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THE INFIDEL;
OR, THE FALL OF MEXICO.
A ROMANCE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF "CALAVAR."
SECOND EDITION.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. I.
Philadelphia:
CAREY, LEA & BLANCHARD.
1835.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year
1835, by CAREY, LEA & BLANCHARD, in the Clerk's Office
of the District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
PHILADELPHIA
C. SHERMAN & CO. PRINTERS, NO. 19 ST. JAMES STREET.
--Un esforcado soldado, que se dezia _Lerma_--Se fue entre los Indios
como aburrido de temor del mismo Cortes, a quien avia ayudado a salvar
la vida, por ciertas cosas de enojo que Cortes contra el tuvo, que
aqui no declaro por su honor: nunca mas supimos del vivo, ni muerto,
mala suspecha tuvimos.
BERNAL DIAZ DEL CASTILLO--_Hist. Verd de la Conquista_.
No hay mal que por bien no venga,
Dicen adagios vulgares.
CALPERON--_La Dama Duende_.
THE INFIDEL.
CHAPTER I.
The traveller, who wanders at the present day along the northern and
eastern borders of the Lake of Tezcuco, searches in vain for those
monuments of aboriginal grandeur, which surrounded it in the age of
Montezuma. The lake itself, which not so much from the saltness of its
flood as from the vastness of its expanse, was called by Cortes the Sea
of Anahuac, is no longer worthy of the name. The labours of that unhappy
race of men, whose bondage the famous Conquistador cemented in the blood
of their forefathers, have conducted, through the bowels of a mountain,
the waters of its great tributaries, the pools of San Cristobal and
Zumpango; and these, rushing down the channel of the Tula, or river of
Montezuma, and mingled with the surges of the great Gulf, support fleets
of modern argosies, instead of piraguas and chinampas, and expend upon
foundering ships-of-war the wrath, which, in their ancient beds, was
wasted upon reeds and bulrushes. With the waters, which rippled through
their streets, have vanished the numberless towns and cities, that once
beautified the margin of the Alpine sea; the towers have fallen, the
lofty pyramids melted into earth or air, and the palaces and tombs of
kings will be looked for in vain, under tangled copses of thistle and
prickly-pear.
The royal city of Tezcuco is now, though the capital of a republican
state, a mean and insignificant village. It was originally the
metropolis of a kingdom once more ancient and powerful than that of
Mexico; and which, when it had shared the fate of all others within the
bounds of Anahuac, and acknowledged the sway of the Island Kings, still
preserved the reputed, and perhaps the real possession of superior
civilization. Its princes, in becoming the feudatories, became also the
electors, of Mexico; and thus added dignity to an independence which was
only nominal. The polished character of these barbarous chieftains, as
the world has been taught to esteem them, may be better understood, when
we know, that they sowed the roadside with corn for the sustenance of
travellers, and the protection of husbandmen, built hospitals and
observatories, endowed colleges and formed associations of literature
and science, in which, to compare small things with great, as in the
learned societies of modern Europe and America, encouragement was given
to the study of history, poetry, music, painting, astronomy, and natural
magic. The various mechanical trades were divided into corporate bodies,
and assigned, each, to some particular quarter of the city; courts and
councils were regularly established, and the laws which they dispensed,
digested into uniform and written codes, some of which are still
preserved. The kings of Tezcuco themselves mingled in the generous
rivalries which they fomented: there are still in existence,--at least,
in the form of translation,--several of the odes of Nezahualcojotl, a
royal Tezcucan poet; and his hymns to the Creator, composed half a
century before the advent of the Spaniards, were admired and chanted by
the Conquerors, until devoted by misjudging and fanatical missionaries
to the flames which consumed the written histories and laws of the
kingdom, as well as the idolatrous rituals of the priests, with which
last the others were unfortunately confounded.[1]
[Footnote 1: These poems, we presume, were handed down _orally_. We know
not how far the picture-writing of the Mexicans (the art of interpreting
which appears to be now lost,) was capable of conveying any such
thoughts as could not be represented by an absolute _portrait_. No
system of writing that is not essentially _phonetic_ or _dialectical_,
(i. e. representative of sounds, or of language,) can be made to express
abstract ideas, which may be defined to be such as admit of no
ideographic or metaphoric representation. If they could, mankind might,
at once, enjoy the benefits of the _universal language_, (or, to speak
strictly, a substitute for it; for it would convey ideas not words,)
which Leibnitz dreamed of, and Bishop Wilkins, and many others after
him, so vainly attempted to construct.
