footmen, (for the great beam was soon discovered to be
sound,) but not by the horse and artillery, without the portable bridge,
which yet rested over the first breach. This second obstacle being
overcome, it was apparent, that a third would still remain to be
surmounted; and the passage of both was to be effected in the presence,
and in the midst, of a great enemy.
As we have said, the beacon-light, shooting up from the pyramid, and
continuing to burn with intensity, brought light, where all, before, was
darkness; and revealed such innumerable fleets of canoes, hovering on
both flanks, as the novice had not seen, even on that day when he first
trode upon a dike of Mexico. But the spirit that then slumbered, was now
awake; and as the rowers responded, with their wild cries, to the roar
of the sacred trumpet, they struck the water furiously with their
paddles, until the whole lake seemed to boil up with a spray of fire;
and thus they rushed madly against the causeway.
The novice cast his eye upon the general. The ruddy glare of the beacon
could not change the deadly pallor that covered his cheeks; but,
nevertheless, with this ghastly countenance turned to the foe, he cried
out, cheerily, or, at least, firmly, to those immediately in advance,--
"Who ho, cannoniers! your quoins and handspikes, your horns and matches!
and show me your throats to the lake-rats!" Then, raising his voice to
its trumpet-tones, he continued, as if giving counsel and command to
all: "Be bold and fearless, and strike for the honour of God, brave
Christians! Soho! De Leon, valiant brother! and thou, Alvarado,
matchless cavalier! raise me the bridge, and be quick; for here we need
it."
The voices of other officers were heard, faintly mingled with the din,
but not long; every moment the shouts of the Mexicans, continued without
intermission, became louder, and their canoes were plunging nearer to
the causeway.
A pang rent the bosom of Don Amador:
"I must get me to my companions," he cried, to Jacinto, "and what can I
do for thee this night, young page that I love?"
"I will follow thee," said the page, tremulously; "I will die with my
lord."
"Would that I had thee but upon the back of Fogoso! for methinks that
even De Morla should not strike more truly for Minnapotzin than would I,
this night, for thee."
"Where goest thou, De Leste?" cried Cortes, as the novice pushed by.
"Pause--thou art best among the cannoniers."
A dreadful yell, at that moment, drowned the general's voice: but one
still more dreadful was heard, when, as the pagans drew breath to repeat
the cry, the Christians in front heard the rear-guard exclaiming, with
loud and bitter shrieks, "The bridge!--the bridge!--it is fast and
immoveable!"--The weight of the horses and artillery had sunk it deep
into the chasm, and no human strength could stir it from its foundation.
These words and sights were all the occurrences of a moment. There was
neither time for observation nor lamentation. The infidels on the water
rushed to the attack with the same fury which had so often driven them
upon the spears of the garrison; and, not less by their cries than their
apparent numbers, it was made obvious that the whole strength of the
great city was gathered together for this undertaking; for those who had
caught a little of their language, could distinguish the different
quarters of the island encouraging each other with cries of "Ho,
Tlatelolco! shall Majotla strike first at the foe?--Alzacualco! on; for
Tecpan is swift and mirthful.--On, ho! for Mexitli is speaking; on, for
our gods are on the temple, and they hunger for the Teuctli!" The line
of the army was full half a mile in length; but, as far as it stretched,
and further than the eye could penetrate beyond either extremity, a
triple row of canoes, on each side of the causeway, was seen closing
upon it with the speed and fury of breakers, dashing against a stranded
ship.
"_Now_, cannoniers!" cried Don Hernan, elevating his voice above the
tumult, when the rushing masses were within but a few paces of the
causey; "_now_ to your linstocks, and touch in the name of God!"
The damp gunpowder sparkled and hissed on the vents, but did not fail
the Christians in their need. The roar of the volley was like the peal
of an earthquake; and, right and left, as eighteen horizontal columns of
fire darted from the engines, the lake boiled up with a new fury,
fragments of canoes and the bodies of men were seen flung up into the
air, and yells of agony which chilled the blood, bore witness to the
dreadfulness of the slaughter.
