Chapter 10 RETURN OF CORTEZ-SIEGE OF TENOCHTITLAN-BRAVERY AND SUFFERINGS OF THE AZTECS.

What will not man endure, and woman too,

To guard the hearth and altar? Give to each

A thousand lives, and hedge them close around

With all that makes it martyrdom to die,

And agony to suffer-freely still,

With all their wealth of blood, and love, and tears,

They'll yield them every one, and dying, wish

They had a thousand more to give-

Guatimozin was kept constantly informed of the preparations and movements of the Spaniards. His faithful spies followed them in all their marches, and found no difficulty in divining their general intentions and plans, as their courage revived on their arrival at Tlascala, and still more on the accession of a large reinforcement of Spaniards at Vera Cruz. Cortez was now as resolute as ever in his purpose of conquest, and determined to regain his position in the capital, or perish in the attempt. He went with the sword in one hand and the olive-branch in the other, if that can be called an olive-branch, which admits of no answer but submission, and offers no alternative but slavery or death. With a large increase of cavalry and artillery, an ample supply of ammunition, and a force both of Castilian and Indian allies, more than double of that which accompanied him on his former expedition, he took up his line of march from the friendly city of Tlascala, to cross the mountain barrier that separated him from his prey. Previous to his departure, he gave orders for the construction of a considerable number of brigantines, under the inspection of experienced Spanish shipwrights, conceiving the singular and original idea of transporting them, on the shoulders of his men, across the mountains, and launching them upon the lake of Tezcuco, to aid him in laying siege to the city. His march was unchallenged till he arrived on the very shores of the great lake, and stood before the walls of Tezcuco.

Here he halted, and sent a message to the governor to throw open his gates, and renew his allegiance to the crown of Castile. The messenger returned with a request that the Spaniard would delay his entry into the city, until the next morning, when he should be prepared to give him a suitable reception. Cortez, suspecting that all was not right, ascended one of the Teocalli in the neighborhood, to ascertain if any hostile movement was contemplated. To his surprise, he saw immense crowds of people, thronging the thoroughfares on the other side of the city, and going, with as much of their substance as they could carry, towards the metropolis. Supposing that the city, when evacuated, would be given up to the flames, and that he should thus be cut off not only from supplies, but from a place of shelter and retreat, he instantly sent forward a strong body of horse, with a battalion of infantry, to arrest the fugitives, and to demand an interview with the cacique.

Flight having been resolved upon, and the city having been devoted to destruction, as the most effectual annoyance to the Spaniards, no preparations were made to resist such a movement as this. The unarmed fugitives returned to their homes, in great numbers, and the city, with all its abandoned palaces and temples, offered ample accommodations to the invaders. The person of the chief was not secured, he having effected his escape, with the principal part of his nobles, and all his army, to the capital. Cortez, assuming to act in the name of the king of Castile, for whom he claimed the sovereignty of all these lands, immediately deposed the reigning chief, absolving the people from all further allegiance to him, and installed his brother, who was favorable to the cause of the Spaniards, in his place.

Thus secured in such commanding quarters, the haughty Castilian surveyed the field around him, and prepared himself, with great diligence and deliberation, to regain possession of it. The most liberal and conciliating overtures were made to the Emperor, if he would peaceably acknowledge the sovereignty of Castile, and admit him, as the representative of that crown, to the capital. These overtures were promptly and scornfully rejected, and every avenue to amicable negotiation effectually closed. The people of the country were sternly forbidden, on pain of death, from holding any intercourse with the strangers, or from administering, in any manner, to their wants. Large rewards were offered for captives, and every inducement held out to encourage the natives in a resistance, that should admit of no quarter, and terminate only in the utter extermination of one of the parties. Guatimozin was a man every way adapted to a crisis like this. Of a firm indomitable spirit, patient of suffering and of toil, and skilful in all the strategy of war and defence, and possessed of the entire confidence and affection of his own people, he applied himself to the work of self-preservation, with an energy and fertility of resource, which scarcely ever, in a righteous cause, fails to ensure success. That he was suffered to fail, is one of those inscrutable providences which stand frequently out on the page of history, to confound the short-sighted sagacity of man, and restrain his too inquisitive desire to fathom the counsels and purposes of heaven.

