On June 24, 1520, the army reached the same causeway by which they had

before entered the capital; but now no crowds lined the roads, and no

pirogues swarmed upon the lake; a death-like stillness brooded over the

scene. As they marched across Cortes ordered the trumpets to sound, and

their shrill notes were answered by a joyful peal of artillery from the

beleaguered fortress. The soldiers quickened their pace, and all were

soon in the city once more. But here the appearance of things was far

from reassuring. In many places they saw the smaller bridges had been

taken away; the town seemed deserted, and the tramp of the horses

awakened melancholy echoes in the deserted streets. When they reached

the palace the great gates were speedily thrown open, and Cortes and his

party were eagerly welcomed by the garrison, who had much to tell and to

hear. Of course the general's first inquiry was as to the origin of the

tumult, and this was the story he heard.

The Aztec festival called 'The incensing of Huitzilopochtli' was about

to be celebrated, in which, as it was an important one, nearly all the

nobles took part. The caciques asked the permission of Alvarado to

perform their rites in the teocalli which contained the chapel of the

Spaniards, and to be allowed the presence of Montezuma. This latter

request was refused, but he consented to their using the teocalli

provided they came unarmed and held no human sacrifice. Accordingly, on

the day appointed the Aztecs assembled to the number of at least six

hundred. They wore their magnificent gala costumes, with mantles of

featherwork sprinkled with precious stones, and collars, bracelets, and

ornaments of gold. Alvarado and his men, fully armed, attended as

spectators, and when the hapless natives were engaged in one of their

ceremonial dances, they fell upon them suddenly, sword in hand. Then

followed a great and dreadful slaughter. Unarmed, and taken unawares,

the Aztecs were hewn down without resistance. Those who attempted to

escape by climbing the wall of serpents were speared ruthlessly, till

presently not one of that gay company remained alive; then the Spaniards

added the crowning horror to their dreadful deed by plundering the

bodies of their murdered victims. The tidings of the massacre flew like

wildfire through the capital, and every long-smothered feeling of

hostility burst forth in the cry that arose for vengeance. The city rose

in arms to a man and almost before the Spaniards could secure themselves

in their defences, they were assaulted with desperate fury: some of the

assailants attempted to scale the walls, others succeeded in partially

undermining and setting fire to the works. It is impossible to say how

the attack would have ended, but the Spaniards entreated Montezuma to

interfere, and he, mounting the battlements, conjured the furious people

to desist from storming the fortress out of regard for his safety. They

so far respected him that they changed their operations into a regular

blockade, throwing up works round the palace to prevent the egress of

the Spaniards, and suspending the market so that they might not obtain

any supplies, and then they sat down to wait sullenly till famine should

throw their enemies into their hands.

The condition of the besieged was gloomy enough. True their provisions

still held out, but they suffered greatly from want of water, that

within the enclosure being quite brackish, until a fresh spring was

suddenly discovered in the courtyard. Even then the fact that scarcely a

man had escaped unwounded, and that they had no prospect before them but

a lingering death by famine, or one more dreadful still upon the altar

of sacrifice, made their situation a very trying one. The coming of

their comrades was therefore doubly welcome. As an explanation of his

atrocious act, Alvarado declared that he had but struck the blow to

intimidate the natives and crush an intended rising of the people, of

which he had received information through his spies.

Cortes listened calmly till the story was finished, then exclaimed with

undisguised displeasure, 'You have done badly. You have been false to

your trust. Your conduct has been that of a madman!' And so saying, he

turned and left him abruptly, no doubt bitterly regretting that he had

entrusted so important a command to one whose frank and captivating

exterior was but the mask for a rash and cruel nature. Vexed with his

faithless lieutenant, and embarrassed by the disastrous consequences of

his actions, Cortes for the first time lost his self-control, and

allowed his disgust and irritation to be plainly seen. He treated

Montezuma with haughty coldness, even speaking of him as 'this dog of a

king' in the presence of his chiefs, and bidding them fiercely go tell

their master and his people to open the markets, or he would do it for

them to their cost. The chiefs retired in deep resentment at the insult,

which they comprehended well enough from his look and gesture, and the

message lost nothing of its effect in transmission. By the suggestion of

Montezuma, Cortes now released his brother Cuitlahua, thinking he might

allay the tumult and bring about a better state of things. But this

failed utterly, for the prince, who was bold and ambitious, was bitterly

incensed by the injuries he had received from the Spaniards. Moreover,

he was the heir presumptive to the crown, and was welcomed by the people

as a substitute for the captive Montezuma. So being an experienced

warrior, he set himself to arrange a more efficient plan of operations

against the Spaniards, and the effect was soon visible. Cortes,

meanwhile, had so little doubt of his ability to quench the insurrection

that he said as much in the letter that he wrote to the garrison of

Villa Rica informing them of his safe arrival in the capital. But his

messenger had not been gone half-an-hour before he returned breathless

with terror, and covered with wounds, saying that the city was in arms,

the drawbridges were raised, and the enemy would soon be upon them.

Surely enough before long a hoarse, sullen roar arose, becoming louder

and louder, till from the parapet surrounding the enclosure the great

avenues that led to it could be seen dark with masses of warriors

rolling on in a confused tide towards the fortress, while at the same

time the flat roofs of the neighbouring houses were suddenly covered, as

if by magic, with swarms of menacing figures, brandishing their

weapons--a sight to appal the stoutest heart.

FIGHTING IN MEXICO.

When notice was given of the approach of the Aztecs, each man was soon

at his post, and prepared to give them a warm reception. On they came,

rushing forward in dense columns, each with its gay banner, and as they

neared the enclosure they set up the hideous yell or shrill whistle used

in fight, which rose high above the sound of their rude musical

instruments. They followed this by a tempest of stones, darts, and

arrows, which fell thick as rain on the besieged, and at the same time

those upon the roofs also discharged a blinding volley. The Spaniards

waited until the foremost column was within fire, and then, with a

general discharge of artillery, swept the ranks of their assailants,

mowing them down by hundreds. The Mexicans for a moment stood aghast,

but soon rallying swept boldly forward over the prostrate bodies of

their comrades: a second and third volley checked them and threw their

ranks into disorder, but still they pressed on, letting off clouds of

arrows, while those on the house-tops took deliberate aim at the

soldiers in the courtyard. Soon some of the Aztecs succeeded in getting

close enough to the wall to be sheltered by it from the fire of the

Spaniards, and they made gallant efforts to scale the parapet, but only

to be shot down, one after another, as soon as their heads appeared

above the rampart. Defeated here, they tried to effect a breach by

battering the wall with heavy pieces of timber, but it proved too strong

for them, and then they shot burning arrows among the temporary

buildings in the courtyard. Several of these took fire, and soon a

fierce conflagration was raging, which was only to be checked by

throwing down part of the wall itself, and thus laying open a formidable

breach. This was protected by a battery of heavy guns, and a file of

arquebusiers, who kept up an incessant volley through the opening. All

day the fight raged with fury, and even when night came, and the Aztecs

suspended operations according to their usual custom, the Spaniards

found but little repose, being in hourly expectation of an assault.

Early the next morning the combatants returned to the charge. Cortes did

not yet realise the ferocity and determination of the Mexicans, and

thought by a vigorous sortie he would reduce them to order, and, indeed,

when the gates were thrown open, and he sallied out, followed by his

cavalry, supported by a large body of infantry and Tlascalans, they were

taken by surprise and retreated in some confusion behind a barricade

which they had thrown up across the street.

But by the time Cortes had ordered up his heavy guns and demolished the

barrier they had rallied again, and though, when the fight had raged all

day, Cortes was, on the whole, victorious, still he had been so harassed

on all sides by the battalions of natives who swarmed in from every side

street and lane, by those in canoes upon the canal, and by the showers

of huge stones from those upon the house-tops, that his losses had been

severe. Earlier in the day he had caused a number of houses to be burned

to rid himself of some of his tormentors, but the Aztecs could probably

better afford to lose a hundred men than the Spaniards one, and the

Mexican ranks showed no signs of thinning. At length, exhausted by toil

and hunger, the Spanish commander drew off his men, and retreated into

his quarters, pursued to the last by showers of darts and arrows; and

when the Spaniards re-entered their fortress, the Indians once more

encamped round it; and though through the night they were inactive,

still they frequently broke the stillness with menacing cries and

insults.

'The gods have delivered you into our hands at last!' they said.

'Huitzilopochtli has long cried for his victims. The stone of sacrifice

is ready--the knives are sharpened. The wild beasts in the palace are

roaring for their feast.' These taunts, which sounded dismally in the

ears of the besieged, were mingled with piteous lamentations for

Montezuma, whom they entreated the Spaniards to deliver up to them.

Cortes was suffering much from a severe wound and from his many

anxieties, and he determined to induce Montezuma to exert his authority

to allay the tumult. In order to give greater effect to his appearance

he put on his imperial robes. His mantle of blue and white was held by a

rich clasp of the precious 'chalchivitl,' which with emeralds of

uncommon size, set in gold, also ornamented other portions of his dress.

His feet were shod with golden sandals, and upon his head he wore the

Mexican diadem. Surrounded by a guard of Spaniards and preceded by a

golden wand, the symbol of sovereignty, the Indian monarch ascended the

central turret of the palace. His presence was instantly recognised by

the people, and a magical change came over the scene: the clang of the

instruments and the fierce cries of the assailants ceased, and many in

the hushed throng knelt or prostrated themselves, while all eyes were

turned with eager expectation upon the monarch whom they had been taught

to regard with slavish awe. Montezuma saw his advantage, and in the

presence of his awestruck people felt once more a king. With his former

calm authority and confidence he addressed them:

'Why do I see my people here in arms against the palace of my fathers?

Is it that you think your sovereign a prisoner, and wish to release him?

If so you have done well; but you are mistaken. I am no prisoner. The

strangers are my guests. I remain with them only for choice, and can

leave them when I will. Have you come to drive them from the city? That

is unnecessary; they will depart of their own accord if you will open a

way for them. Return to your homes then. Lay down your arms. Show your

obedience to me, whose right it is. The white men shall go back to their

land, and all shall be well again within the walls of Mexico.'