"Quick, and again!" cried Don Hernan, eagerly. "Shoot fast, and shoot
well; and know that I will shortly be back with ye.--Ho, Sandoval! why
dost thou loiter? plunge into the ditch, and swim. Rest where thou art,
De Leste; for thou art too weak for battle. Give thine aid to the
cannoniers."
The confused and huddled Tlascalans, who formed the rear of Sandoval's
party, shouted at the cry of the Teuctli, and made way for him. A
cavalier, bearing a burthen in his arms, spurred after, with a mad
impetuosity, which rendered him regardless of the many naked wretches he
trampled to the earth: it was De Morla. The example thus set by the
apparent flight of the two hidalgos, was followed by others; and the
allies were broken by the hoofs of Christians, while still enduring the
arrows, that came like a driving rain from the lake.
Meanwhile, it was evident, though the cannon, recharged and shot off
again with extraordinary quickness, served to keep the part of the
causeway where they stood free from assailants, that they had effected a
landing, perhaps, both in front and rear,--certainly on the
latter,--where they were already engaged, hand to hand, with the
Spaniards. The thunder of the explosions did not conceal from the novice
the shrieks of his countrymen. His blood boiled with fury:
"Come with me, Jacinto," he cried. "We will reach Fogoso; and then I can
do my duty to my friends, and smite these accursed murderers, without
deserting thee."
He dragged the trembling page after him; he darted among the cannoniers,
and passed the artillery. He reached the Tlascalans, who followed the
van,--but havoc was already among their ranks. As he gained them, he
perceived the shelving sides of the causeway lined with canoes, from
which were springing up, like locusts, a cloud of Mexicans, brandishing
their glassy maces, and rushing with the yells of wolves upon their
ancient foes. Barbarians were mingled with barbarians in one hideous
mass of slaughter, impassable and impenetrable.
His heart sunk within him. "I have prejudiced thy life, as well as my
own, this night," he said. "Would that I had never left the back of
Fogoso!"
Before he had yet time to resolve whether to return to the cannoniers,
or to make one more effort to pierce the bloody mass, he was descried by
the crew of a piragua, which, that moment, was urged upon the dike with
such violence, that it was split in twain by the shock. The eager
warriors rushed up the ascent with a shriek of exultation, and
brandished their spears. The neophyte retreated; but neither the
rapidity of his steps, nor the keenness of his blows, would, perhaps,
have availed against their numbers, enfeebled as he was, and trammelled
by the grasp of the affrighted Jacinto, had not a party of Spanish
footmen, flying from the rear, come that moment to his aid. These,
though they forced the barbarians to give way, were, in their turn,
driven back upon the cannon; and Don Amador was fain to follow them.
The audacity of the foe seemed still to increase rather than diminish;
and, twice or thrice, efforts were made by certain valiant madmen among
them, to spring to land immediately in the mouths of the cannon. These
were instantly speared by the many desperate Spaniards, who, flying from
their posts in the rear, which were now known to be in extremity, took
refuge among the artillery, as the only place of safety, and there
fought with better resolution.
In the meanwhile, the efforts of the enemy still remaining unabated, the
prisoners and many of the rear-guard pressing wildly forward, and Don
Hernan and most of the officers having fled to the front, from which
they had not returned, the gunners were themselves seized with a panic;
and, without regarding the death on which they were thus rushing, began
to leave their pieces, and fly. The representations of Don Amador served
to arrest some of them, and other soldiers taking their places at the
guns, they yielded passively to his instructions; and he found himself,
at once, in the post of a commander.
The many bitter reflections that harrowed his own bosom, he spoke not,
and sharply he reprimanded others, who were yielding to despair.
Whatever might be the difficulty of advancing, he felt that such a
measure was become indispensable, as promising the only hope of
salvation: for every instant the clamours increased on the rear, as if,
there, the barbarians had attacked in the greatest numbers, and were
approaching nearer to the cannon, flushed with slaughter and victory. He
instructed the gunners in what manner they should rush forwards with
their charged pieces, pointed obliquely, so as to sweep the sides of the
dike, shoot them off, when arrested by too determined a front of
resistance, and, loading quickly, take advantage of the confusion
following each discharge, so as to gain as much ground as possible,
while still manfully fighting. He hoped, thus, besides succouring the
Tlascalans in front, and giving room for the rear-guard to follow, to
reach the second ditch, where, as he had heard, the beam still gave
passage to the footmen, but where his most sanguine wishes could point
him out no other hope than to stand by the cannon till relieved, or
abandon them and fly, as, it seemed to him, all had done, who had
already crossed the breach.