When, therefore, we relate any very curious and marvellous matters,
appertaining to Mexican _literature_, though we speak upon the authority
of historians, we invite the reader to receive our accounts with some
grains of allowance. With the exception of a few arbitrary symbols,
expressive of numerals, and a few other objects of constant recurrence,
the picture-writing of Mexico spoke in ideas, not words; and it may
therefore be assumed, that it could express nothing that did not, or by
a stretch of ingenuity, could not be made to, address and explain itself
to the eye.]
A few ruins--a cluster of dilapidated houses--a galloping Creole on his
high Spanish saddle, with glittering _manga_ and rattling
_anquera_,--and, now and then, an Indian skulking moodily along, in his
squalid _serape_,[2]--are all that remain of Tezcuco.
[Footnote 2: The Manga and Serape are Mexican cloaks worn
scapulary-wise, the one of richly embroidered cloth, the other of
blanket, or some such coarse material. The Anquera is a leather housing,
embossed and gilt, with a jingling fringe of brass or silver ornaments.]
In the spring of 1521, the year that followed the flight of the
Spaniards from Mexico, the city of the Acolhuacanese presented all its
grandeur of aspect, and, to the eye, looked full as royal and
imperishable as in the best days of its freedom. But the molewarp was
digging at its foundations; and the cloud which had ravaged the Mexican
valley, and then passed away into the east, where it lay for a time
still and small, 'like to a man's hand,' had again crept over the
mountain barriers to its gates, and was now brooding among its
sanctuaries. A group of Christian men sat under a cypress-tree, without
the walls, regarding the great pyramid, on whose lofty terrace,
overshadowing the surrounding edifices, floated a crimson banner of
velvet and gold, on which, besides the royal arms of Spain, was
emblazoned, as on the Labarum of the Constantines, a white cross, with
the legend, imitated from that famous standard of fanaticism, _In hoc
signo vincemus_. If other proof had been wanting of the return of the
Spaniards to the scene of their discomfiture, their presence in Tezcuco,
and their unchangeable resolution to complete the work of conquest so
disastrously begun, it might have been traced abundantly in the strange
spectacle, which, equally with the desecrated temple, divided the
attention of the group of Castilians at the cypress-tree. They sat on a
little swell of earth,--a natural mound which jutted into the lake,
whose waters, agitated by a western breeze, dashed in musical breakers
at its base; while the rustling of the leaves above, mingled with these
sounds of waves, a tone that was both melancholy and harmonious. The
beautiful prospect of Tezcuco, rising beyond fertile meadows in the
livery of spring, flanked, on the right hand, by a sheet of dark and
glossy water,--with white towers, turrets, and temple-tops, painted, as
it seemed, on a background of mountains of the purest azure, was enough
of itself to engross the admiration of a looker-on, had there not been
presented, hard by, a scene still more singular and romantic.
A train of warriors, artificers and labourers, the latter bending under
such burthens as had never before descended to the verge of Tezcuco, was
seen passing, at a little distance, towards the city, into which, as was
denoted by a sudden explosion of artillery and the blast of trumpets on
the top of the pyramid, the leaders were just entering, while the rear
of the procession, extending for miles, and winding like some mighty
snake, over hill and meadow, was lost among distant forests.
The martial salutation from the town was answered by the whole train
with a yell, filling the air, and causing the distant hills and lakes to
tremble with the reverberation. In this, the ear might detect, besides
the war-cry of Indians, "Tlascala, Tlascala!" the not less piercing
shouts of Spaniards, "In the name of God and Santiago!" as well as the
flourish of bugles, scattered at intervals among the train. If the broad
Sea of Anahuac trembled at the sound, it was with good reason; for the
clamour of triumph indicated the approach of those unknown naval
engines, which were to plough its undefiled bosom, and convert every
billow into the vassal of the stranger. On the shoulders of eight
thousand Tlascalans, were borne the materials for the construction of
thirteen brigantines, with which the unconquerable Spaniard, capable of
every expedient, meditated the complete investment and the certain
reduction of Tenochtitlan. The iron, the sails, and cordage of that
fleet which he had caused to be broken up and sunk in the harbour of
Vera Cruz, were added to planks, spars, and timbers from the sierras of
Tlascala, and to pitch and rosin from the _pinales_, or pine-forests, of
Huexotzinco,--a gloomy and broken desert, notorious, in the present day,
as the haunt of bandits, the most brutal and merciless in the world.