As Montezuma declared himself the friend of the detested strangers a

murmur of contempt ran through the multitude. Their rage and desire for

vengeance made them forget their ancient reverence, and turned them

against their unfortunate monarch.

'Base Aztec,' they cried, 'woman, coward! The white men have made you a

woman, fit only to weave and spin.'

A chief of high rank brandished a javelin at Montezuma, as these taunts

were uttered, and in an instant the place where he stood was assailed

with a cloud of stones and arrows. The Spaniards, who had been thrown

off their guard by the respect shown by the people on their lord's

appearance, now hastily interposed their shields, but it was too late:

Montezuma was wounded by three of the missiles, one of which, a stone,

struck him on the head with such violence that he fell senseless to the

ground. The Mexicans, shocked at their own sacrilegious act, set up a

dismal cry, and dispersed panic-stricken until not one of all the host

remained in the great square before the palace. Meanwhile, the unhappy

king was borne to his own apartments, and as soon as he recovered from

his insensibility the full misery of his situation broke upon him. He

had tasted the last bitterness of degradation. He had been reviled and

rejected by his people. Even the meanest of the rabble had raised their

hands against him, and he had nothing left to live for. In vain did

Cortes and his officers endeavour to soothe the anguish of his spirit

and encourage him to hope for better things. Montezuma answered not a

word. His wounds, though dangerous, need not have proved fatal had he

not refused all remedies, tearing off the bandages as often as they were

applied, and maintaining all the while a determined silence. He sat

motionless, with downcast eyes, brooding over his humiliation; but from

this painful scene the Spanish general was soon called away by the new

dangers which threatened the garrison.

[Illustration: MONTEZUMA ASSAILED BY MISSILES]

Opposite to the Spanish quarters stood the great teocalli of

Huitzilopochtli, rising to a height of nearly a hundred and fifty feet,

and thus completely commanding the palace occupied by the Spaniards. A

body of five or six hundred Mexicans, many of them nobles and warriors

of the highest rank, now took possession of the teocalli, whence they

discharged such a tempest of arrows upon the garrison that it was

impossible for any soldier to show himself for an instant outside his

defences without great danger, while the Mexicans themselves were

completely sheltered. It was absolutely necessary that they should be

dislodged, and Cortes entrusted the task to his chamberlain Escobar,

giving him a hundred men for the purpose. But after making three

desperate attempts, in which he was repulsed with considerable loss,

this officer returned unsuccessful, and Cortes determined to lead the

storming party himself, though he was suffering much from a wound which

disabled his left hand. He made the arm serviceable, however, by

strapping his shield to it, and thus prepared sallied forth at the head

of three hundred chosen cavaliers and several thousand of the Indian

allies. In the courtyard of the temple a body of Mexicans was drawn up

to oppose him, and he charged them briskly, but the horses could not

keep their footing on the slippery pavement, and many of them fell.

Hastily dismounting the Spaniards sent the animals back to their

quarters, and then, renewing the assault, had little difficulty in

dispersing the Indians and securing a passage to the teocalli. And now

began a great and terrible struggle. You will remember that the huge

pyramid-shaped teocalli was built in five divisions, growing smaller and

smaller, till at the top you came out upon a square platform, crowned

only by the two sanctuaries in which stood the images of the Aztec gods.

You will also remember that the only ascent was by flights of stone

steps on the outside, one above another, and that it was necessary

between each flight to pass by a kind of terrace, right round the

building, so that a distance of nearly a mile had to be traversed before

reaching the top. Cortes sprang up the lower stairway, followed by

Alvarado, Sandoval, Ordaz, and the other gallant cavaliers, leaving a

strong detachment to hold the enemy in check at the foot of the temple.

On every terrace as well as on the topmost platform the Aztec warriors

were drawn up to dispute his passage. From their elevated position they

showered down heavy stones, beams, and burning rafters, which thundering

along the stairway overturned the ascending Spaniards and carried

desolation through their ranks. The more fortunate, eluding or springing

over these obstacles, succeeded in gaining the first terrace, where they

fell upon their enemies and compelled them to give way, and then, aided

by a brisk fire from the musketeers below, they pressed on, forcing

their opponents to retreat higher and higher, until at last they were

glad to take shelter on the broad summit of the teocalli. Cortes and his

companions were close behind them, and the two parties soon found

themselves face to face upon this strange battle-field, engaged in

mortal combat in the presence of the whole city, while even the troops

in the courtyard ceased hostilities, as if by mutual consent, and

watched with breathless interest the issue of the struggle.

The Spaniards and Mexicans closed with the desperate fury of men who

have no hope but in victory. Quarter was neither asked nor given, and to

fly was impossible. The edge of the platform was unprotected by parapet

or battlement, and many of the combatants, as they struggled together,

were seen to roll over the edge of the precipice, locked in a

death-grip. Cortes himself but narrowly escaped this frightful fate. Two

powerful warriors had seized upon him, and were dragging him violently

towards the side of the pyramid, when, by sheer strength, he tore

himself from their grasp and hurled one of them over the brink with his

own arm.

[Illustration]

The battle raged unceasingly for three hours. The number of the Mexicans

was double that of the Spaniards, but the armour of the latter and their

skill as swordsmen outweighed the odds against them. Resistance grew

fainter and fainter on the side of the Aztecs. The priests, who had run

to and fro among them with streaming hair and wild gestures, encouraging

and urging them on, were all slain or captured. One by one the warriors

fell dead upon the blood-drenched pavement, or were hurled from the

dizzy height, until at last the wild struggle ceased, and the Spaniards

stood alone upon the field of battle. Their victory had cost them dear,

for forty-five of their comrades lay dead, and nearly all the remainder

were more or less seriously wounded; but there was no time for regrets.

The victorious cavaliers rushed to the sanctuaries to find that the

cross and the image of the Virgin had disappeared from the one they had

appropriated, and that in the other, before the grim figure of

Huitzilopochtli, lay the usual offering of human hearts, possibly those

of their own countrymen! With shouts of triumph the Spaniards tore the

hideous idol from its niche, and in the sight of the horror-stricken

Aztecs hurled it down the steps of the teocalli, and, after having set

fire to the sanctuaries, descended joyfully into the courtyard.

Passing through the ranks of the Mexicans, who were too much dismayed by

all they had witnessed to offer any resistance, they reached their own

quarters in safety, and that very night they followed up the blow they

had struck by sallying forth into the sleeping town and burning three

hundred houses. Cortes now hoped that the natives were sufficiently

subdued to be willing to come to terms with him. He therefore invited

them to a parley, and addressed the principal chiefs, who had assembled

in the great square, from the turret before occupied by Montezuma. As

usual, Marina interpreted for him, and the Indians gazed curiously at

their countrywoman, whose influence with the Spanish general was well

known. Cortes told them that they must now know how little they had to

hope from their opposition to the Spaniards. They had seen their gods

trampled in the dust, their altars destroyed, their dwellings burned,

and their warriors falling on all sides. 'All this,' he continued, 'you

have brought upon yourselves by your rebellion. Yet, for the sake of the

affection felt for you by the sovereign you have treated so unworthily,

I would willingly stay my hand if you will lay down your arms and return

once more to your obedience. But if you do not,' he concluded, 'I will

make your city a heap of ruins, and leave not a soul alive to mourn over

it.'

But the Spanish commander did not yet understand the character of the

Aztecs if he thought to intimidate them by menaces. It was true, they

replied, that he had destroyed their temples, broken in pieces their

gods, and massacred their countrymen. Many more doubtless were yet to

fall under their terrible swords. But they were content so long as for

every thousand Mexicans they could shed the blood of a single white man.

'Look out,' they said, 'upon our streets and terraces. See them still

thronged with warriors as far as your eyes can reach. Our numbers are

scarcely diminished by our losses. Yours, on the contrary, are lessening

hour by hour. Your provisions and water are failing. You are perishing

from hunger and sickness; you must soon fall into our hands. _The

bridges are broken down, and you cannot escape!_ There will be too few

of you left to glut the vengeance of our gods.' With this they

discharged a volley of arrows, which compelled the Spaniards to beat a

speedy retreat from the turret. The fierce answer of the Aztecs filled

the besieged with dismay.

The general himself, pressed by enemies without and factions within,

was, as usual, only roused to more energetic action by a situation which

would have paralysed any ordinary mind. He calmly surveyed his position

before deciding what course he would pursue. To retreat was hazardous,

and it mortified him cruelly to abandon the city in which he had so long

been master and the rich treasure which he had secured, with which he

had hoped to propitiate the King of Spain. To fly now was to acknowledge

himself further than ever from the conquest and to give great

opportunity to his enemy, the Governor of Cuba, to triumph over him. On

the other hand, with his men daily diminishing in strength and numbers,

with the stock of provisions so nearly exhausted that one small daily

ration of bread was all the soldiers had, with the breaches in his

fortifications widening every day and his ammunition nearly gone, it was

manifestly impossible to hold the place much longer against the enemy.

Having reached this conclusion, the next difficulty was to decide how

and when it would be well to evacuate the city. He tried to fight his

way out, but he failed, and when night fell the Mexicans dispersed as

usual, and the Spaniards, tired, famished, and weak from their wounds,

slowly re-entered the citadel, only to receive tidings of a fresh

misfortune. Montezuma was dead. 'The tidings of his death,' says the old

Spanish chronicler, 'were received with real grief by every cavalier and

soldier in the army who had had access to his person, for we all loved

him as a father, and no wonder, seeing how good he was.'

Montezuma's death was a real misfortune for the Spaniards. While he

lived there was still a possibility of his influence with the natives

being of use to them. Now that hope was gone. The Spanish commander

showed all respect for his memory. His body, arrayed in its royal robes,

was laid upon a bier, and borne on the shoulders of those nobles who had

remained with him to the last to his subjects in the city, whose

wailings over it were distinctly heard by the Spaniards; but where he

was buried, and with what honours, they never knew.

The Spanish general now called a council to decide as speedily as

possible the all-important question of the retreat. It was his intention

to fall back upon Tlascala, and once there to arrange according to

circumstances his future operations. There was some difference of

opinion as to the hour of departure; but owing to the predictions of a

soldier named Botello, who pretended to be able to read the stars, and

who announced that to leave the city at night would be for the good of

his comrades, though he himself would meet his death through it, it was

decided that the fortress should be abandoned that very night. After

events proved that Botello's prophecy was unfortunately only true as far

as he himself was concerned.