He animated the gunners with his voice, and with his actions; and so
great was the effect of the discharges on the Indians landing, that the
artillerymen were able to rush forwards perhaps a score yards, after
each volley; thus convincing all of the wisdom of the measure, and the
probability of escape.
Two circumstances, however, greatly diminished the exultation, which the
cavalier would have otherwise felt at the success of his stratagem.
Though the Tlascalans in front ever responded to the shouts of his
gunners, and though each discharge seemed to bring him nearer to them,
yet ever, when a volley was preceded by the loud "_Viva!_" meant to
encourage the allies, the answer seemed to come from the same distance,
and the mass of feathered warriors, lit up by the discharge, disclosed
the bodies of none but frowning Mexicans. The other circumstance was
still more appalling; the space behind, left vacant by his advance, was
occupied no longer by foot or horse, by treasure-bearer or prisoner, by
Spanish musketeer or Tlascalan spearman. A few dusky groups could be
seen running to and fro, behind; but yet they seemed rather to rush
backwards than to follow after.
"God save the rear-guard!" he muttered, "for it is surely
surrounded.--On, brave cannoniers! Cortes shall not be ignorant of your
deeds this night, and Don Carlos, the emperor, shall know of your fame."
The shout, with which the cannoniers again poured forth the deadly
volley, was repeated with victorious energy, when the Mexicans,
scattered by the discharge, or leaping to avoid it, into the water,
parted away from before them; and they found themselves, suddenly, upon
the brink of the second ditch. The great beam lay in its place; but the
dark water in the chasm was filled and agitated by the bodies of men,
wounded and suffocating. The white tunic of the Mexican was confounded
with the plume of a Christian cavalier; the red arm of an
infidel,--Tlascalan or foeman,--shook by the side of a Castilian spear;
the white visages of dead men rolled on the necks of drowning horses;
bales of rich cotton stuffs,--lances dancing up and down like the leaded
bulrushes of children,--armour of escaupil,--garments, and bodies of
dying and dead,--were floating together in such horrible confusion, that
the water seemed to heave and bubble as with a living corruption.
The sight of the ditch and the beam clear of enemies, fired the
cannoniers with new hopes; and in the frenzy of their joy, they would
instantly have dropped their fuses and handspikes, and taken to flight,
had it not been that Don Amador flung himself upon the beam, and
striking the first man dead, commanded them still to stand to their
pieces.
"Base caitiffs are ye all," he cried, "who, thus having the victory, and
the lives of half the army, in your hands, should so desert your posts,
in the midst of triumph! Wheel round half your pieces, and sweep the
causey sides behind;--for I hear the coming of friends. Would ye give up
your pieces to infidels? They are your safety!"
The reproof of the cavalier, the sight of their dead comrade, and the
sword which had punished him, still commanding the narrow pathway, the
voices of Christians behind, but, more than all, the manifest truth of
the declaration, that their safety depended on their remaining by the
artillery, turned the gunners, at once, from their purpose; and their
resolution received a new confirmation, when a Christian voice was heard
shouting in the front, as if of some cavalier, heading a band of
returning friends, and, when, the next moment, a Spanish soldier was
seen to run towards them, leap on the beam, and then spring from it to
the causeway.
"Santiago, and shoot on!" cried the overjoyed gunners; "for Cortes is
coming!"
"What, ho, knave Lazaro!" cried the novice, as the blaze of the
discharge showed him in the new comer, the countenance of his henchman.
"Where goest thou? Wherefore hast thou left the horses? And where is Don
Hernan?"
"Master! dear master, is it thou?" cried Lazaro, with such a shout of
joy as drowned even the yells of death about him. "Quick, for the love
of God! over the beam, with all these varlets,--for life! for life! for
Don Hernan is fled, and all the cavaliers!"