Perceiving that the ground was to be contested, step by step, and that not a foot would be yielded but at the point of the bayonet, and the mouth of the cannon, Cortez resolved on reducing the smaller towns first, and so approaching the capital, by slow degrees, leaving no unfriendly territory behind him, to cut off his supplies, or annoy his rear. In this manner, after almost incredible hardships, and many severe contests, in which his forces were very considerably reduced, he succeeded in wresting by violence, or winning by diplomacy, many of the tributary cities and districts from their allegiance to the Mexican crown. In their attempt upon Iztapalapan, which was led by Cortez in person, they were near being entirely overwhelmed by an artificial inundation of the city. The great dikes were pierced by the natives, and the waters of the lake came pouring in upon them, in torrents, from which they made their escape with the utmost difficulty, with the loss of all their booty and ammunition, and not a few of their Indian allies. The place, however, was reduced to submission. Chalco, Otumba, and many other important posts were soon after added to the number of the conquered.

This work of subjugation among the tributary provinces and cities, was not a little facilitated by the memory of the iron rule of Montezuma, and his severe exactions upon all his subjects, to maintain the splendors of the imperial palace. They had long felt these exactions to be most burdensome and unequal, and had only submitted to them by force of the terror of that name, which made all Anahuac tremble. They were, therefore, not unwilling to embrace any opportunity to throw off the Aztec yoke, when they could do it with the hope of ultimate protection from its vengeance. They had not long enough tested the administration of Guatimozin, to look for any relief from their burdens under his reign. He came to the throne at one of those signal crises in the affairs of the empire, which demanded all its resources, both physical and pecuniary, and was therefore compelled, for the time, rather to increase than diminish their taxes, and make heavier requisitions than usual upon their personal services. They were ready for a change of masters, and, as is usual in such cases, did not stop to consider whether the change might not be rather for the worse than for the better. As soon, therefore, as they ascertained that the Spanish power was sufficient to protect them against the fury of their old oppressors, they rushed to their standard, and arrayed themselves against the brave defenders of their native land. The event proved that the rod of iron was exchanged for a two-edged one of steel, a natural sovereign of their own race, for a worse than Egyptian task-master, and a subjection which left undisturbed their ancient customs, and the common relations of society, for an indiscriminate slavery which respected neither person nor property, and levelled alike the public and private institutions of the land.

Meanwhile the brigantines, which had been rapidly progressing at Tlascala, were completed. They were thirteen in number. They were first put together, and tried upon the waters of the Tahnapan; then taken to pieces, and the timbers, with all the tackle and apparel, including anchors, transported on the shoulders of the Tlascalan laborers, over the hills, and through the narrow defiles of the mountain, a distance of sixty miles, and re-constructed within the walls of Tezcuco. To open a communication with the lake, it was still necessary to make a canal, a mile and a half in length, twelve feet wide, and as many deep. This was accomplished in season for launching the little fleet, having eight thousand men employed upon it during two months. It was a day of great rejoicing and appropriate religious solemnity, when that little squadron appeared, with the ensign of Castile floating proudly at each mast head, their white sails swelling in the breeze, the smoke of the cannon rolling around, and the deep thunder reverberating from every side of the distant mountains.

There is, perhaps, no single achievement in the annals of human enterprize, more remarkable than this. There is certainly none which more clearly shows, or more beautifully illustrates, the daring indomitable spirit, and mighty genius, which alone could have achieved the conquest of Mexico. Who but Cortez would have conceived of such a design? Who but Cortez would have attempted and successfully executed it? To construct thirteen vessels of sufficient burthen to sustain the weight and action of heavy cannon, and accommodate the men and soldiers necessary to navigate and defend them, at a distance of twenty leagues from the waters on which they were to swim-to convey them over mountains, and through deep and difficult defiles, on the shoulders of men, without the aid of any species of waggon, or beast of burden, and to do this in the midst of a country, and with the aid of a people, where nothing had hitherto been known beyond the primitive bark canoe, and where the natural associations, and prevailing superstitions of the natives, were totally adverse to his design-to accomplish this alone would immortalize any other man. What was the passage of the Alps by Hannibal, or by Napoleon, compared to this? Yet, so replete was the whole expedition of Cortez with adventures of unparalleled difficulty, and achievements of dazzling splendor, that this is but a common event in his history, with nothing small or insignificant to place it in commanding relief. It was one of the infelicities in the career of this wonderful man, that he was continually eclipsing himself, showing an originality and power of conception, a fertility of invention and resource, and a determination and energy in overcoming difficulties, and making occurrences, seemingly the most adverse, bend to his will and subserve his designs, which wearies our surprise and admiration, and actually exhausts our capacity of astonishment.