The general's first care was to provide for the safe conveyance of the

treasure. The soldiers had most of them converted their share into gold

chains or collars which could be easily carried about their persons. But

the royal fifth, with that of Cortes himself and his principal officers,

was in bars and wedges of solid gold.

That belonging to the crown was now given in charge to the royal

officers, with the strongest horse to carry it, and a special guard for

its protection. But much treasure belonging to the crown and to private

individuals was necessarily abandoned, and the precious metal lay in

shining heaps upon the floors of the palace. 'Take what you will of it,'

said Cortes to the soldiers; 'better you should have it than those

Mexican hounds. But be careful not to overload yourselves: he travels

safest who travels lightest.' His own wary soldiers took heed to his

counsel, taking few treasures, and those of the smallest size. But the

troops of Narvaez thought that the very mines of Mexico lay open before

them, and the riches for which they had risked so much were within their

reach at last. Rushing upon the spoil, they loaded themselves with all

they could possibly carry or stow away.

Cortes next arranged the order of march. The van consisted of two

hundred Spanish foot, commanded by Sandoval, with twenty other

cavaliers. The rest of the infantry formed the rear-guard under Alvarado

and De Leon, while the general himself took charge of the centre, some

of the heavy guns, the baggage, the treasure, and the prisoners, among

whom were a son and two daughters of Montezuma, Cacama, and several

nobles. The Tlascalans were pretty equally divided among the three

divisions. The general had previously superintended the construction of

a portable bridge to be laid across the open canals. This was entrusted

to the care of an officer named Magarino and forty men, all pledged to

defend the passage to the last extremity. Well would it have been if

three such bridges had been made, but the labour would have been great

and the time was short. At midnight all was ready, and after a solemn

mass had been celebrated by Father Olmedo, the Spaniards for the last

time sallied forth from the ancient fortress, the scene of so much

suffering and of such great courage.

THE NIGHT OR HORROR.

The night was dark, and a fine rain fell steadily. The vast square

before the palace was deserted, as indeed it had been since the death of

Montezuma, and the Spaniards made their way across it as noiselessly as

possible, and entered the great street of Tlacopan. Though to their

anxious eyes every dark lane and alley seemed to swarm with the shadowy

forms of their enemies, it was not really so, and all went well until

the van drew near the spot where the street opened upon the causeway.

Before the bridge could be adjusted across the uncovered breach the

Mexican sentinels stationed there fled, raising the alarm as they went.

The priests from the summits of the teocallis heard them, and sounded

their shells, while the huge drum upon the desolate temple of the

war-god sent forth its solemn sound, which--heard only in seasons of

calamity--vibrated through every corner of the capital. The Spaniards

saw that there was no time to be lost; the bridge was fitted with all

speed, and Sandoval rode across first to try its strength, followed by

the first division, then came Cortes with the baggage and artillery, but

before he was well over, a sound was heard as of a stormy wind rising in

a forest. Nearer and nearer it came, and from the dark waters of the

lake rose the plashing noise of many oars. Then a few stones and arrows

fell at random among the hurrying troops, to be followed by more and

more, ever thicker and faster, till they became a terrible blinding

storm, while the air was rent with the yells and war-cries of the enemy,

who seemed to be swarming in myriads over land and lake.

The Spaniards pushed on steadily, though the Mexicans, dashing their

canoes against the sides of the causeway, clambered up and broke in upon

their ranks. The soldiers, anxious only to make their escape, simply

shook them off, or rode over them, or with their guns and swords drove

them headlong down the sides of the dyke again. But the advance of such

a body of men necessarily took time, and the leading files had already

reached the second gap in the causeway before those in the rear had

cleared the first. They were forced to halt, though severely harassed by

the fire from the canoes, which clustered thickly round this opening,

and many were the urgent messages which were sent to the rear, to hurry

up the bridge. But when it was at length clear, and Magarino and his

sturdy followers endeavoured to raise it, they found to their horror

that the weight of the artillery and the horses passing over it had

jammed it firmly into the sides of the dyke, and it was absolutely

immovable. Not till many of his men were slain and all wounded did

Magarino abandon the attempt, and then the dreadful tidings spread

rapidly from man to man, and a cry of despair arose. All means of

retreat were cut off; they were held as in a trap. Order and discipline

were at an end, for no one could hope to escape except by his own

desperate exertions. Those behind pressed forward, trampling the weak

and wounded under foot, heeding not friend or foe. Those in front were

forced over the edge of the gulf, across which some of the cavaliers

succeeded in swimming their horses, but many failed, or rolled back into

the lake in attempting to ascend the opposite bank. The infantry

followed pell-mell, heaped one upon the other, frequently pierced by the

Aztec arrows, or struck down by their clubs, and dragged into the canoes

to be reserved for a more dreadful death. All along the causeway the

battle raged fiercely.

[Illustration]

The Mexicans clambered continually up the sides of the dyke, and

grappled with the Spaniards, till they rolled together down into the

canoes. But while the Aztec fell among friends, his unhappy antagonist

was secured, and borne away in triumph to the sacrifice. The struggle

was long and deadly, but by degrees the opening in the causeway was

filled up by the wreck of the waggons, guns, rich bales of stuffs,

chests of solid ingots, and bodies of men and horses which had fallen

into it; and over this dismal ruin those in the rear were able to reach

the other side. Cortes had found a place that was fordable, and, halting

halfway across, had vainly endeavoured to check the confusion, and lead

his followers safely to the opposite bank. But his voice was lost in the

wild uproar; and at length, attended by a few trusty cavaliers, he

pushed forward to the front. Here he found Sandoval and his companions,

halting before the last breach, trying to cheer on the soldiers to

attempt the crossing; but, though not so beset with enemies as the last,

it was wide and deep, and the men's resolution failed them. Again the

cavaliers set the example, by plunging into the lake. Horse and foot

followed, swimming or clinging to the manes and tails of the horses.

Those fared best, as the general had predicted, who travelled lightest,

and many were the unfortunate wretches, who, weighed down by the fatal

treasure, were buried with it at the bottom of the lake. Cortes, with a

few others, still kept in advance, leading the miserable remnant off the

causeway. The din of battle was growing faint in the distance, when the

rumour reached them that, without speedy succour, the rearguard must be

utterly overwhelmed. It seemed a desperate venture, but the cavaliers,

without thinking of the danger, turned their horses, and galloped back

to the relief of their comrades. Swimming the canal again, they threw

themselves into the thick of the fray. The first gleam of morning light

showed the hideous confusion of the scene; the masses of combatants upon

the dyke were struggling till the very causeway seemed to rock, while as

far as the eye could see, the lake was covered with a dense crowd of

canoes full of warriors. The cavaliers found Alvarado unhorsed, and,

with a mere handful of followers, defending himself against an

overwhelming tide of the enemy, who by this time possessed the whole

rear of the causeway, and received constant reinforcements from the

city. The Spanish artillery, which had done good service at first, had

been overthrown, and utterly confounded by the rush from the back. In

the general ruin, Cortes strove by a resolute charge to give his

countrymen time to rally, but it was only for a moment: they were

speedily borne down by the returning rush. The general and his

companions were forced to plunge into the lake once more, though with

their numbers reduced this time, and Alvarado stood for an instant upon

the brink, uncertain what to do. There was no time to be lost. He was a

tall and powerful man. Setting his long lance firmly on the wreck which

strewed the lake, he gave a mighty leap which landed him in safety upon

the opposite bank. Aztecs and Tlascalans looked on in amazement at this

almost incredible feat, and a general shout arose. 'This is truly the

Tonatiuh--the Child of the Sun.' To this day, the place is called

'Alvarado's Leap.' Cortes now rode to the front, where the troops were

straggling miserably off the fatal causeway. Most fortunately, the

attention of the Aztecs was diverted by the rich spoil that strewed the

ground, and their pursuit ceased, so that the Spaniards passed

unmolested through the village of Popotla. There the Spanish commander

dismounted from his weary steed, and sitting down on the steps of an

Indian temple, looked mournfully on while the broken files dragged

slowly past. It was a piteous spectacle. The cavalry, many of them

dismounted, were mingled with the infantry, their shattered mail

dripping with the salt ooze, and showing through its rents many a

ghastly wound; their firearms, banners, baggage, artillery, everything

was gone. Cortes, as he looked sadly on their thin, disordered ranks,

sought in vain many a familiar face, and missed more than one trusty

comrade who had stood by his side through all the perils of the

conquest; and accustomed as he was to conceal his emotions, he could

bear it no longer, but covered his face with his hands, while he wept

tears of anguish. It was, however, some consolation to him that Marina

had been carried safely through the awful night by her faithful guards.

Aguilar was also alive, and Martin Lopez, who had built two boats for

him in Mexico, as well as Alvarado, Avila, Sandoval, Olid, and Ordaz.

[Illustration]

But this was no time to give way to vain regrets. Cortes hastily mounted

again and led his men as speedily as possible through Tlacopan, and, as

soon as he reached the open country, endeavoured to bring his

disorganised battalions into something like order. The broken army,

half-starved, moved slowly towards the coast. On the seventh morning the

army reached the mountain range which overlooks the plains of Otumba.