"Peace, thou villain!--Heed not this trembling fool," exclaimed Amador,
quickly. "You hear!--the last ditch is bridged and free, and ye can, at
any moment, reach the firm land, as the cavaliers have done.--Give me
another volley or two, for God, for the honour of Spain, and for your
friends, who are fast approaching. We will march together with the
whole rear, to ensure safety. Quick!--See ye not how yonder fiends are
rushing into your muzzles? Viva! A bold shot for St. James, and our
people!"
The cavalier turned to Lazaro: he was bleeding, and he cast a look of
despair on his master.
"Why art thou idle? thou wert bred to the linstock, sirrah. Show thyself
a Christian man and true.--Hark! hearest thou not? 'Tis the shout of De
Leon! Bravely, bold hearts! the rear-guard is nigh.--Hah! halon, halon!
Don Pedro!"
"'Tis the voice of the secretary!" cried Lazaro; "and God help me, but
he cries for succour!"
"Ho, senor! senor Don Amador! for the love of Christ!"--the wild shout
of Fabueno, for the neophyte could no longer doubt it was he, was
suddenly interrupted: the shrill shriek of a woman succeeded; and, then,
every thing was lost in a hurricane of yells, so intermingled that no
one could say whether they came from Christians or pagans.
"Stay--drop thy match,--hold me this boy, as thou holdest thy life, and
suffer none to pass the beam----"
"For the sake of the cross thou adorest, the maiden thou lovest!" cried
the terrified boy, clinging to the cavalier, "leave me not, oh leave me
not, in this horror, to die alone! The Mexicans will kill me, for I have
now no gown of a priestess to protect me----"
Notwithstanding the boiling excitement of the novice, these last words
filled his brain with strange thoughts, but still so confused that they
were more like the momentary phantasms of delirium, than the proper
suggestions of reason. But whatever they were, they were instantly
driven out of his mind, by another cry from Fabueno, seemingly hard by,
but so feeble and wailing, that a less acute ear might have supposed it
came from a considerable distance.
He shook the boy off, flung him into the arms of Lazaro, crying, "Answer
his safety with thy life!--with thy life!" and immediately darted
through the cannoniers, and retraced his steps on the causeway.
By this time, the fire on the pyramid had attained its greatest
brilliancy, and the wind having died entirely away, it projected its
lofty spire to heaven, and burned with a tranquillity which seemed to
leave it motionless; while its reflection on that part of the lake which
shared not in the agitations of conflict, produced a spectacle of peace
in singular contrast with the horrible scene of carnage, that moment
represented on the causeway. The light it shed, though it made objects
visible even as far as the second ditch, did not illuminate the furthest
part of the dike; and there, whatever deed of death might be presented,
was hidden from the eyes of all but the actors themselves.
Raising his voice aloud, and running towards the nearest group, Don
Amador sought out the secretary. But this group, before he had yet
reached it, started away, and fled, with loud cries, towards the city,
or to where the tumult was greatest; and he knew by their shouts of
'Tlatelolco! ho, Tlatelolco!' that they were Mexicans. On the spot they
had thus deserted, the novice stumbled over the body of a man, his
throat cut from ear to ear, his cotton armour torn to pieces; and from
the shreds, as the carcass rolled under his foot, there fell out,
rattling and jingling on the stones, divers vessels of gold and jewels,
such as had been grasped in the treasury.
Without pausing to survey this victim of covetousness, the cavalier ran
on; and, hearing many Christian voices, ringing now with curses, now
with prayers, and now with shouts of triumph, he called out at the top
of his voice,--
"On, brothers! on to the artillery! advance!--Strike well, and
forward!--Ho, Lorenzo! comrade! where art thou? and why answerest thou
not?"