Nothing was now wanting to complete the arrangements of the invader for laying siege to Tenochtitlan. By the aid of the brigantines, he was able to command the entire lake, sweeping away the frail canoes of the natives, like bubbles on the surface. All the cities and towns on its border had fallen, one after another, into his hands, though not without a desperate defence, and frequent and wasting sallies from the foe. The metropolis, that beautiful and magnificent gem upon the fair bosom of the lake, now stood alone, deserted by all her friends and supporters, the object of the concentrated hostility of the foreign invader, the ancient enemy, and the recent ally.

In that devoted capital, now so closely and fearfully invested, there was a spirit and power fully equal to the awful crisis. As soon as Guatimozin perceived, by the movements of his enemy, that the city was to be assailed rather by the slow and wasting siege, than by the storm of war, he made every possible preparation to sustain himself at his post. The aged, the infirm, the sick, and, as far as possible, all the helpless among the inhabitants, were sent off among the neighboring towns, and country; while all those who were able to do service in the army, were brought thence into the city. Provisions were collected in great quantities, and all the resources then left to the empire concentrated upon one point, that of making an obstinate, unyielding defence. In this condition of affairs the siege commenced; a large part of the fighting men of the neighboring cities and towns being in the capital, preparing to defend it against enemies with whom those cities and towns were now in close alliance. Though it thus brought the father against the son, and the son against the father, in many instances, it did not, in any case, disappoint the confidence of Guatimozin, or undermine the loyalty of his troops. There were no deserters from his standard. Through all the horrors of that wasting siege, they stood by their sovereign, and their capital, as if they knew no other home, no other friend.

In vain did the Castilian commander propose terms of accommodation to the beleaguered city. The Emperor would not condescend even to an interview. His chiefs and his people, whenever they had an opportunity to do so, treated every attempt at compromise with utter scorn. They derided Cortez upon his disastrous evacuation of the capital on "the melancholy night," assuring him that, if he should enter its gates now, he would not find a Montezuma on the throne. They taunted their Tlascalan allies as women, who would never have dared to approach the capital, without the protection of the white men.

Sustained by this spirit, the warlike Mexican did not content himself with mere measures of defence. Frequent and desperate sallies were made upon the outposts of the enemy, until it seemed as if the hope of the noble Guatimozin might possibly be realized, that he might slowly and gradually destroy an enemy, whom he could not encounter in a pitched battle.

It was not until the last avenue to the surrounding country was cut off, by divisions of the invading army, planted upon all the causeways, supported in all their movements by the thundering brigantines, that the true spirit of the besieged began to show itself. Till then, their tables had been plentifully supplied, and their hopes continually encouraged by the occasional losses of their enemy, whose numbers were too small to admit of much diminution. The priests were unremitting in their appeals to the patriotism of the people, and in promises of peculiar divine blessings on all who should persevere to the last, in defence of their altars and their gods. Guatimozin was ever among his people, encouraging them by kind words, and an example of unyielding defiance to every advance of the foe. He showed that he was not less the father of his people, than their king, suffering the same exposure, and enduring the same fatigues with the boldest and hardiest of his subjects.

Such was their confidence of ultimate success in the defence of the capital, that the splendor and gaiety of the court was little diminished, until famine began to stare them in the face. The aqueduct of Chapoltepec had been cut off, and there was no longer any supply of wholesome water in the city. The dark visions of the lovely queen were now renewed. For a brief season, she had been permitted to revel in daylight, with scarcely a cloud to darken the sky above her. Suddenly that light was obscured. All was gloom and darkness around her. War, desolating war hovered once more about the gates of the beloved city. Wan faces, and haggard forms began to take the places of the gay, happy, spirited multitudes, that so recently thronged the palace. The image of her father, insulted by the stranger, murdered by his own people, rose to her view. His melancholy desponding look and tone, as he gave way to the doom which he felt was sealed upon him, his frequent assurances that the white men were "the men of destiny," the heaven appointed proprietors and rulers of the land, and that wo would betide all who should oppose their pretensions, or offer resistance to their invincible arms-all these came up fresh to her thoughts, and filled her with sadness. Her own ill-starred destiny too, marked by every possible sign and presage, as full of darkness and sorrow-the thought was almost overwhelming. Fain would she have severed at once the bond that linked her fate with that of Guatimozin, for she felt that he was only sharing her doom, and on her account was exposed to these terrible shafts of fate. The love of Guatimozin, the faithful devotion of Karee, though they soothed in some measure her troubled spirit, could not wholly re-assure her, or dissipate the dreadful thought, that all these terrible calamities were come upon the nation only as a part of that dark doom, for which the gods had marked her out, on her very entrance into life.