All the day before, parties of the enemy had hovered round, crying

vindictively, 'Hasten on. You will soon find yourselves where you cannot

escape!' Now, as they climbed the steep hillside, Cortes realised what

this meant, for his scouts came back reporting that a powerful body of

Aztecs was encamped upon the other side waiting for them, and truly

enough, when they looked down into the valley, they saw it filled with a

mighty host of warriors who had been gathered together by Cuitlahua, and

stationed at this point to dispute the passage of the Spaniards. Every

chief of importance had taken the field with his whole array. As far as

the eye could reach extended a moving mass of glittering shields and

spears, mingled with the banners and bright feather-mail of the

caciques, and the white cotton robes of their followers. It was a sight

to dismay the stoutest heart among the Spaniards, and even Cortes felt

that his last hour was come. But since to escape was impossible, he

disposed his little army to the best advantage, and prepared to cut his

way through the enemy or perish in the attempt. He gave his force as

broad a front as possible, protecting it on each flank with his cavalry,

now reduced to twenty horsemen, who were instructed to direct their long

lances at the faces of the enemy, and on no account to lose their hold

of them. The infantry were to thrust, not strike, with their swords, and

above all to make for the leaders of the enemy, and then, after a few

brave words of encouragement, he and his little band began to descend

the hill, rushing, as it seemed, to certain destruction. The enemy met

them with the usual storm of stones and arrows, but when the Spaniards

closed with them, their superiority became apparent, and the natives

were thrown into confusion by their own numbers as they fell back from

the charge. The infantry followed up their advantage, and a wide lane

was opened in the ranks of the enemy, who receded on all sides as if to

allow them a free passage. But it was only to return with fresh fury,

and soon the little army was entirely surrounded, standing firmly,

protected on all sides by its bristling swords and lances, like an

island in the midst of a raging sea. In spite of many gallant deeds and

desperate struggles, the Spaniards found themselves, at the end of

several hours, only more deeply wedged in by the dense masses of the

enemy. Cortes had received another wound, in the head, his horse had

fallen under him, and he had been obliged to mount one taken from the

baggage train. The fiery rays of the sun poured down upon the nearly

exhausted soldiers, who were beginning to despair and give way, while

the enemy, constantly reinforced from the rear, pressed on with

redoubled fury. At this critical moment the eagle eye of Cortes, ever on

the watch for any chance of arresting the coming ruin, descried in the

distance a chief, who, from his dress and surroundings, he knew must be

the commander of the Aztec forces. He wore a rich surcoat of

feather-work, and a gorgeous plume of jewelled feathers floated from his

helmet, while above this, and attached to his back between the

shoulders, showed a golden net fastened to a short staff--the customary

symbol of authority for an Aztec commander. Turning quickly round to

Sandoval, Olid, Alvarado, and Avila who surrounded him, he cried,

pointing to the chief, 'There is our mark! Follow and support me!' And

shouting his war-cry he plunged into the thickest of the press. Taken by

surprise the enemy fell back; those who could not escape were trampled

under his horse's feet, or pierced by his long lance; the cavaliers

followed him closely; in a few minutes they were close to the Aztec

chief, and Cortes hurled him to the ground with one stroke from his

lance; a young cavalier named Juan de Salamanca hastily dismounted and

slew him where he lay, and tearing away his banner presented it to the

Spanish general. The cacique's guard, overpowered by this sudden onset,

fled precipitately, and their panic spread to the other Indians, who,

on hearing of the death of their chief, fought no more, but thought only

of escape. In their blind terror they impeded and trampled down their

own comrades, and the Spaniards, availing themselves fully of the

marvellous turn affairs had taken, pursued them off the field, and then

returned to secure the rich booty they had left behind them.

[Illustration]

Cortes reached Tlascala in safety, and at once began to prepare his

revenge on the Mexicans, aided by reinforcements of a few Spaniards from

Vera Cruz. Gunpowder had also to be manufactured, and a cavalier named

Francio Montano undertook the perilous task of obtaining sulphur for the

purpose from the terrible volcano of Popocatepetl. He set out with four

comrades, and after some days journeying, they reached the dense forest

which covered the base of the mountain, and forcing their way upward,

came by degrees to a more open region. As they neared the top the track

ended, and they had to climb as best they could over the black glazed

surface of the lava, which, having issued from the crater in a boiling

flood, had risen into a thousand odd forms wherever it met with any

obstacle, and continually impeded their progress. After this they

arrived at the region of perpetual snow, which increased their

difficulties, the treacherous ice giving way at every step, so that many

times they narrowly escaped falling into the frozen chasms that yawned

all round them. At last, however, they reached the mouth of the crater,

and, crawling cautiously to the very edge, peered down into its gloomy

depths. At the bottom of the abyss, which seemed to them to go down into

the very heart of the earth, a lurid flame burned sullenly, sending up a

sulphureous steam, which cooling as it rose, fell again in showers upon

the sides of the cavity. Into this one of the brave explorers had to

descend, and when they had cast lots the choice fell upon Montano

himself. His preparations were soon made, and his companions lowered him

in a basket into the horrible chasm to a depth of four hundred feet, and

there as he hung, he scraped the sulphur from the sides of the crater,

descending again and again until he had procured enough for the wants of

the army, with which they returned triumphantly to Tlascala. Meanwhile

the construction of the ships went forward prosperously, and by

Christmas, in the year 1520, there was no longer any reason to delay the

march to Mexico.

[Illustration]

While all these preparations were being made, some changes had taken

place among the Aztecs. Cuitlahua had suddenly died after reigning four

months, and Guatemozin his nephew had been chosen in his stead. This

young prince had married one of Montezuma's daughters. He was handsome

and valiant, and so terrible that his followers trembled in his

presence. He had a sort of religious hatred of the Spaniards, and

prepared manfully to meet the perils which he saw threatening his

country, for by means of spies he had kept a watch upon the movements of

the Spaniards, and had discovered their intention of besieging the

capital. Cortes, upon reviewing his army, found that his whole force

fell little short of six hundred men, of whom forty were cavalry, and

eighty arquebusiers and cross-bowmen. The rest were armed with sword,

target, and the long copper-headed pikes, which had been made specially

by the general's directions. There were also nine cannons of moderate

size, but the supply of powder was but indifferent. Cortes published a

code of strict regulations for the guidance of his men before they set

out, and addressed them as usual with stirring words, touching all the

springs of devotion, honour, and ambition in their hearts, and rousing

their enthusiasm as only he could have done. His plan of action was to

establish his headquarters at some place upon the Tezcucan lake, whence

he could cut off the supplies from the surrounding country, and place

Mexico in a state of blockade until the completion of his ships should

enable him to begin a direct assault. The most difficult of the three

ways into the valley was the one Cortes chose; it led right across the

mountain chain, and he judged wisely that he would be less likely to be

annoyed by the enemy in that direction. Before long the army halted

within three leagues of Tezcuco, which you will remember was upon the

opposite shore of the lake to Mexico, and somewhat further north. Up to

this time they only had had a few slight skirmishes with the Aztecs,

though beacon fires had blazed upon every hill-top, showing that the

country was roused. Cortes thought it very unlikely that he would be

allowed to enter Tezcuco, which was now reigned over by Coanaco, the

friend and ally of Guatemozin. But the next morning, before the troops

were well under arms, came an embassy bearing a golden flag, and a gift

for Cortes, and imploring him to spare Coanaco's territories, and to

take up his quarters in his capital. Cortes first sternly demanded an

account of the Spaniards who, while convoying treasure to the coast, had

been slain by Coanaco just when Cortes himself was retreating to

Tlascala. The envoys declared at once that the Mexican emperor alone was

to blame; he had ordered it to be done, and had received the gold and

the prisoners. They then urged that to give them time to prepare

suitable accommodation for him, Cortes should not enter Tezcuco until

the next day; but disregarding this he marched in at once, only to find

the place deserted, and Coanaco well on his way across the lake to

Mexico. The general, however, turned this to his own advantage by

assembling the few persons left in the city, and then and there electing

a brother of the late sovereign to be ruler in his place, and when a few

months later he died, he was succeeded by Ixtlilxochitl, son of

Negahualpilli, who, always a friend of the Spaniards, now became their

most valuable ally, and by the support of his personal authority and all

his military resources, did more than any other Aztec chieftain to rivet

the chains of the strangers round the necks of his own countrymen.

THE SIEGE AND SURRENDER OF MEXICO.

The city of Tezcuco, which lay about half a league from the shore of the

lake, was probably the best position Cortes could have chosen for the

headquarters of the army. His first care was to strengthen the defences

of the palace in which they were lodged, and next to employ eight

thousand Indian labourers in widening a stream, which ran towards the

lake, so that when the ships arrived they might be put together in

Tezcuco, and floated safely down to be launched upon it. Meanwhile many

of the places in the neighbourhood sent in their submission to Cortes,

and several noble Aztecs fell into his hands. These men he employed to

bear a message to Guatemozin, in which he deprecated the necessity of

the present hostilities, and declared himself willing to forget the

past, inviting the Mexicans by a timely submission to save their capital

from the horrors of a siege. But every man in Mexico was determined to

defend it to the uttermost, and this appeal produced no effect. The

general now turned his attention to securing all the strong places upon

the lake. Iztapalapan was the first; the attacking party, after a sharp

struggle, succeeded in entering the town; many of the inhabitants fled

in their canoes, but those who remained were massacred by the Tlascalans

in spite of all Cortes could do to restrain them. Darkness set in while

the soldiers were eagerly loading themselves with plunder; some of the

houses had been set on fire, and the flames lighted up the scene of ruin

and desolation. Suddenly a sound was heard as of the rush of the

incoming tide--and Cortes with great alarm realised that the Indians had

broken down the dykes, and that before long the low-lying ground upon

which the town stood would be under water. He hastily called off his men

and retreated, the soldiers, heavily laden, wading with difficulty

through the flood which gained fast upon them. As they left the burning

city behind them they could no longer find their way, and sometimes

plunged into deep water where many of the allies, unable to swim, were

carried away and drowned. When morning dawned they were harassed by the

enemy, who hovered round and discharged volleys of arrows and stones, so

that it was with no small satisfaction that they presently found

themselves once more within the walls of Tezcuco. Cortes was greatly

disappointed at this disastrous end of an expedition which had begun so

well, but after all the fate of Iztapalapan produced a good effect, and

many more towns sent to tender their allegiance, amongst others Otumba

and Chalco, which was a place of great importance. Cortes also managed

to induce the tribes, who though friendly to him were hostile to one

another, to forget their feuds and combine against Mexico, and to this

wise policy he owed much of his future success.