The brawny carriers of these massive materials were protected, on the
front and in the rear, by legions of their countrymen, armed, after
their wild and romantic way, and clad in tunics of cotton or maguey
cloth, with tiaras of feathers; who passed by in successive bodies of
spearmen, archers, slingers, and swordsmen, arranged and divided in the
manner of their Christian confederates. Besides these guards of front
and rear, of whom the historian Herrera asserts, there were 180,000,
while even the modest Clavigero computes their numbers at full one-sixth
of this vast host, there were on either flank, bodies of picked
warriors, marching in company with small bands of Spaniards, and
personally led by distinguished Christian cavaliers. A military man may
form a juster estimate of the numbers of the train, by being told, that
it formed a line more than six miles in length, the whole marching
compactly, and in strict order, so as to be best able to resist an
attack of enemies.
The Spaniards under the cypress-tree, surveyed this striking spectacle
with interest, but not with the grave wonder and absorbing admiration of
men unfamiliar with such scenes. On the contrary, it was evident, from
the tone of the remarks with which they wiled away the time of
observation, (for it was many a long hour before the last of the train
drew in sight,) that they were of that levity of spirit, or in that
wantonness of mood, which can find matter for ridicule in the most
serious of occurrences. Thus, they beheld, or fancied they beheld,
somewhat that was diverting in the persons, or motions, of the stern and
warlike Tlascalans, and especially in the zealous eagerness with which
these barbarians strove to imitate the bearing and gait, as well as the
evolutions, of their disciplined associates. Nay, their raillery was
extended even to the Spanish portion of the train; and, sometimes, when
a comrade passed by, if near enough to be made sensible of the jest, he
was saluted with some such outpouring of wit, as put to the proof either
his gravity or his patience.
These happy individuals, to whom we desire to introduce the reader, were
five in number, and, with a single exception, though betraying none of
the submissiveness of inferior personages, were evidently of no very
exalted rank in the Christian army. Their attire was plain, and
consisted, for the most part, of the cumbrous escaupil, or
cotton-armour, over which, in the case of one or two, at least, were
buckled a few plates of iron. Most of them had on their heads, helmets,
or rather caps, of the same flimsy material, sometimes so thickly padded
as to assume the bulk, as well as the appearance of rude turbans; all
wore swords, and two had crossbows hanging at their backs. No
distinction of station could have been inferred from their manner of
discoursing one with another; and it was only by the morion of bright
steel, richly inlaid with gold, on the head of one, and the polished
hauberk on his chest, worn more for display than for any present
service, that the wearer would have been recognized as of a grade
superior to that of his companions. He was a tall and athletic cavalier,
with a long chin, and cheeks broad and bony; and a singular and rather
unpleasing expression was added to his countenance by eyes
disproportionably small, though exceedingly black, keen, and resolute. A
small, sharply peaked beard,--mustaches so thin, long, and straight,
that they looked rather like the drooping locks of a woman than the
favourites of a vain gallant,--a narrow but lofty forehead, on either
side of which, divided and smoothed with effeminate care, fell masses of
straight black hair, touched, yet almost invisibly, with the traces of
matured manhood,--a small mouth,--a prominent nose,--and a complexion
exceedingly dark, yet rather of the hue of iron than mahogany, completed
a visage which a stranger would not have hesitated to attribute to a man
of decided character, but without daring to determine whether that was
of good or evil.
The individual who would have been the second to attract the notice of a
wayfarer, owed this distinction rather to his personal deformity than to
any other very striking characteristic. He was a hunchback, with much of
the saturnine and sour expression which distinguishes the countenances
of the deformed, and yet of a spirit so much belied by his looks, that
he heard, recognized, and constantly replied to, without anger, the
nickname of _Corcobado_, or the humpbacked, to which his misfortune
exposed him. The most observable peculiarity in his countenance, was the
uncommon length of his nose, which so far intruded upon the lower part
of his visage, as to give this a look of age, which was contradicted,
not only by other features, but by the prodigious muscularity of his
shoulders and arms. It must be confessed, however, that his lower
extremities were entirely unworthy to compare with the upper, being both
so short and thin, that when he stood upon his feet, his arms crossed
behind,--which was their ordinary position,--with the stout iron plates
protruding from both back and breast, he looked rather like a bundle of
armour and garments, exposed to the air and supported above the earth on
two broken pikestaves or javelins, than a living and human creature.