It was long before the Emperor and his immediate household, were made aware of the awful pressure of famine within that devoted city. Watchful and observing as he was, the people, with one consent, had contrived to keep him in comparative ignorance of the growing scarcity, in order that they might be permitted to supply his table, as long as possible, with all the necessaries and luxuries of life. So far was this loyal devotion carried, that multitudes, both of the chiefs and of the common people, were daily in the habit of denying themselves of every thing but what was absolutely necessary to sustain life, and sending to the palace every article of fresh food, or delicate fruit, which they could obtain from their own gardens, or purchase from those of others. This noble devotion on the part of his people, was discovered and made known to the Emperor by Karee. She was the almoner of the bounty of the queen to multitudes of the poor and the sick, in different quarters of the city. On one of her errands of mercy, while she was administering to the comfort of a poor friend, in the last stages of mortal disease, made ten-fold more appalling by the absence of almost every thing that could sustain nature in the final struggle, she overheard the conversation of a father with his child in the adjoining room.

"Nay, my dear father, you must eat it. Your strength is almost gone, and how can you stand among the fighting men, and defend your king and your house, when you have eaten nothing for two whole days?"

"My precious child, I shall find something when I go out. But this morsel is for you, for I know you cannot live till I come home, if you do not eat this. And what will life be worth when you are gone."

"Father, dear father, I cannot eat it. It will do me more good to see you eat it, for then I shall be sure you can live another day at least, and then, who knows but the gods will send us help."

Karee could listen no longer. Rushing into the apartment whence these melancholy sounds proceeded, she beheld the shadow of a once beautiful girl leaning on the arm of the pale and wasted figure of a man, endeavoring to draw him towards a table on which lay a single morsel of dried fruit, which he had brought in for her, it being the only food that either of them had seen for two days.

"Take this," said she, offering the sweet child a portion of what she had prepared for the invalid, but which she was too far gone to receive, "and may it give you both strength till the day of our deliverance." And she instantly returned to the death-bed of her friend.

To the famishing group it was like the apparition of an angel, with a gift from the gods. The savory mess was readily divided, though the affectionate self-denying child contrived to cheat her father into receiving a little more than his share, while he tried every effort in vain, to persuade her to take the larger half. The wretched pair had not had such a feast for many a long week. "Ah!" exclaimed the daughter, as she wept over the luxurious repast, "if our dear mother could have had such a morsel as this, before she died, to stay her in that last dreadful agony."

"Yes, my beloved child," replied the subdued and bitterly bereaved father, "but she has gone where there is plenty, and no tears mingled with it."

The dried fruit was laid away for the morrow. But the same kind hand that relieved them on that day, was there again on the morrow, and on every succeeding day, till the city was sacked, and the wretched ghosts of its inhabitants given up to an indiscriminate slaughter.

When Guatimozin was made acquainted with this incident, he resolved on making another desperate sally, with the whole force of his wasted army, in the forlorn hope of breaking through the ranks of the enemy, and procuring some subsistence for his famishing people. Having drawn them up in the great square, his heart sunk within him, when he saw their pale faces and emaciated forms, and contrasted them with the fierce, stout, and seemingly invincible host, whom he had so often led into battle. But the feeling of despondency gave way instantly to that stern fixed purpose, that terrible decision of soul, which is the natural offspring of desperation. With a firm voice, he addressed them.

"My brave soldiers, we must not any longer lie still. The enemy is at our gates, and we are perishing in our own citadel. Have we not once driven them, with a terrible and almost exterminating slaughter, along those very causeways which they now claim to occupy and to close up? Are they more invincible now than then? Are we less resolute, less fearless? By our famishing wives and children, by our desecrated altars and gods, let us rush upon them and overwhelm them at once."

The monarch had not yet finished his stirring appeal, when a courier rushed in, bringing tidings that the several divisions of the besieging army were moving up the causeways, and approaching the city on every side.