News now came from Tlascala that the ships were ready, and Sandoval was

despatched with a considerable guard to bring them to Tezcuco. On his

way he was to stop at Zoltepec, where the massacre of the Spaniards had

taken place, to find out and punish all who had had a hand in the

matter; but when they got there the inhabitants had fled. In the

deserted temples they had the horror of finding many traces of the fate

of their comrades; for beside their arms and clothing, and the hides of

their horses, the heads of several soldiers were found suspended as

trophies of victory; while traced in charcoal upon the wall in one

building were the words, in the Spanish language, 'In this place the

unfortunate Juan Juste, with many others of his company, was

imprisoned.' It was fortunate that the inhabitants had fled, for they

would have met with but scant mercy from the Spaniards, who were full of

indignation at the thought of the horrible doom which had overtaken

their companions. Sandoval now resumed his march to Tlascala, but before

he could reach it, the convoy appeared transporting the ships through

the mountain passes. Retaining twenty thousand of the warriors as a

guard, the Spanish captain dismissed the rest, and after four laborious

days Cortes and his garrison had the joy of welcoming them safe within

the walls of Tezcuco. It was not long before the general once more

sallied forth to reconnoitre the capital, and by the way to chastise

certain places which had sent him hostile messages. After an exciting

struggle Xaltocan and three other towns were taken, and a considerable

quantity of gold and food fell into the hands of the victors. Marching

on, the general found himself before Tlacopan, through whose streets he

had hurried in consternation at the end of the night of horror. It was

his intention to occupy the town, which he did after a sharp fight, just

before nightfall, and the next morning, seeing the enemy in battle array

on the open ground before the city, he marched out against them and

routed them utterly. The Aztecs fled into the town, but were driven

through its streets at the point of the lance, and compelled once more

to abandon it, after which the Tlascalans pillaged and set fire to the

houses, much against the will of Cortes, but they were a fierce race,

and sometimes dangerous to friends as well as foes. After six days the

general went back to Tezcuco, and for some time things went on as

before, with many skirmishes and expeditions against the towns

garrisoned by the Mexicans. Sandoval took several strongholds which

threatened the security of Chalco, and all the while the work upon the

canal was going rapidly forward, and the ships were nearing completion

in spite of three attempts made by the enemy to burn them. Just at this

time came the welcome news that three vessels had arrived at Villa Rica,

with two hundred men on board well provided with arms and ammunition,

and with seventy or eighty horses, and the new comers soon made their

way to Tezcuco, for the roads to the port were now safe and open.

In April 1521, Cortes started once more to scour the country with a

large force, passing quite round the great lakes, and exploring the

mountain regions to the south of them. Here he came upon Aztec forces

intrenched in strong towns, often built like eagles' nests upon some

rocky height, so that to take them was a work of great difficulty and

danger. Once he found himself before a city which it was absolutely

necessary to subdue, but he was separated from it by a cleft in the

solid rock of no great width, but going sheer down thousands of feet.

The bridges which generally crossed it had been broken down at the

approach of the Spaniards, and as they stood there, unable to advance,

the enemy's archers as usual kept up a steady fire, to which they were

unavoidably exposed. The general sent a party to seek a passage lower

down, but they met with no success until they came to a spot where two

large trees, growing one on either side of the ravine, interlaced their

branches overhead, and by this unsteady and perilous bridge one of the

Tlascalans ventured to cross. His example was soon followed, and one by

one about thirty Spaniards and some more of the natives crawled across,

swinging dizzily above the abyss. Three lost their hold and fell, but

the rest alighted in safety on the other side and attacked the Aztecs,

who were as much amazed at their sudden appearance as if they had

dropped from the clouds. Presently a temporary bridge was contrived by

which the remainder of the force managed to cross also, and before long

the town was taken, and the trembling caciques appeared before Cortes,

throwing the blame of their resistance upon the Mexicans, and promising

submission for the future.

The general then continued his march across the eastern shoulder of the

mountain, descending finally upon Xochimilco, which was built partly

upon the lake like Mexico itself, and was approached by causeways,

which, however, were of no great length. It was in the first attack upon

this town that Cortes was as nearly as possible taken prisoner by the

Aztecs. He had thrown himself into the thick of the fight with his usual

bravery, and was trying to resist an unexpected rush of the enemy, when

his horse stumbled and fell, he himself received a severe blow upon the

head before he could rise, and was seized and dragged off in triumph by

several Indians. At this moment a Tlascalan saw his danger and sprang

furiously upon his captors, trying to tear him from their grasp. Two

Spaniards also rushed to the rescue, and between them the Aztecs were

forced to quit their hold of the general, who lost no time in regaining

his saddle, and laying about him with his good sword as vigorously as

before. After a terrible struggle the enemy was driven out, and Cortes

took possession of the city. As it was not yet dusk he ascended the

principal teocalli to reconnoitre the surrounding country, and there

beheld a sight which could but cause him grave anxiety. The lake was

covered with rapidly approaching canoes full of warriors, while inland

Indian squadrons were marching up in dense columns. Xochimilco was but

four leagues from the capital, and at the first tidings of the arrival

of the Spaniards, Guatemozin had mustered a strong force and marched to

its relief. Cortes made all possible preparations for the defence of his

quarters, but not until the next day did the Mexicans attack him, and

then the battle raged long and with varying success; but in the end

Spanish discipline prevailed, and the natives were routed with such

dreadful slaughter that they made no further attempt to renew the

conflict. The city yielded a rich hoard of plunder, being well stored

with gold and feather-work, and many other articles of use or luxury, so

that when the general mustered his men upon the neighbouring plain

before resuming his march, many of them came staggering under the weight

of their spoil. This caused him much uneasiness, since their way would

be through a hostile country; but seeing that the soldiers were

determined to keep what they had so hardly won, he contented himself

with ordering the baggage to be placed in the centre guarded by part of

the cavalry, and having disposed the rest to the best advantage, they

once more set forth, at the last moment setting fire to the wooden

buildings of Xochimilco, which blazed furiously, the glare upon the

water telling far and wide the fate that had befallen it. Resting here

and there, and engaging in many skirmishes with the Aztecs who followed

them up, furious at the sight of the plunder which was being carried

away by the invaders, the army presently completed the circuit of the

lakes, and reached Tezcuco, to be greeted with the news that the ships

were fully rigged and the canal completed, so that there was no longer

any reason to delay their operations against Mexico.

It was a triumphant moment when the vessels were launched, and reached

the lake in good order. Cortes saw to their being properly armed and

manned, and then reviewed the rest of his forces, and summoned his

native allies to furnish their promised levies at once.

The general's plan of action against Mexico was to send Sandoval with

one division to take possession of Iztapalapan at the southern end of

the lake, while Alvarado and Olid were to secure Tlacopan and

Chapoltepec upon its western shore, and at the latter place destroy the

aqueduct, and so cut off the supply of fresh water from Mexico. This

they did successfully, and in several days of fierce fighting breach

after breach was carried, and the Spaniards penetrated the city as far

as the great teocalli, driving the natives before them, while the

Tlascalans in the rear filled up the gaps in the dyke as well as they

could, and brought up the heavy guns. Cortes and his men now pushed

their way into the inclosure of the temple, and some of them rushed to

the top, so lately the scene of their terrible battle, and there found a

fresh image of the war-god. Tearing away the gold and jewels with which

it was bedecked, they hurled it and its attendant priests over the side

of the pyramid, and hastened down to the assistance of their comrades,

who were by this time in a most perilous position, the Aztecs having

rallied and attacked them furiously. Indeed it seemed likely to go hard

with them, for they were driven helplessly back down the great street in

utter confusion and panic; but the timely arrival of a small body of

cavalry created a diversion in their favour, and Cortes managed to turn

them once more and drive the enemy back into the enclosure with much

loss. As it was by this time evening, he retreated in good order to

Xoloc. Though this affair caused some consternation among the Mexicans,

they speedily opened the canals and built up the ramparts again, so that

when Cortes renewed the attack the whole scene had to be gone through as

before. When they had once gained the street, however, they found it

much easier to advance, the Tlascalans having on the last occasion

pulled down many of the houses on either side. This time Cortes had

determined to destroy some of the cherished buildings of the Mexicans,

and began by setting fire to his old quarters, the palace of Axayacatl,

and then the palace of Montezuma on the other side of the great square.

The sight so maddened the natives that the Spaniards had some ado to

make good their retreat, and few reached their camp that night

unwounded. The Aztec emperor for his part made frequent sallies against

the Spaniards both by land and upon the lake, sometimes with

considerable success. At first he managed to obtain supplies of food in

canoes, under cover of the darkness, but by degrees the large towns on

the mainland, seeing the Mexicans unable to defend themselves, gave in

their allegiance to the Spaniards, and then starvation began to be felt

in the unhappy city. In spite of everything, however, all offers of

terms from Cortes were steadily refused.

At this juncture, the general was persuaded by some of his officers that

it would be well for two of the divisions to unite, and occupy the great

market-place in the heart of the town, and so at a given time they

marched along their respective causeways and entered the city. Strict

orders were given by Cortes that as they advanced every opening in the

causeways should be filled up and made secure. The attack began, and the

enemy, taken apparently by surprise, gave way and fell back; on rushed

the Spaniards by every street, eager to reach the appointed meeting

place. Only the general suspected that the enemy might be purposely

luring them on to turn upon them when they were hopelessly involved.

Taking a few men with him, he hastily proceeded to see for himself if

the way was clear should a retreat become necessary, and found, as he

had feared, that all had been too eager to be in the front to attend to

this most important duty. In the first street he traversed was a huge

gap, twelve feet wide, and at least as many deep, full of water, for it

connected two canals. A feeble attempt had been made to fill this up

with beams and rubbish, but it had been left before any good had been

done. Worse than all Cortes saw that this breach was freshly made, and

that his officers had probably rushed headlong into a snare laid by the

enemy. Before his men could do anything towards filling up the trench,

the distant sounds of the battle changed into an ever-increasing tumult,

the mingled yells and war cries, and the trampling of many feet grew

nearer, and at last, to his horror, Cortes beheld his men driven to the

edge of the fatal gulf, confused, helpless, surrounded by their foes.