The next individual was a man of good stature, who would have been
considered, notwithstanding his grey hairs, the strongest man in the
company, had it not been for his general emaciation and an expression of
suffering on a countenance over which disease, contracted among the hot
and humid swamps of the coast, had cast the sickliest hues of jaundice.
Indeed, this discolouration, on a visage naturally none of the fairest,
was of so deep a tint, that it had gained for the invalid, as well as
for a whole ship's crew of his companions, the significant title of _Ojo
Verde_, or the Green Eye. And here we may as well observe, that, in the
army of Cortes, the wit which shows itself in the invention of such
distinctions, was so prevalent, that there was scarce a man, from the
general down to his groom or scullion, who had not been honoured by at
least _one_ sobriquet.
The fourth personage was a man of indifferent figure, remarkable for
little save the marvellous sweetness of his eyes, which were set among
features exceedingly sharp and harsh, and the volubility of his tongue.
The fifth sat apart from the others, a little down the slope of the
hillock, with tablets in his hands, yet so plunged in abstraction, or so
much wrapped up in the contemplation of the dark lake, the little
piraguas dancing over its billows, and the far-distant turrets of the
infidel city, that he seemed to have forgotten, not only the presence of
his companions, and the passing procession, but the purpose for which he
had drawn forth his writing implements.
The sound of the cannon, as we have said, was immediately responded to
by the shouts of the train; which, commencing at the gates of the city,
were continued and prolonged by the various bodies that composed the
huge and moving mass, until they died away in the distance, like peals
of rolling thunder. At the same time, the Indians struck their tabours,
and sounded their conches and cane-flutes, in rivalry with the Spanish
buglers; and a din was made, which, for a time, put a stop to the
conversation of the four Castilians. It also startled the solitary man
from his meditations, but only for an instant. He rose, turned his eye
listlessly towards the procession, and then again resuming his seat, he
was presently sunk in as profound abstraction as before.
In the meanwhile, the cavalier of the helmet had bent his gaze upon the
pyramid, from the top of which the cannon-smoke was driving slowly away
like a cloud, and revealing the proud banner, which it had for a moment
enveloped. He could see, even at this distance, that the two stone
turrets,--the idol-chambers,--on the summit, were crowned with crosses,
and that the flag-staff,--a tall cedar, that might have made a mast for
an admiral's ship,--was surrounded by a tent, or rather pavilion, of
native white cloth, broadly striped with crimson, which glittered
brilliantly at its foot. As he looked he stroked his beard, and
muttered, addressing himself to the hunchback,
"Harkee, Najara, man! give me the benefit of thy thoughts, and care not
if they come out like crab-apples. What thinkest thou of Cortes now? Is
there not something over-stately and very regal-like in the present
condition of his temper?"
"Why dost thou ask that of _me_, when thou hast Villafana at thy elbow?"
replied the hunchback, with a voice worthy the acerbity of his aspect:
"if thou wilt have dirty water, get thee to the ditch."
"You call me _Grunidor_, and grumbler I am," said he of the sweet eyes,
with a laugh. "I grumble when I am in the humour; and I care not who
knows it. Am I a ditch, old sinner? I'faith, I must be, when I have such
ill weeds as thyself growing about me. Wilt thou have _my_ thoughts,
senor Guzman, on this subject? I can speak them."
"Be quick, then," said the cavalier; "for Corcobado is digesting an
answer to thy fling, which will leave thee speechless."
"Pho, I will bandy mudballs with him at any moment," said Villafana: "I
care not for the buffets of a friend. As for the noble senor, the
Captain General, what you say is true. The king's letter hath set him
mad. While the Bishop of Burgos was still in power, and his enemy, he
was e'en a good companion,--a comrade, and no master. Demonios! 'twas a
better thing for us, when his authority rested on our good-will, and no
royal patent."
"Ay," said Guzman; "when we were but rebels and exiles, denounced by the
governor, cursed by the priest, and outlawed by the king, Cortes was the
most moderate, humble, and loving rogue of us all. I do think, he is
somewhat altered."
"Oh, senor, there is no such bond for our friendship as a consciousness
of dependence upon those who love us; and nothing so efficacious in
cooling us to friends, as the discovery that we can do without them. His
authority is no longer our gift; the bishop has fallen; the king has
acknowledged his claims, and sent him, besides a fair, lawful commission
and goodly reinforcements both of men and arms, a letter of commendation
written with his own royal hands. May his majesty live a thousand years!
but would to heaven his letter were at the bottom of the sea. It has
brought us a hard master. Can your favour solve me the riddle of the
king's change? What argument has so operated on his mind, that he now
does honour to a man he once condemned as a traitor, and advances him
into such power as leaves him independent even of the Governor of the
Islands?"