"They come to their own destruction," said the monarch, bitterly, and immediately proceeded to distribute his men, to give them a fitting reception. The larger part of the forces were ordered to occupy several somewhat retired places, amid the great public buildings in the centre of the city, where they should be in readiness to obey the royal signal. The remainder were to go out, in their several divisions, to meet and skirmish with the advancing foe, doing them as much mischief as possible, yet suffering themselves to be driven before them, till they were decoyed into the heart of the city. The signal would then be given, when every man who could draw a bow, or wield a lance, or throw a stone, would be expected to do his duty.

It was a stratagem worthy of Guatimozin, and, in its execution, had well nigh overwhelmed the Spaniards, and saved the city. Cortez had appointed with the captains of each division of his army to meet in the great square of the city. Each one being eager to be first at the goal, they followed the retreating Aztecs without consideration, and without making any provision for their own retreat. The watchful agents of Guatimozin were behind as well as before them; and when they had passed the gates, and were pressing up, with all the heat and enthusiasm of a victorious army, into the heart of the city, the bridges were taken up in their rear, to cut off, if possible, their retreat. When this was effected, the fatal horn of Guatimozin blew a long loud blast, from the summit of the great Teocalli. In an instant, the retreating Aztecs turned upon their pursuers, like tigers ravening upon their prey; while swarms of fresh warriors poured in from every lane and street and avenue, rushing so fiercely upon the too confident assailants, as to bring them to a sudden pause in their triumphant career. At the same moment, the roof of every house and temple, along the whole line of their march, was covered with men, who poured upon them such a shower of stones that it seemed impossible to escape being buried under them. The tide of battle was now turned. The too daring invaders were thrown into confusion, and compelled to retreat. This they soon found, to their bitter cost, was nearly impossible. When it was discovered that the bridges, over which they had so recently passed, were removed, the utmost consternation prevailed. The heavy cannon were all on board the brigantines, so that they were unable, as in former times, to mow down the solid ranks of their foes, and break a way for their retreat. Their cavalry was of little service, for they could not leap the wide chasms made by the removal of the bridges. Cut off in front by the solid masses of warriors that blocked up every avenue, and in the rear by these yawning chasms, and hemmed in on each side by the massive stone walls of the buildings, they could neither protect themselves, nor effectually annoy their enemy. They were in imminent danger of perishing ignobly in the ditch, without even striking a blow in their own defence.

Fortunately for the invaders, their sagacious and ever-wakeful general had anticipated the possibility of such a scene as this, and had taken some measures to forestall it. His officers, however, were too high-spirited and self-confident to condescend to the cowardly drudgery of carrying out his precautionary measures. They thought only of victory, and the spoils of the glorious city, which they now regarded as their own.

In this fearful dilemma, the genius of Cortez did not desert him. When the first shout of battle reached his ears, as he was advancing cautiously along the avenue, he instantly conjectured the cause. Ordering his own column to halt, and selecting a chosen band of his best cavalry, he wheeled about, dashed furiously down the avenue, and put to flight the unarmed Aztecs, who were doing the work of destruction for him, and had then almost succeeded in tearing away the foundations of the great bridge. Making his way through the deserted streets, with the speed of the wind, he came round into the other avenue, where one division of his army was hemmed in, in the manner above described. Charging impetuously upon the gathering crowds of Aztecs, he succeeded in forcing his way up to the chasm, where he stood face to face with his own troops on the other side. Here, in the midst of a pitiless tempest of stones, and darts and arrows, he maintained his stand, while his men, with incredible labor, attempted to fill up the chasm.

The work was at length accomplished, though not without the most serious loss to Cortez. Some of his bravest officers fell in that merciless contest with foes who would neither give nor receive quarter. Many were pelted down with the huge stones, that ceased not to rain upon them from all the neighboring house tops. Some were taken by the feet as they labored to maintain a precarious footing on the slippery causeway, and dragged into the canals, either to be drowned in the desperate struggle there, or carried off in the canoes to captivity or sacrifice. Cortez himself narrowly escaped immolation.

At length, through the indomitable perseverance of the general, the breach was so far filled up as to make a practicable passage for the troops. A retreat was sounded, and that gallant band, which, a few hours before had rushed in with flaunting banners, and confident boastings of an easy victory, was glad to escape from the snare into which they had fallen, their numbers greatly reduced, their banners soiled and tattered, and their expectations of ultimate success terribly shaken. They were pursued through all their march by the exulting Aztecs, and many a broken head and bruised limb attested the truth of Guatimozin's taunting challenge, that the Spaniards, if they entered the capital again, would find as many fortresses as there were houses, as many assailants as stones in the streets.

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