The foremost files were soon hurried over the edge, some trying to swim

across, some beaten down by the struggles of their comrades, or pierced

by the darts of the Indians. In vain with outstretched hands did Cortes

try to rescue his soldiers from death, or worse still from capture; he

was soon recognised, and six of the enemy tried to seize and drag him

into a canoe. It was only after a severe struggle, in which he was

wounded in the leg, that he was rescued by his brave followers. Two were

killed in the attempt, while another was taken alive as he held the

general's horse for him to mount. In all, sixty Spaniards were captured

on this fatal day, and it was only when the rest reached their guns in

the open space before the causeway that they were able to rally and beat

back the Aztecs. The other division had fared equally ill, and were

moreover in great anxiety as to the fate of Cortes, who was reported to

have been killed. When they once more reached their quarters, Sandoval,

though badly wounded, rode into the camp of Cortes to learn the truth,

and had a long and earnest consultation with him over the disaster, and

what was next to be done. As he returned to his camp he was startled by

the sound of the great drum on the temple of the war-god, heard only

once before during the night of horror, and looking up he saw a long

file of priests and warriors, winding round the terraces of the

teocalli. As they came out upon the platform at the top he perceived,

with rage and despair, that his own countrymen were about to be

sacrificed with the usual ghastly ceremonies. The camp was near enough

to the city for the white skins of the victims and their unavailing

struggles to be distinctly seen by their comrades, who were nevertheless

powerless to help them, and their distress and fury may be imagined.

For five days the horrible scenes went on, the Mexicans feasting,

singing, and dancing, while their priests predicted that in eight days

the war-god, appeased by these sacrifices, would overwhelm their enemies

and deliver them into their hands. These prophecies had a great effect

upon the native allies of Cortes, who withdrew from him in immense

numbers. But the general treated their superstition with cheerful

contempt, and only bargained with the deserters to remain close by and

see what would happen. When the ninth day came, and the city was still

seen to be beset on every side, they ceased to believe in the oracle,

and returned, with their anger against the Mexicans rekindled, and their

confidence in the Spaniards greatly strengthened. At this time another

vessel loaded with stores and ammunition touched at Vera Cruz, and her

cargo was seized and sent on to Cortes by the governor. With his

strength thus renewed the Spanish general resumed active operations.

This time not a step was taken in advance without securing the entire

safety of the army, once and for all, by solidly building up the dykes,

filling every canal, and pulling down every house, so that slowly and by

degrees a bare open space was made, which took in more and more of the

town, till at last the unhappy Aztecs, after many desperate sallies,

were shut into the portion of the city which lay between the northern

and western causeways. Here famine and pestilence did their awful work

unchecked. The ordinary articles of food were long exhausted, and the

wretched people ate moss, insects, grass, weeds, or the bark of trees.

They had no fresh water. The dead were unburied, the wounded lay in

misery, yet all the endeavours of Cortes to induce Guatemozin and his

chiefs to submit were useless. Though the two divisions of the army had

proceeded with their work of destruction until they could join their

forces, and seven-eighths of the city lay in ruins, though the banner of

Castile floated undisturbed from the smouldering remains of the

sanctuary on the teocalli of the war-god, still the Aztecs defied the

conquerors, and fiercely rejected their overtures of peace.

Hundreds of famishing wretches died every day, and lay where they fell,

for there was no one to bury them. Familiarity with the spectacle made

men indifferent to it. They looked on in dumb despair waiting for their

own turn to come. There was no complaint or lamentation, but deep,

unutterable woe. In the midst of this appalling misery Guatemozin

remained calm and courageous, and as firmly resolved not to capitulate

as at the beginning of the siege. It is even said that when Cortes

persuaded a noble Aztec prisoner to bear his proposals for a treaty to

the emperor, Guatemozin instantly ordered him to be sacrificed. The

general, who had suspended hostilities for several days hoping for a

favourable answer to his message, now resolved to drive him to

submission by a general assault, and for that purpose led his men across

the dreary waste of ruins to the narrow quarter of the city into which

the wretched Mexicans had retreated. But he was met by several chiefs,

who, holding out their emaciated arms, exclaimed, 'Why do you delay so

long to put an end to our miseries? Rather kill us at once that we may

go to our god Huitzilopochtli, who waits to give us rest from our

sufferings!'

Cortes, moved by the piteous sight, replied that he desired not their

death but their submission. 'Why does your master refuse to treat with

me,' he said, 'when in a single hour I can crush him and all his

people?' Then once more he sent to demand an interview with Guatemozin.

This time the emperor hesitated, and agreed that next day he would meet

the Spanish general. Cortes, well satisfied, withdrew his force, and

next morning presented himself at the appointed place in the great

square, where a stone platform had been spread with mats and carpets and

a banquet made ready. But after all Guatemozin, instead of coming

himself, sent his nobles. Cortes, though greatly disappointed, received

them courteously, persuading them to partake of the feast he had

prepared, and dismissing them with a supply of provisions for their

master and a renewed entreaty that he would next day come in person. But

though he waited for three hours beyond the time appointed, neither the

emperor nor his chiefs appeared, and the general heard that the Mexicans

were preparing to resist an assault. He delayed no longer, but ordering

Sandoval to support him by bringing up the ships and directing his big

guns against the houses near the water, he marched at once into the

enemy's quarters. The Mexicans set up a fierce war-cry, and with their

usual spirit sent off clouds of arrows and darts; but the struggle soon

became a hand-to-hand one; and weakened by starvation and hemmed in as

they were the unhappy Aztecs had no chance against their foes. After a

scene of indescribable horror, which appalled even the soldiers of

Cortes, used as they were to war and violence, the Spanish commander

sounded a retreat and withdrew to his quarters, leaving behind him forty

thousand corpses and a smouldering ruin. Through the long night that

followed all was silent in the Mexican quarter. There was neither light

nor movement. This last blow seemed to have utterly stunned them. They

had nothing left to hope for. In the Spanish camp, however, all was

rejoicing at the prospect of a speedy termination to the wearisome

campaign. The great object of Cortes was now to secure the person of

Guatemozin, and the next day, which was August 18, 1521, he led his

forces for the last time across the black and blasted ruin which was all

that remained of the once beautiful city. In order to give the

distressed garrison one more chance, he obtained an interview with the

principal chiefs and reasoned with them about the conduct of their

emperor.

'Surely,' he said, 'Guatemozin will not see you all perish when he can

so easily save you.' But when he had with difficulty prevailed upon them

to urge the king to confer with him, the only answer they could bring

was that Guatemozin was ready to die where he was, but would hold no

communication with the Spanish commander. 'Go then,' replied the stern

conqueror, 'and prepare your countrymen for death. Their last moment is

come.' Still, however, he postponed the attack for several hours; but

the troops were impatient at the delay, and a rumour spread that

Guatemozin was preparing to escape by the lake. It was useless to

hesitate: the word was given, and the terrible scene that ensued

repeated the horrors of the day before. While this was going forward on

shore numbers of canoes pushed off across the lake, most of them only

to be intercepted and sunk by the Spanish ships, which beat down upon

them, firing to right and left. Some few, however, under cover of the

smoke, succeeded in getting into open water. Sandoval had given

particular orders that his captains should watch any boat that might

contain Guatemozin, and now two or three large canoes together attracted

the attention of one named Garci Holguin, who instantly gave chase, and

with a favourable wind soon overtook the fugitives, though they rowed

with the energy of despair. As his men levelled their guns at the

occupants of the boat one rose saying, 'I am Guatemozin; lead me to

Malinche; I am his prisoner. But let no harm come to my wife and

followers.'

[Illustration]

Holguin took them on board, and then requested that the emperor would

order the people in the other canoes to surrender. 'There is no need,'

he answered sadly, 'they will fight no longer when they see their prince

is taken.' And so it was, for when the news of his capture reached the

shore the Mexicans at once ceased to defend themselves. It seemed as if

they had only gone on so long to give their sovereign a better chance

of escape. Cortes, who had taken up his station on the flat roof of one

of the houses, now sent to command that Guatemozin should be brought

before him, and he came, escorted by Sandoval and Holguin, who each

claimed the honour of having captured him. The conqueror, who was, as

usual, accompanied by the Lady Marina, came forward with dignified

courtesy to receive his noble prisoner. The Aztec monarch broke the

silence saying, 'I have done all I could to defend myself and my people.

I am now reduced to this state. Deal with me, Malinche, as you will.'

Then laying his hand on a dagger which hung from the belt of Cortes, he

added, 'Better despatch me at once with this and rid me of life.'

'Fear not,' answered the conqueror. 'You shall be treated with honour.

You have defended your capital like a brave warrior, and a Spaniard

knows how to respect valour even in an enemy.' He then sent for the

queen, who had remained on board the Spanish ship, and after ordering

that the royal captives should be well cared for and supplied with all

they needed, he proceeded to dispose of his troops. Olid and Alvarado

drew off their divisions to their quarters, leaving only a small guard

in the wasted suburbs of the pestilence stricken city, whilst the

general himself, with Sandoval and the prisoners, retired to a town at

the end of the southern causeway. That night a tremendous tempest arose,

such as the Spaniards had never before witnessed, shaking to its

foundations all that remained of the city of Mexico. The next day, at

the request of Guatemozin, the Mexicans were allowed to leave the

capital, and for three days a mournful train of men, women, and children

straggled feebly across the causeways, sick and wounded, wasted with

famine and misery, turning often to take one more look at the spot which

was once their pleasant home. When they were gone the conquerors took

possession of the place and purified it as speedily as possible, burying

the dead and lighting huge bonfires in the deserted streets. The

treasure of gold and jewels found in it fell far short of the

expectation of the Spaniards, the Aztecs having probably buried their

hoards or sunk them in the lake on purpose to disappoint the avarice of

their enemies. Cortes, therefore, to his eternal disgrace, caused

Guatemozin to be tortured; but fire and cord could not wring the secret

of the treasure from this illustrious prince. In later days Cortes

hanged Guatemozin, on pretence of a conspiracy. Cortes, having no

further need for his native allies, now dismissed them with presents

and flattering speeches, and they departed well pleased, loaded with the

plunder of the Mexican houses, which was despised by the Spanish

soldiers. Great was the satisfaction of the conquerors at having thus

brought the long campaign successfully to an end. Cortes celebrated the

event by a banquet as sumptuous as circumstances would permit, and the

next day, at the request of Father Olmedo, the whole army took part in a

solemn service and procession in token of their thankfulness for

victory.

Thus, after a siege of nearly three months, in which the beleaguered

Mexicans showed a constancy and courage under their sufferings which is

unmatched in history, fell the renowned capital of the Aztecs, and with

its fall the story of the nation comes to an end.