"The very same argument," replied Guzman, "which has turned thee--a
friend of Velasquez--into the most devoted, though grumbling adherent of
our Captain--_interest_, sirrah, interest. It is manifest, that this
empire was made to be won; and equally apparent, that the man who could
half subdue it, though trammelled and opposed by all the arts and power
of Velasquez, was the fittest to conclude the good work; and what was no
less persuasive, it was plain, our valiant Don was fully determined to
do the work himself, without much questioning whether the king would or
not."
"Why, by heaven!" cried Villafana, "you make out the general to be a
traitor, indeed!"
"Ay;--for, in certain cases, there is virtue in treason."
"Hark now to Villafana!" cried the hunchback, abruptly: "he will thank
you for the maxim, as if 'twere a mass for his soul."
"_I_, curmudgeon?" exclaimed the grumbler. "There were a virtue in it,
could it bring such fellows as thyself to the block. What I aver, is,
that the king's honours have spoiled our general. By'r lady, I see not
what good can come of sending us a Royal Treasurer, Franciscan friars
with bulls of St. Peter, and Lady Abbesses to build up nunneries, unless
to make up more state for our leader."
"Then art thou more thick-pated than I thought thee," replied the
cavalier. "The bulls will make us somewhat stronger of heart, and
therefore better gatherers of gold in a land where gold is not to be had
without fighting. La Monjonaza will sanctify our efforts, by converting
the women; and the king's Treasurer will see that we do not cheat the
king, after we have got our rewards, as, it is rumoured, we have done
somewhat already."
"Santos! I know what thou art pointing at, Don Francisco," said
Villafana, significantly. "The four hundred thousand crowns that have
vanished out of the treasury, hah! This is a matter that has stained the
General's honour for ever. And as for La Monjonaza, thou knowest there
are dark thoughts about her."
"Have a care," said Don Francisco. "We are friends, and friends may
speak their minds: but I cannot hear thee abuse Don Hernan."
"Hast thou never been as free thyself?" cried Villafana, with a laugh,
which mingled a careless derision with good-humour. "Come, now,--confess
thou wert pleased to be appointed Grand Guardian and Chamberlain,--or,
if thou wilt, Grand Vizier,--to his god-son, the young king of Tezcuco;
and that, since he gave thee Lerma's horse, thou hast been better
mounted than any other cavalier in the army."
"Thou art an ass. Cortes has ever been my friend; and when I have
complained, as I have sometimes done, it was only like a good house-dog,
who howls in the night-watches, because he has nothing better to amuse
him. But hold,--look! the carriers are passed. The rear-guard
approaches. Now is my friend Sandoval yonder, betwixt the two Tlascalan
chiefs, glorified in his imagination. 'Slid! he would have had me
exchange my brown Bobadil for his raw-boned Motacila!--Come, Najara, rub
up thy wit; fling me some sweet word into the teeth of the Tlascalan
generals. Dost thou perceive with what solemn visages they approach us?"
"I perceive," said Najara, "that Xicotencal is in no mood for jesting.
It is said, he comes to join us with his power reluctantly. Dost thou
see how he stalks by himself, frowning? A maravedi to a ducat, he would
sooner take us by the throat than the hand!"
"Why then, be quick, show him thy scorn in a fillip."
"Hast thou forgotten it has been decreed a matter for the bastinado, to
abuse an ally?"
"Ay!" cried Villafana, "there is another fruit of a king's patent. One
may neither laugh nor scold, gamble nor play truant, but straight he is
told of a decree. Faith, when Cortes was our plain Captain, it was
another matter: if there was aught to be done or not to do, it was then,
in simple phrase, 'I commend to your favours,' or, 'I beg of your
friendships, do me this thing,' or, 'do it not,' as was needful. But now
the Captain-General deals only in decrees or proclamations, wherein we
have commands for exhortations, prohibitions in place of dissuasions,
and, withal, a plentiful garnishing of stocks and dungeons, whips and
halters, all in the king's name. By Santiago! there is too much state in
this."
"Pho! thou art an Alguazil; why shouldst thou care?" said the Cavalier.
"The decrees are wholesome, the restrictions wise. It is right, we
should not displease the Republicans: they are our best friends,--very
quick and jealous too; and we were but a scotched snake without them."
