The Infidel; or, the Fall of Mexico. Vol. II.

"Good heaven!" said Juan, surveying the wasted cheeks of the monarch; "are you already so straitened? your garners already exhausted?"

"Who can reckon for so many mouths?" cried Guatimozin.

"I dreamed not of this – Sure, I have never been denied abundance!"

"My brother is a prisoner; and the women and children are feeble. Why should they want, when the warriors can endure hunger better?"

The communication of this painful intelligence nerved Juan more strongly in his purpose. He perceived the necessity of acting without delay, if he wished to protect the young infidel from the consequence of his own despairing fury, and the maiden of his love, and his sister, from a fate too dreadful to be imagined. His eagerness the more fully deluded the young monarch, not prone to suspicion where he loved, and he was soon made acquainted with the whole condition of the beleaguered city, and the situation of the Spaniards. He was also instructed in the particulars of a design of Guatimozin, to be practised upon the ensuing day, the boldness of which, as well as its strong probabilities of success, both astonished and dismayed him. He perceived that perhaps the fate of the entire Spanish army depended upon the course he might pursue, and his honour and feelings seemed all to call upon him for some exertion to arrest the impending destruction.

When he had been made acquainted with all that Guatimozin thought fit to divulge, and had again and again repeated his resolution to take arms and accompany the Mexicans against his countrymen, the king embraced him with great warmth, promising to provide him with a good Spanish sword and helmet from among the spoils; but recommending that, in all other respects, he should assume the guise of a Mexican.

When these arrangements were completed, he turned to depart, and yet seemed loath to go. Finally, he took Juan by the arm, and said,

"To-night the king will sleep by the side of his brother: we will wake in the morning and go out together."

"Why will not the king speak kind things to the queen? It will rejoice her to look upon the king."

"Has she not a little sick babe by her side? and are they not very wretched?" said Guatimozin, exposing, without reserve, the miseries preying upon his own bosom, and abandoning himself to a grief that seemed to mock the greatness of his station. "When I look upon them," he said, "I am no longer the king who thinks of Mexico and the people, but a man with a base heart, who cries, 'Why am not I a prisoner and a slave, that my little child may be saved, and his mother protected from the famine that is coming?' The king should not think these things, – he should not look upon his household, but his country."

"Go, notwithstanding," said Juan, touched still further by the distresses of the infidel. "Comfort them with your presence, and let their sufferings admonish you of the only way to end them. It is not too late to submit."

"Is this the way my brother begins the duties of a Mexican?" said Guatimozin. "The gods tell me to die, not yield. I fight for Mexico, – not for the wife and child of Guatimozin."

With these words, and having banished all traces of weakness and repining, he left Juan to slumber, or to weigh, in painful anticipation, the risks and uncertainties of his projected enterprise.

CHAPTER XII

As Guatimozin had confessed to Juan Lerma, the three suburbs of the causeways were already demolished, and their ruined walls, battered by cannon and blackened by smoke, peered over the lake, along the causeways, in melancholy ruins. The hand of desolation had extended still further; at least, in the quarter that was pierced by the dike of Iztapalapan. Here Cortes commanding in person, and fighting every day at the head of his army, he had infected the whole division with a share of his own energy. While Alvarado and Sandoval were contending for a foothold on the very borders of the city, he had already penetrated it to the distance of half a mile, destroying many houses, though without being able to effect a secure and permanent lodgment upon any portion of the island.

It must not be supposed, that, having reached the island, the Spaniards could exchange the narrow and ditched causeways for firm and spacious streets. On the contrary, the causeways, so to speak, were continued up to within half a mile of the principal square which was in the very centre of the city, and contained the great pyramid, as well as the chief temples of Mexico. On either side was a canal both broad and deep, dividing the road from the houses; and others, running from intersecting streets, perforated the causeways with chasms, the number of which the Mexicans had long since greatly increased. The island, which was circular, did not exceed three miles in diameter, of which the central third only was dry and solid. Hence the advanced posts of the three divisions were at no considerable distance from each other; and if the call of Cortes in the morning was not absolutely heard and answered by his two lieutenants, the bugles of each could be easily distinguished, cheering one another as they advanced to the daily assault.