The Aztec empire fell by its own sin. The constant capture of men from

neighbouring states as victims for sacrifice had caused the Aztecs to be

hated; thus Cortes obtained the aid of the Tlascalans, but for which

even his courage and energy would have been of no avail. He deserted

Marina when she ceased to be useful, and gave her as a wife to one of

his followers.

FOOTNOTE:

[28] In 1121 Bishop Eric left Iceland for Vinland, part of America

discovered by Leif the Lucky (1000-1002). Bishop Eric was heard of no

more. Can he have reached the Aztecs, and been regarded as a god?

_ADVENTURES OF BARTHOLOMEW PORTUGUES, A PIRATE_

A CERTAIN pirate, born in Portugal, and from the name of his country

called Bartholomew Portugues, was cruising from Jamaica in his boat (in

which he had only thirty men and four small guns) near the Cape de

Corrientes, in the island of Cuba. In this place he met with a great

ship bound for the Havana, well provided, with twenty great guns and

threescore and ten men, passengers and mariners. This ship he assaulted,

but found strongly defended by them that were on board. The pirate

escaping the first encounter, resolved to attack her more vigorously

than before, seeing he had sustained no great damage hitherto. This

resolution he boldly performed, renewing his assaults so often that

after a long and dangerous fight he became master of the great vessel,

having lost only ten men, and had four wounded.

Having possessed themselves of such a ship, and the wind being contrary

for returning into Jamaica, the pirates resolved to steer towards the

Cape of St. Anthony, on the western side of the isle of Cuba, there to

repair themselves and take in fresh water, of which they had great

necessity at the time.

Being now very near the cape above mentioned, they unexpectedly met with

three great ships that were coming from New Spain, and bound for the

Havana. By these, not being able to escape, were easily retaken both

ship and pirates. Thus they were all made prisoners through the sudden

change of fortune, and found themselves poor, oppressed, and stripped of

all the riches they had won.

Two days after this misfortune there happened to arise a huge and

dangerous tempest, which separated the ships one from another. The great

vessel in which the pirates were arrived at Campeche, where many

considerable merchants came to salute and welcome the captain. These

knew the Portuguese pirate as one who had committed innumerable crimes

upon these coasts, not only murders and robberies, but also lamentable

burnings, which those of Campeche still preserved very fresh in their

memory.

The next day after their arrival the magistrates of the city sent

several of their officers to demand and take into custody the prisoners

from on board the ship, with intent to punish them according to their

deserts. Yet fearing lest the captain of the pirates should escape out

of their hands on shore (as he had formerly done, being once their

prisoner in the city before), they judged it more convenient to leave

him safely guarded on board the ship for the present. In the meanwhile

they caused a gibbet to be erected, whereon to hang him the very next

day, without any other form of trial than to lead him from the ship to

the place of punishment.

The rumour of this tragedy was presently brought to the ears of

Bartholomew Portugues, and he sought all the means he could to escape

that night. With this design he took two earthen jars, in which the

Spaniards usually carry wine from Spain to the West Indies, and he

stopped them very well, intending to use them for swimming, as those who

are unskilled in that art do a sort of pumpkins in Spain, and in other

places they use empty bladders. Having made this necessary preparation,

he waited for the night when all should be asleep, even the sentry that

guarded him. But seeing he could not escape his vigilance, he secretly

purchased a knife, and with the same gave him a stab that suddenly

deprived him of life and the possibility of making any noise. At that

instant Bartholomew Portugues committed himself to the sea, with those

two earthen jars before mentioned, and by their help and support, though

never having learned to swim, he reached the shore. Having landed,

without any delay he took refuge in the woods, where he hid himself for

three days without daring to appear, not eating any food but wild herbs.

[Illustration]

Those of the city failed not the next day to make diligent search for

him in the woods, where they concluded him to be. This strict search

Bartholomew Portugues watched from the hollow of a tree, wherein he lay

concealed. Seeing them return without finding what they sought for, he

adventured to sally forth towards the coast of Golfotriste, forty

leagues distant from the city of Campeche. Here he arrived within a

fortnight after his escape from the ship, in which time, as also

afterwards, he endured extreme hunger, thirst, and fear of falling again

into the hands of the Spaniards. For during all this journey he had no

provision but a small calabash with a little water: neither did he eat

anything but a few shellfish, which he found among the rocks nigh the

seashore. Besides this, he was compelled to pass some rivers, not

knowing well how to swim. Being in this distress, he found an old board

which the waves had thrown upon the shore, in which there stuck a few

great nails. These he took, and with no small labour whetted against a

stone, until he made them sharp like knives. With these, and no other

instruments, he cut down some branches of trees, which he joined

together with twigs and osiers, and as well as he could made a boat, or

rather a raft, with which he crossed over the rivers. Thus he reached

the Cape of Golfotriste, as was said before, where he happened to find a

certain vessel of pirates who wore great comrades of his own, and were

lately come from Jamaica.

To these pirates he instantly related all his misfortunes, and asked of

them a boat and twenty men to return to Campeche and assault the ship

that was in the river, from which he had escaped fourteen days before.

They readily granted his request, and equipped him a boat with the said

number of men. With this small company he set forth for the execution of

his design, which he bravely performed eight days after he separated

from his comrades; for being arrived at the river of Campeche, with

undaunted courage he assaulted the ship before mentioned. Those that

were on board were persuaded that Bartholomew's was a boat from the land

that came to bring goods, and therefore were not on their defence. So

the pirates assaulted them without any fear of ill success, and in a

short space of time compelled the Spaniards to surrender.

Being now masters of the ship, they immediately weighed anchor and set

sail, determining to fly from the port, lest they should be pursued by

other vessels. This they did with extreme joy, seeing themselves

possessors of such a brave ship--especially Bartholomew Portugues, their

captain, who now, by a second turn of fortune's wheel, was become rich

and powerful again, who had been so lately in that same vessel a poor

miserable prisoner, and condemned to the gallows. With this plunder he

designed to do great things, for he had found in the vessel a great

quantity of rich merchandise. Thus he continued his voyage towards

Jamaica for four days. But coming nigh to the isle of Pino, on the south

side of the island of Cuba, fortune suddenly turned her back once more,

never to show him her countenance again; for a horrible storm arising at

sea caused the ship to split against the rocks, and it was totally lost,

and Bartholomew, with his companions, escaped in a canoe.

In this manner he arrived in Jamaica, where he remained but a short

time, till he was ready to seek his fortune anew. But from that day of

disaster it was always ill-luck with him.

_THE RETURN OF THE FRENCH FREEBOOTERS_[29]

IN January, 1688, the daring band of French pirates who, sometimes

alone, sometimes in company with English captains, had been cruising in

the South Seas, resolved to return to St. Domingo with all the treasure

they had won from the Spaniards. But it was manifest that this return

would be a matter of great difficulty. They had not one seaworthy vessel

left in which to set out for a long voyage, and, with forces exhausted

by the frightful hardships they had gone through in the past years, they

had to pass through a country peopled by Spaniards--cowardly, indeed,

but innumerable, and only longing for revenge on the reckless crew that

had plundered so many of their rich ships and towns. Moreover,

provisions were scarce among the Spaniards themselves, and it seemed

likely that the freebooters, in their passage, would find scant

entertainment. But they were determined to risk everything, and having

prayed, and sunk their canoes that the Spaniards might make no use of

them, they set out on their journey. What followed is thus recounted by

one of their party, Raveneau de Lussan:--

The Spaniards, having been warned of our approach, employed every means

they could think of for our destruction, burning all the provisions

before us, setting fire to the prairies we entered, so that we and our

horses were almost stifled, and continually blocking our way with great

barricades of trees. About three hundred of them formed themselves into

a kind of escort, and morning and evening diverted us with the sound of

trumpets, but never dared to show their faces.

A detachment of our men were always set to fire into woods and thickets,

to find out if a Spanish ambush were concealed there. On January 9 we

reached an opening in the forest where we could see a good way before

us, and therefore did not fire. But we had been looking in front for

what was really on both sides of us, for in the bushes right and left

the Spaniards were crouching, and presently they let fly on us so

suddenly that only half the guard had time to fire back, and two of our

men were killed on the spot.

[Illustration]

On the 10th we found another ambush, where we surprised our enemies, who

took to flight, abandoning their horses, which became our property.

On the 11th, as we drew near Segovia, we found yet another ambuscade,

which we forced to retire, and passed into the town, ready to fight our

best--for we thought that here the Spaniards might make a great effort

to expel us. But they only discharged their muskets at us now and then

from the shelter of the pine-wood above the town, into which they had

fled. But we found nothing to eat, for they had burned all the

provisions.

On the 13th, having left Segovia, we climbed a hill which looked like a

good place to camp, and we saw opposite us, on a mountain slope from

which only a narrow valley divided us, twelve to fifteen hundred horses,

which for some time we took for cattle pasturing there. Rejoicing in the

prospect of good cheer, we sent forty men to make sure, and when they

came back they told us that what we had taken for cattle were horses,

ready saddled, and that in the same place they had found three

intrenchments a pistol shot from each other, which, rising by degrees to

about the middle of the mountain slope, entirely barred the way which we

meant to travel the next day. These intrenchments commanded the river

which ran the length of the valley, into which it was absolutely

necessary for us to descend, there being no other way. They saw a man

who, having discovered them, threatened them with a bare cutlass.

This grievous news was a bitter disappointment to us, especially the

loss of our supposed cows, for we were perishing with hunger. But we had

to take courage and find out how to leave this place--and without delay,

for the Spaniards, who were assembling from all the country round, would

fall upon our little troop, which must be overwhelmed, if we waited for

them. The means were not easy to find, and perhaps escape would have

seemed impossible, except to our reckless band, who had hitherto

succeeded in nearly all our exploits. But ten thousand men could not

have crossed that guarded valley without being cut off entirely, both by

reason of the number of the Spaniards and the position they occupied.

Men alone could have gone round without crossing the valley, but we

could find no way round for the horses and baggage. For the country on

each side was nothing but a thick forest, without the trace of a path,

all precipices and ravines, and choked with a multitude of fallen trees.

And even had we found a way of escape through so many obstacles, it was

indispensable to fight the Spaniards sooner or later, if they were ever

to let us alone!