"If they fight our battles," said Villafana, "they divide our spoil. In
my mind, that black-faced Xicotencal is a villain and traitor."
"Thy judgment is better, in such matters, than another's," said the
hunchback.
"Right!" cried Guzman; "the Alguazil will be presently in his own
stocks, if thou dost heat him into a quarrel. We are not forbidden to
abuse one another. Let the red jackalls pass by unnoticed; we have mirth
enough among ourselves,--we will worry our Immortality. Look, Najara,
man; dost thou not see in what perplexity of cogitation he is
involved,--yonder dull Bernal? Rouse him with a quip, now; pierce him
with a jest. Come, stir; rub thy nose, make thy wit as sharp as a goad,
and prick the ox out of his slumber."
"Ay, good Corcobado," cried Villafana, turning from the procession, and
mischievously eyeing their solitary and abstracted companion, "fling out
the legs of thy understanding, like a rough horse, and see if thou canst
not strike fire out of his flinty brain. All the scratching in the world
will not do it."
"Now, were you not both besotted, and bent upon self-destruction," said
the deformed, regarding the pair with a commiserating sneer, "you would
not ask me to disturb our Immortality; who is, at this moment,
meditating by what possible stretch of benevolence he can hand your
names down to posterity; a thing, which if _he_ do not effect, you may
be sure, nobody else will. Senor Guzman, 'twas but a half-hour since,
that he asked me, if I could, upon mine own knowledge, acquaint him with
any act of thine worthy of commemoration."
"Ay, indeed!" said the cavalier, laughing; "was Bernal of this mind,
then? He asked thee this question? By my faith, have I not killed as
many Indians as another? Have I not encountered as many risks, and
endured as many knocks? Out upon the misbelieving caitiff! he asked thee
this question? Thy reply now? pr'ythee, thy learned answer to this
foolish interrogatory? What saidst thou, now, in good truth?"
"In good truth, then," replied Najara, with a sour gravity, "I told him,
I had it, upon excellent authority, though I believed it not myself,
that thou wert a cavalier, equal to any, in the virtues of a
soldier,--bold, quick, and resolute,--cool and fiery,--a lover of peril,
a relisher of blood; one that had won more gold than he could pocket,
more slaves than he could make marketable, and more renown than he cared
to boast of; a prudent captain, yet a better follower, because of the
ardour of his temper, which was, indeed, upon occasion, so hot, that,
sometimes, it was feared, he might take Cortes by the beard, for being
too faint-hearted."
"Oh, thou rogue, thou merry thing of vinegar, thou hast belied me!"
cried Guzman; "thou knowest, I would sooner eat my arms,--lance,
buckler, and all,--than lift my hand against the General: I would, by my
troth, for I love him. But come, now,--thou saidst all this, upon good
authority? You jest, you rogue,--we are all jealous and envious. We have
good words from none but Cortes.--What authority?"
"Marry, upon that of thine own lips," replied the hunchback; "for I know
not who else could have invented so liberally."
"Out!" cried the cavalier, somewhat intemperately; "you presume--"
"Ha! ha! a truce, a truce, Don Francisco!" exclaimed Villafana; "a fair
hit--no quarrelling; for captain though thou be, thou knowest I am sworn
Alguazil, as well as head-turnkey, chief executioner, and the Lord knows
what beside. No wrath among friends--A very justifiable, fair hit!
Najara must have his ways. Thou wilt see, by and by, how he will lay
_me_ by the ears. Come, Corcobado, begin.--He who plays with colts, must
look to be kicked.--Come now, be sharp, fear not; I am a dog, and love
thee all the better for cudgelling."
"I know thou art, and I know thou dost," said Najara; "for I remember,
that ever since Don Hernan had thee scourged, for abusing the Tlascalan
woman, thou hast been a more loving hound than any other of the
Velasquez faction."
"Fuego de dios! Pho,--Good! Ha! ha! very good!" exclaimed Villafana,
laughing, though somewhat disconcerted. "I confess the beating; but then
I have a back to endure it--Hah! A Roland for an Oliver, a kick for a
buffet! Thou liest, though, as to the cause: 'twas for taking the old
senator they call Maxiscatzin by the beard, when he had given me the
first sop of the Maguey-liquor. I was drunk, sirrah, broke rules,
disobeyed orders, and so deserved my guerdon. Wilt thou be satisfied? By
this hand, I grumble not. I should trounce thee for the like
misdemeanour,--that is, if I could find whereon to lay my scourge. Aha!
wilt thou pull noses with me? Come, what saidst thou of me to Bernal? I
bear thee no malice, man;--no, no more than the general.--Drunk indeed?