A gurgling sound, as of one suffocating in the flood, drew his eye to
the lake almost under his feet. The water rippled, as if lately
disturbed by the falling of some heavy body; and just where the circling
waves washed sluggishly up the shelving dike, there lay a white mass
like a human figure, the head and shoulders buried in the tide. The wash
of the ripple stirred the garments, and, in part, the corse, so that it
still seemed to be living; but when the novice had caught it up, he
beheld the visage of a very youthful girl, her forehead cloven by a
sword of obsidian, and the broken weapon wedged fast in the brain. At
the same instant, the water parted hard by, and there rose up a dark
object, that seemed the back of a horse, across which lay the body of a
man in bright armour, the legs upwards, but the head and breast
ingulfed. For an instant, this dreary sight was presented; but, slowly,
the steed, whose nostrils were still under water, as if held down by the
grasp of the dead rider, rolled over on his side, and the body, slipping
off the other way, sunk headlong and silently into the flood, followed
presently by the horse; and the next moment the waters were at rest.
"God rest thee, Lorenzo!" cried the novice, laying down the corse of
Eugracia. "Thy life and thy hopes, thy ambition and thy love, are ended
together--but now can I not lament thee!"
He started up, as the causeway suddenly shook with the tramp of hoofs,
and a cavalier, without spear or helm, dashed madly by. Almost at the
moment of passing, whether it was that the strength of the fugitive had
suddenly given out, or whether, as seemed more probable, a flight of
arrows had been sent in pursuit, and struck both horse and rider, the
steed made a fierce bound into the air; and then pursued his course,
masterless.
"Follow onwards, ye men of the rear!" cried the novice, struck with a
sudden horror; for now he became conscious that the artillery had been,
for several moments, silent; and when he looked after the flying steed,
though he could not, at that distance, perceive any thing, he could hear
fierce voices mingling together in strife; and presently the riderless
horse, as if driven back by a wall of foes, returned, passing him again
with the speed of the wind.
The limbs of the cavalier were nerved with the strength of fury; for he
thought he heard the screams of Jacinto, ascending with the harsher
cries of the gunners; and scarcely did that frightened charger fly more
swiftly from the battle, than he himself now back to it.
"Thy duty, knave Lazaro!" he cried. "The boy!--save the boy!"
"Don Amador! oh Amador! Don Amador!" came to his ears, in a voice that
rent his heart.
"I come! I come!" shouted the cavalier, redoubling his exertions, but
not his speed, for that was at the highest.
"Oh heaven, Amador! Amador!----"
In his distraction, the neophyte confounded two voices into one; and
while he replied to one, his thoughts flew to another.
"I come! Answer me--where art thou? I am here:--where art thou!"
As he uttered these words, he sprang through the artillery, which was
without servers,--among bodies which were lifeless,--and stood
alone,--for there was no living creature there but himself,--on the
borders of the sluice, the beam over which was broken off in the middle,
and the further portion, only, left standing in its place.
He cast his amazed and affrighted eye from the water, heaving as before
with the struggles of dying men, to the corpse on whose bosom he was
standing.--In the grinning countenance, covered with blood, and horribly
mutilated by a blow which had pierced through the mouth, jaws, and
throat, to the severed spine, he beheld the features of Lazaro, fixed in
death; and looked wildly at his side, to discover the body of the page.
No corse of Jacinto was there; but, on the ground, where he had stood,
on the spot where he had charged him to stand, the novice perceived a
jewel, catching a ray from the distant fire, glittering red, as with
blood, and held by a golden chain to which it was attached, in the
death-grasp of the henchman. He snatched it from the earth and from the
hand of the dead and looking on it with a stare of horror, beheld the
holy and never to be forgotten cross of rubies.
With that sight, the scales fell from his eyes, and a million of wild
thoughts beset his brain. The magical knowledge of the page, coupled
with his childish and effeminate youth,--his garments, so fitted to
disguise,--his scrupulous modesty,--his tears, his terrors, his
affection, and his power over the mind of the cavalier,--the garb of the
priestess, so lately acknowledged,--the vision in the house of the Wali,
Abdalla,--the cross of jewels, doubtless snatched from the neck of
Jacinto, when barbarians were tearing him from the faithful Lazaro,--all
these came to the brain of the cavalier with the blaze and the shock of
a cannon, suddenly discharged at his ears. He looked again to the corses
about him--they were those of the gunners; to the ditch--it writhed no
more; and then, uttering the name of Leila, he sunk, in a stupor, to the
earth.