The labour of Cortes in destroying the suburb in his quarter, was less than that of the others; for here, the lake being deeper, the houses extended but a short distance from the island. His advanced post was almost within the limits of the suburb, and separated from the island by only one ditch, which he had twice or thrice taken and filled up, but was as often obliged to yield again to the foe, subduing his impatience, until his lieutenants had advanced equally far in their quarters.

The outposts were always guarded with the most jealous vigilance, particularly in the later hours of the night, after the rains, which, in this climate, commonly prevail with the greatest violence between the hours of noon and midnight. A guard of forty men, with two pieces of artillery, kept watch until midnight; when, yielding their places to forty more, but not retiring, they threw themselves to sleep upon the damp stones and clay. Two hours before dawn, the post was strengthened by another company of forty, who watched until morning, the others flinging themselves in their cloaks among the first watchmen. Thus, there were ready, before day, one hundred and twenty men, the strongest and boldest of their divisions, who, in case of sudden attack, could preserve the station, until reinforced by the whole strength of the division, from the towers of the gates, which were still the head-quarters of the several divisions. The causeway between the gates and the pickets, was occupied by patrols of horsemen, who watched lest the enemy, coming in canoes, should make a descent behind the advanced post, and thus cut it off.

Two hours after midnight, upon the night in which Juan revealed his purpose of escaping, the second guard on the causeway of Iztapalapan was relieved from watch by the coming of the third; and the soldiers flung themselves, as usual, upon the earth, to prepare for a morning, which, it was known to all, was to witness a general assault, made simultaneously by all the divisions, from their three several quarters.

The watchfires were replenished, and two subalterns, the leaders of the party, advanced a little beyond them, to reconnoitre the condition of the enemy. Three hundred paces in front, the causeway was intersected by the ditch, held by the Mexicans; and beyond it, on a strong rampart, blazed a great fire, in the light of which the pagan sentinels could be seen, squatting upon the mound, or stalking idly about. The gap was bridgeless, as was well-known; but this the Spaniards could not observe with their own eyes, not thinking it prudent to advance within the range of a Mexican arrow.

As they returned, they conversed together in low voices; and it was worthy of remark, as indicating how little their spirits were occupied by the dangers around them, that they bestowed more words upon the ordinary scandal of the camp than upon the horrible conflicts through which they had passed, or in which they were yet to mingle.

"They lay this thing of Camarga entirely to the door of Guzman," said one; "and, in my mind, the imputation were reasonable, could we discover any cause for enmity between them. They say, that Guzman smothered him with pillows of cottontree-down. Wherefore – "

"Pho, Najara," said the other, bluffly; "blame not a man upon these vain fancies; for Camarga was killed by a hard weapon, and by no pillows of cotton-down or feathers. I found him myself."

"Ay," said Najara, for it was the hunchback, whose companion was no other than the worthy historian, Bernal Diaz del Castillo, – "Ay, señor amigo, but he was not dead; and we are speaking of two very different events: to make which palpable to thy historical wits, we must e'en go back to the starting point. It is with a man of ill mind as with a cannonier; who, if he look for the mark of his ball in a forest, must go back to the place whence he shot it, and take the range over again."