He should have struck my head off!"
"I told him," said Najara, "that thou wert, in some sense, worthy to be
chronicled."
"Many thanks for that," said Villafana, "were it only on account of the
beating."
"For though thou wert as naturally given to grovelling as a football,
yet wouldst thou as certainly mount, at every kick, as that same bag of
wind."
"Bravo! bravo!" cried the Alguazil, with a roar of delight, in which he
was joined by Guzman; "thou art as witty and unsavoury as ever, and thou
dingest me about the ears as with a pine-tree. What else, cielo mio?
what else saidst thou to Bernal?"
"Simply, that thou hadst more boldness than would be thought of thee,
more dreams than would be reckoned of thy dull brain, and such skill at
rising, notwithstanding the clog of thy folly, that it was manifest thou
wouldst not be content, till thy feet were two fathoms from the earth,
and thy crown as near to the oak-bough as the rope would."
"Oh, fu! fy!" said Villafana, "hast thou no better trope for hanging?
Have you done? Am I despatched? Get thee to better game, then; and see
thou art more metaphoric. Hast thou no verjuice for our good friend
here, Camarga?"
The individual thus alluded to, though giving his attention to the
conversation, had maintained a profound and unsympathetic silence during
all. He stood leaning against the tree, folding over his breast, and
even wrapping about his chin, the long cloak of striped cotton
cloth--the product of the country,--the bright and gaudy colours of
which contrasted unnaturally with the sickly hue of his visage.
Throughout all, when not particularly noticed, his countenance wore an
expression of as much mental as bodily pain; but when thus accosted by
Villafana, it changed at once, and in a remarkable degree, from gloom to
good-humour, and even to apparent gayety. It is true, that, at the
moment when his name was pronounced, he started quickly with a sort of
nervous agitation; and a sudden rush of blood into his face, mingling
with its bilious stain, covered it with the swarthiest purple: but this
immediately passed away--perhaps before any of his comrades had noted
it.
"I cry you mercy, senor Villafana," he said; "I am as unworthy to be
made the butt of wit as the subject of history. My ambition runs not
beyond my conscience; the month that I have spent in this land,--and it
is scarce a month,--has been wasted in disease and idleness. A year
hence, I shall be more worthy your consideration. But tell me, good
friends, is it true, as you say, that yonder worthy soldier hath been
appointed the historian of your brave exploits? By mine honour, his head
seems to me better fitted to receive blows than to remember them, and
his hand to repay them rather than to record."
"He is, truly," said Villafana, "our Immortality, as we call him, or our
Historian, as he denominates himself. As to his appointment, it comes of
his own will, and not of our grace; but we quarrel not with his humours.
He conceives himself called to be our chronicler. Who cares? He can do
no harm. I am told, he doth greatly abuse Cortes, especially in the
matter of the slaves, and the gold we fetched from Mexico in the Flight.
By'r lady, I have heard some sharp things said about that."
"You said them yourself," muttered Najara. "It is well you are in
favour."
"Ay, by my troth," cried Guzman; "_Cuidado_, Villafana! Don Hernan will
be angry. Good luck to you! You are the lion's small dog: seize not his
majesty by the nose."
"Pho, friends! here's a coil," said the Alguazil, stoutly: "Don Hernan
knows me: I will say what I think. I have maintained to his face, that
there was foul work with the gold, and that we have been cheated
of our shares; I have told him what ill work was made of both
Repartimientos,--the partition of the slaves,--at Segura-de-la-Frontera,
and here at Tezcuco,--scurvy, knavish work, senores: One may fetch
angels to the brand, but, ay de mi! the iron turns them into beldames!"
"Ay, there is some truth in that," said Guzman, a little thoughtfully.
"No man honours Don Hernan more than myself; and yet did he suffer me to
be choused out of the princess I fetched from Iztapalapan."
"Ay, the whole army witnessed it, and there was not a man who did not
cry shame on you for taking it so--"
"Good-humouredly," interrupted the cavalier. "Rub me as thou wilt for a
jest, Villafana; but touch me not in soberness."
"Pshaw! can I not abuse thee as a friend, without the apology of a grin?
Thou hadst been used basely, had not Cortes made up the loss with
Lerma's horse. I have heard thee complain as much as another; and even
now, thou art as bitter as any against this mad scheme of the ships.
Demonios! our general will have us rot in the lake, like our friends of
the Noche Triste!"