There was only one thing to be done--to cross these woods, rocks, and

mountains, however inaccessible they seemed, and surprise our enemies,

taking advantage of the place by coming upon them from above, where they

certainly would not expect us. As to our prisoners, horses, and baggage,

since through all our march a troop of three hundred Spaniards had been

dogging our steps without daring to approach, we would leave eighty men

to guard them--enough to beat four times as many Spaniards.

At nightfall we set out, leaving our eighty men, with orders to the

sentinels to fire and beat the retreat and the diane at the usual times,

to make the three hundred Spaniards who lurked near us think that we had

not left the camp. If we were successful we would send back messengers

with the good news, but if, an hour after the firing ended, none of us

returned, they were to escape how they could.

All being arranged, we prayed in a low voice, not to be heard by the

Spaniards, and set out by the moonlight, two hundred men of us, through

this country of rocks, woods, and frightful precipices, where we went

leaping and climbing, our feet seeming to be much less use to us than

our hands and knees.

On the 14th, at the break of day, when we had already gained a great

height, and were climbing on in profound silence, with the Spanish

intrenchments to our left, we saw a sentry party, which, thanks to the

fog--always thick in this country till ten o'clock in the morning--did

not discover us. When it had passed we went straight to the place where

we had seen it, and we found that there was really a road there. This,

when we had halted half an hour to take breath, we followed, guided by

the voices of the Spaniards, who were at matins. But we had only gone a

few steps when we found two sentinels, very far advanced, on whom we

were forced to fire, which warned the Spaniards, who dreamed of nothing

less than our coming upon them from above, since they only expected us

from below. So those who guarded the intrenchment--about five hundred

men--being taken at a disadvantage when they thought they had all the

advantage on their side, were so terribly frightened that, when we fell

upon them all at once, they vanished from the place in an instant, and

escaped into the thick fog.

This unexpected assault so utterly upset their plans that the men in the

second intrenchment all passed into the lowest one, where they prepared

to defend themselves. We fought them a whole hour, under cover of the

first intrenchment, which we had taken, and which commanded them, being

higher up the mountain side. But as they would not yield we fancied our

shots must have missed, since the fog hindered us from seeing our foes

distinctly, so, resolved to waste no more powder, we went down, and fell

right on the spot whence they had been firing. Then we assailed them

furiously, and at sight of our weapons close upon them--which hitherto

the fog had concealed--they left everything, and fled into the road

below the intrenchments. Here they fell into their own trap; for,

thinking it was the only road we could possibly come by, they had cut

down trees and blocked it up, and their way being stopped, we could fire

upon them from their intrenchment without once missing aim.

At last, seeing the river in the ravine running down with blood, and

tired of pursuing the fugitives, we spared the few remaining Spaniards.

After we had chanted the 'Te Deum,' sixty of us went to tell those left

in the camp of the victory which Heaven had vouchsafed to us. We found

them on the point of giving battle to the three hundred Spaniards, who

had already (on finding out their weakness) sent a message to them by an

officer to tell them that it was hopeless for them to expect to cross

the valley, and to offer terms of peace. To which our men replied that

were there as many Spaniards as the blades of grass in the prairie they

would not be afraid, but would pass through in spite of them, and go

where they liked!

The officer, being just dismissed with this message when we arrived,

shrugged his shoulders with astonishment when he saw us safe back again,

and mounted on the horses of his comrades of the intrenchments. He rode

off with the news to his troop, whom we presently fired upon, to rid

them altogether from their desire to follow in our wake. Unfortunately

for them they had not time to mount their horses, so after a brief

conflict, in which a great number of them fell, we let the rest go,

though we kept their horses. Then, with our baggage, we joined those of

our men who had stayed to guard the intrenchments. In both these combats

we had only two men slain and four wounded.

Continuing our journey, we passed one more Spanish intrenchment, where,

since the news of our victory had gone before us, we found no

resistance. At last, on the sixteenth day of our march, we reached the

river which we had been seeking eagerly, by whose means we meant to gain

the sea into which it flowed.

At once we entered the woods which are on its banks, and everyone set to

work in good earnest to cut down trees, in order to construct

_piperies_, with which to descend the river. The reader may perhaps

imagine that these piperies were some kind of comfortable boat to carry

us pleasantly along the stream, but they were anything but this. We

joined together four or five trunks of a kind of tree with light

floating wood, merely stripping off their bark, and binding them,

instead of cord, with a climbing plant growing in those forests, and

embracing the trees like ivy, and when these structures, each large

enough to hold two men (and in appearance something like huge wicker

baskets) were completed, vessels and crew were ready.

[Illustration]

The safest plan was to stand upright in them, armed with long poles to

push them off from the rocks, against which the fierce current every

moment threatened to dash them. As it was, they sank two or three feet

deep in the water, so that we were nearly always immersed up to our

waists.

This river rises in the mountains of Segovia, and falls into the sea at

Cape Gracia a Dios, after having flowed for a long distance, with

frightful rapidity, among an infinite number of huge rocks, and between

the most terrible precipices imaginable. We had to pass more than a

hundred cataracts great and small, and there were three which the most

daring of us could not look at without turning giddy with fear, when we

saw and heard the water plunging from such a height into those horrible

gulfs. Everything was so fearful that only those who have experienced

it can imagine it; as for me, though I shall all my life have my memory

full of pictures of the perils of that voyage, it would be impossible

for me to give any idea of it which would not be far below the reality.

We let ourselves go with the current, so rapid that often, in spite of

our resistance, it bore us into foaming whirlpools, where we were

engulfed with our pieces of wood. But happily before the greatest

cataracts, and also just beyond them, there was a basin of calm water,

which made it possible for us to gain the bank, drawing our piperies

after us. Then, taking out of them whatever valuables we had there, we

descended with these, leaping from rock to rock till we had reached the

foot of the cataract. Then one of us would return and throw the

piperies, which we had left behind, down into the flood--and we below

caught them as they descended. Sometimes, indeed, we failed to catch

them, and had to make new ones.

When we first set out we voyaged all together, that in case of accident

we might come to each other's aid. But in three days, being out of all

danger of the Spaniards, we began to travel separately, since a piperie

dashed against the rocks had often been prevented from freeing itself by

other piperies which the current hurled against it. It was arranged for

those who descended first, when they came to an especially dangerous

rapid, to hoist a little flag at the end of a stick, not to warn those

behind of the cataract, since they could hear it nearly a league away,

but to mark the side on which they ought to land. This plan saved a

number of lives, nevertheless many others were lost.

The bananas which we found on the river bank were almost our only

nourishment, and saved us from dying of hunger; for, though there was

plenty of game, our powder and weapons were all wet and spoiled, so that

we could not hunt.

Some days after we had begun to descend the river, as we were travelling

separate, several freebooters who had lost all their spoils in gambling

were guilty of most cruel treachery. Having gone in advance, these

villains concealed themselves behind some rocks commanding the river, in

front of which we all had to pass, and as everyone was looking after

himself, and we descended unsuspiciously, at some distance from each

other--for the reasons already given--they had time to fix upon and to

massacre five Englishmen, who possessed greater shares of booty than the

rest of us. They were completely plundered by these assassins, and my

companion and I found their dead bodies on the shore. At night, when we

were encamped on the river bank, I reported what we had seen, and the

story was confirmed both by the absence of the dead Englishmen and of

their murderers, who dared not come back to us, and whom we never saw

again.

On the 20th of February we found the river much wider, and there were no

more cataracts. When we had descended some leagues further it was very

fine, and the current was gentle, and seeing that the worst of our

perils were over, we dispersed into bands of forty each to make canoes,

in which we might safely complete our voyage down the river.

On the 1st of March, by dint of great diligence, having finished four

canoes, a hundred and twenty of us embarked, leaving the others, whose

canoes were still incomplete, to follow.

On the 9th we reached the mouth of the river in safety, and lived there

among the mulattos and negroes who inhabit the coast, till an English

boat, touching there, took on board fifty of us, of whom I was one. On

the 6th of April, without any other accident, we arrived at our

destination, St. Domingo.

PRINTED BY

SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE

LONDON

FOOTNOTE:

[29] 'The return of the French Freebooters from the South Sea, by the

mainland, in 1688.' Written by Sieur Raveneau de Lussan, one of the

party, taken from his _Journal du voyage fait a la Mer du Sud avec les

filibustiers de l'Amerique en 1684 et annees suivantes_. Paris. 1689.

Just published. Crown 8vo. price 7_s._ 6_d._

With 546 Illustrations, including 18 Coloured Plates.

THE OUTDOOR WORLD

OR

_THE YOUNG COLLECTOR'S HANDBOOK._

By W. FURNEAUX, F.R.G.S.

CONTENTS.

PART I.--ANIMAL LIFE.

CHAP.

I. Ponds and Streams.

II. Insects and Insect Hunting.

III. The Sea-shore.

IV. Snails and Slugs.

V. Spiders, Centipedes, and Millepedes.

VI. Reptiles and Reptile Hunting.

VII. British Birds.

VIII. British Mammals.

PART II.--THE VEGETABLE WORLD.

IX. Sea-weeds.

X. Fungi.

XI. Mosses.

XII. Ferns.

XIII. Wild Flowers.

XIV. Grasses.

XV. Our Forest Trees.

PART III.--THE MINERAL WORLD.

XVI. Minerals and Fossils.

London: LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO.

New York: 15 East 16th Street.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors corrected.

The illustration that was originally on page 271 was moved to 269 so

that it would not interrupt the flow of a paragraph. This was also done

with the plate originally on page 277. It is now on page 274.

Many and varied were the hyphenations in this text due to the different

stories. Examples are: battlefield and battle-field, and bodyguard and

body-guard. These variations were retained.

Page 156, although the original does have "Ireland", possibly "Iceland"

was meant (within sight of Ireland)

Page 159, "Cortes" changed to "Cortes" (first took Cortes)

Page 237, "slik" changed to "silk" (silk--of rich and)

Page 248, "miles" changed to "feet" (seven thousand feet above)

Page 261, "sacrified" changed to "sacrificed" (reserved to be

sacrificed)

Page 266, "Atzec" changed to "Aztec" (dismay of the Aztec)