"I do not understand thy trope," said Bernal, "nor what thou meanest by an 'ill mind,' not having one myself, but one that harbours animosities against none but Indians. As for Camarga, I found him myself. It was when we marched out of Tezcuco, by the northern road; for I was then with Alvarado, going to Tacuba. I say it, and it is to my honour, not shame, that Cortes, when he left the brigantines, demanded me of Alvarado; 'for,' said he, 'Bernal Diaz is one of my best friends, and a soldier second to none:' which is true, though I say it myself. De Olid was with us, with his men. The story is this: When we passed by the cypress-tree on the hill, I bethought me of a chapter of my book, which I had lost, I knew not where nor when. 'Now,' said I, 'perhaps I left it under this tree;' for what with the sudden coming of Juan Lerma, poor fellow, and the quarrel I had with Gaspar on his account, I departed from that place, without much thought of what might be left behind me. But pondering on this, as we passed, I dropped from the ranks, and hunting about, I saw Camarga lying mangled at the bottom of the hill; and when we came to examine him, it was plain he had been struggling there for many hours, – perhaps, all night. We thought he was dead; but Juan Catalan, the cannonier, who is so good at a fresh wound, said, his heart was yet beating, and he might live. So we sent him back to Tezcuco, then in charge of Guzman, that the Indian doctors might see what could be done for him. And there he died."

"Ay, if we can believe Guzman," said Najara; "and no doubt, he did: but how? Know now, Bernal, for thou art too innocent to look further than thy nose, that this man's death has made a great noise at head-quarters; for, somehow, they have come to associate it with the marvellous disappearance of La Monjonaza; for which there are but two ways of accounting."

"As how?" said Bernal, gravely. "Gil Ortaga told me, he saw her ghost, six nights after, in Iztapalapan, dragging the spirit of Villafana by the hair; which frightened him very much."

"The first thought," said Najara, "is, that she drowned herself for the love of Juan Lerma, of which – that is, of her love, at least – there is some proof that might be mentioned, were there any wisdom in speaking it; and the second, that Guzman hid her in some den about Tezcuco, trusting to the departure of Cortes on the morrow. It is well known that Guzman will play rival with the devil himself, if he have taken a fancy to a woman."

"Fu," said Bernal, "that is a foolish thought."

"Dost thou not know," demanded the hunchback, "that he is in disgrace, for acts still darker than these? He abused the Indians in the palace, robbing them of their gold and women, at his will, and greatly incensed the young king Ixtlilxochitl, who complained to Cortes. Cortes sailed to Tezcuco in person, and removed him from his government; and now he is in such disgrace, that were it not for some old friendship between him and the Captain-General, it is thought, Cortes would utterly renounce him. The Indians say, that he murdered Camarga, when the poor man was recovering. But this is improbable. Camarga was a stranger, and without foes. Yet his fate has greatly troubled the general. As for the lady Infeliz, Don Francisco persists in averring that he knows nothing about her. He brought a Tlascalan, who swore he saw both her and Camarga walk out from the northern gate together, during the review; whereby he would have us believe they fell into the hands of the Mexicans; but Indians will swear anything, if you tell them how. It is said, that Guzman has got permission to serve in the fleet with Garci Holguin, his old friend. They are two dare-devils together, and neither in very good odour; so they will doubtless do some desperate act to regain favour. – Hark, Bernal! dost thou hear nothing?"

"Nothing but the whistling of the Indians at the fire; – for that is the way they make their signals. We shall have hot work to-morrow, Najara." —

"Hark! – Ah, 'tis the sound of oars! One of the night-ships is approaching the dike. What's in the wind now? – Hah, sirrah! what brings thee out of limits?"

These words were directed to a tall man, cloaked to the eyes, whom they had not before noticed, who stood hard by, peering into the lake, as if he sought to discover the approaching vessel. Najara hobbled up to him, in no little dudgeon, and repeated the question, before the stranger deigned to answer him. He then turned, and replied, with great coolness,

"Curiosity, crookback, curiosity, – some little itching to know how thou and thy brother ass, Bernal Diaz, discourse of thy betters. Well, rogues, have you done? have you despatched mine honour twice over again? I am not in good odour, hah? I have murdered Camarga, and suborned Indians to invent fables of La Monjonaza? Out upon ye, fools! I thought thou wert not so sodden-brained, Najara!"