"Thou errest," said the cavalier, gravely. "I have changed my mind, on
this subject: I perceive we shall conquer this city."
"Wilt thou be sworn to that?" exclaimed the Alguazil, earnestly. "I tell
thee, as a friend, we are all mad, and we are deluded to death. If we
launch the brigantines, we are but gods' meat--food for idols and
cannibals. We were fools to come from Tlascala. Would to Heaven we had
departed with Duero! We are toiled on to our fate, to make Cortes
famous: he will win his renown out of our corses. What sayst thou,
Najara, mi Corcobado, mi Hacedor de Tropos?"
"Even that the will-o-th'-wisps, the Ignes-fatui, rising out of our
decaying bodies, will forsake each honest man's corse, to gather,
glory-wise, about the head of our leader.--Is that to thy liking?"
"Marvellously! Thy wit explains and gives tongue to my thoughts. Thou
seest things clearly--I am glad thou art of my way of thinking. This is
our destiny, if we continue our insane enterprise."
"A pest upon thee, clod!" cried the Hunchback; "I did but supply thee a
simile, in pity of thine own barrenness. _I_ of thy way of thinking?
Dost imagine I will hang with thee? _I_ see things clearly? Marry, I do.
Give tongue to thy thoughts? Ratsbane!"
As Najara spoke, he bent his sour and piercing looks on the Alguazil;
who, much to the surprise of Camarga, grew pale, and snatched at his
dagger, in an ecstasy of rage, greatly disproportioned to the offence,
if such there could be in what seemed idle and unmeaning sarcasms. The
wrath of Villafana, however, was checked by the mirth of the cavalier,
Don Francisco, who exclaimed with the triumph of retaliation,
"A fair knock, by St. Dominic! Art thou laid by the heels, now? Sirrah
Alguazil, if thou showest but an inch more of thy dudgeon, I will have
thee in thine own stocks,--ay, faith, and on thine own block, into the
bargain. Forgettest thou the decree? Death, man, very mortal death to
any one who draws weapon upon a christian comrade: thy hidalgo blood,
(if thou hast any, as thou art ever boasting,) will not save thee. Pho!
thou art notoriously known to be a plotter. Why shouldst thou be angry?"
"_Hombre!_ I am not angry _now_: but, methinks, Corcobado hath the art
of inflaming whatever is combustible in man's body. A good friend were
he for a poor man, in the winter. Why, thou bitter, misjudging,
remorseless, male-shrew, here is my hand, in token I will not maul thee.
Why dost thou ever persecute me with thy hints? By and by, men will come
to believe thou art in earnest. _What_ dost thou see, that I care not to
have exposed? I am a plotter? I grant ye; so Cortes hath called me to my
face a dozen times, or more. I am a grumbler? So he avers, and so I
allow. I must speak what I think; ay, and I must growl, too. All this is
apparent, but it harms me not with the general: he scolds me very oft;
but who stands better in his favour?"
"Thou takest the matter too seriously," said Guzman. "Hast thou no
suspicion that thy self-commendations are tedious?"
"In such case, hadst thou ever any thyself?" demanded the unrelenting
Najara. "Pray, let him go on. Let him draw his dagger, if he will, too.
What care I? I have a better fence than the decree."
"Pshaw, man," said Villafana, "why dost thou take a frown so bitterly? I
will not quarrel with thee. But I would thou couldst be reasonable in
thy fillips: call me a knave openly, if thou wilt; thy insinuations have
the air of seriousness. But come; you have robbed the senor Camarga of
his diversion with Bernal. Lo you now, if our wrangling have disturbed
him a jot! He sits there, like an old horse of a summer's day, patient
and uncomplaining; and, all the time, there are gadfly thoughts
persecuting his imagination."
"Methinks, senores," said Camarga, "you should be curious to know in
what manner the good man records your actions. For my part, I should be
well content to be made better acquainted with them; especially with
those later exploits, since the retreat from Mexico, of which I have
heard only confused and contradictory accounts. Will he suffer us to
examine his chronicles?"
"Suffer us!" cried Guzman; "if you do but give him a grain of
encouragement, never believe me but he will requite you with pounds of
his stupidity. What, have you any curiosity?--Harkee, Bernal, man!--You
shall see how I will rouse him,--Bernal Diaz! Historian! Immortality!
what ho, senor Del Castillo! Are you asleep? Zounds, sirrah, here are
three or four dull fellows, who, for lack of better amusement, are
willing to listen to your history."