As if his voice were not enough to make him known, the cavalier removed the cloak from his visage, and exhibited the iron features of Don Francisco de Guzman, illuminated by the watchfire hard by. There was something about his countenance unusually dark and fierce; yet he did not speak angrily, although Najara perceived he must have overheard some of his concluding expressions. But Najara was not a man to be daunted even by a stronger arm and a sterner eye. He replied therefore, with composure,

"What we have said, señor Don Francisco, we have said, and may take the same liberty again. But under your favour, señor, I am, just now, the captain of the guard; and as I cannot number you among my company, I must e'en make bold to ask your will, as well as your business, here, in advance of the post?"

"Thou shalt ask, and be answered," said Guzman, clapping his fingers to his lips, and whistling with a strength that might have done honour to the neighbouring infidels, though in a manner differing entirely from any of their signals. "One, two, – three, – and too-whit! too-whit! like a hungry kite in the morning! Dost thou understand that, mi Corcobado? If thou dost not, then poco á poco, y paciencia, as we say after dinner; for presently thou shalt be made wiser. After which, get thee to thy dogs there, in the mud, and snore with them. – Ah, amigo y hermano! Garci, mi corazoncito! I will know thy pipe among a thousand, for it whistles out of the nose, like the hiss of a serpent! – Fare ye well, patches; and heaven send ye a rough rouse in the morning."

While the cavalier was yet speaking, a little boat from the brigantine, the heavy oars of which they had long since heard, though they could scarce trace it in the gloom, shot against the causeway; and an officer of a powerful frame and forbidding aspect, just rendered visible by the fire, rising up, extended his hand to Guzman, who immediately jumped aboard, and took a seat at his side. It was then pushed off, and soon vanished on the lake.

"There they go," said Najara, not without admiration, "two imps after the devil's own liking, strong-handed, tough-headed, hard-hearted! Wo betide ye, brown lambkins of Mexico! for these wolves have scented a hole in your pinfold. I tell thee, Bernal, man, we shall have rare work to-morrow, and these men will make it rarer. When the gall comes from Guzman's lips, the devil is waked up in his liver. 'A rough rouse in the morning!' For thy good wish, mayst thou have as rugged a couch in the evening – Amen! for I love thee not."

CHAPTER XIII

The two subalterns now rejoined their companions, and passing them, as they stood patiently to their arms, waiting for the dawn and the battle, they crept through the sleepers towards the cannon, which were placed in the rear, the cannoniers sleeping around them. Here, they found a solitary individual of the watch they had relieved, leaning moodily against one of the pieces, instead of sharing the slumber of his comrades.

Bernal Diaz surveyed him for a moment, and then touched him on the shoulder:

"Townsman," said he, "it is but a foolish thing of thee to stand upon thy legs, watching, when thy guard duty is over. Sleep a little, Gaspar – We shall have toilsome work to-morrow."

"Sleep thyself, Bernal," replied Gaspar Olea. "What care I for sleep? Come, get thee into the mud, and I will take thy place. Thou shalt have my cloak, too, if thou wilt, to keep the rain out – I can warm me by walking."

"I will do no such thing," said Bernal, grasping the hand of his friend, though Gaspar turned from him, and seemed desirous to continue the conversation no longer; "if thou wilt wake, why well. I will talk thee out of thy melancholy. Thou art very much changed, Gaspar. I know not why thou shouldst grieve after this boy. Thou must now confess, he is unworthy thy friendship."

Gaspar returned no answer, and Bernal continued to give consolation by inflicting pain, – which is the common way.

"It is allowed by all, that he is a renegade; and doubtless, also, he has become a worshipper of false gods; for he who will turn his sword against his countrymen, is a rogue and a blasphemer – That is my opinion. Gil Ortaga said – "

"The fiend seize Ortaga, and thee into the bargain!" said Gaspar, angrily. "If a deer be wounded, and hide himself in a by-way, his fellows will not hunt after him, to gore him! – Why shouldst thou have less humanity than a deer?"

"Come, Gaspar, if I have offended thee, I ask thy pardon," said Bernal Diaz; "for thou art my townsman and friend, though we have quarrelled sometimes; and what I say, I say with a good meaning."

Gaspar looked over his shoulder, and finding that Najara had returned to the front, he grasped Bernal's hand, and said earnestly,