Sketches of Aboriginal Life

Tell me, ascribest thou influence to the stars?

"Wo! wo! wo! to the imperial House of Tenochtitlan! Never saw I the heavens in so inauspicious an aspect. Dark portentous influences appear on every side. May the horoscope of the infant daughter of Montezuma never be fulfilled."

These were the awful words of the priestly astrologer of Tenochtitlan, uttered with solemn and oracular emphasis from the lofty Teocalli, where he had been long and studiously watching the heavens, and calculating the relative positions and combinations of the stars. A deep unutterable gloom seemed to pervade his soul. Several times he traversed the broad terrace, in a terrible agitation; his splendid pontifical robes flowing loosely in the breeze, and his tall majestic figure relieved against the clear sky, like some colossal moving statue,-and then, in tones of deeper grief than before, finding no error in his calculations, reiterated his oracular curse-"Wo! wo! wo! to the imperial House of Tenochtitlan!" Casting down his instruments to the earth, and tearing his hair in the violence of his emotions, he prostrated himself on the altar, and poured forth a loud and earnest prayer to all his gods.

"Is there no favoring omen in any quarter, venerable father?" inquired the agitated messenger from the palace, when the prayer was ended-"is there no one of those bright spheres above us, that will deign to smile on the destiny of the young princess?"

"It is full of mysterious, portentous contradictions," replied the astrologer. "Good and evil influences contend for the mastery. The evil prevail, but the good are not wholly extinguished. The life of the princess will be a life of sorrow, but there will be a peculiar brightness in its end. Yet the aspect of every sign in the heavens is wo, and only wo, to the imperial House of Montezuma."

Faith in the revelations of astrology was a deeply rooted superstition with the Aztecs. It pervaded the whole structure of society, affecting the most intelligent and well-informed, as well as the humblest and most ignorant individual. In this case, the prophetic wailings of the priestly oracle rolled, like a long funereal knell, through the magnificent halls of the imperial palace, and fell upon the ear of the monarch, as if it had been a voice from the unseen world. Montezuma was reclining on a splendidly embroidered couch, in his private apartment, anxiously awaiting the response of the celestial oracle. He was magnificently arrayed in his royal robes of green, richly ornamented with variegated feather-work, and elaborately inwrought with gold and silver. His sandals were of pure gold, with ties and anklets of gold and silver thread, curiously interwoven with a variegated cotton cord. On his head was a rich fillet of gold, with a beautiful plume bending gracefully over one side, casting a melancholy shade over his handsome but naturally pensive features. A few of the royal princes sat, in respectful silence, at the farther end of the chamber, waiting, with an anxiety almost equal to that of the monarch, the return of the royal messenger.

The apartments of the emperor were richly hung with tapestry of ornamental feather-work, rivalling, in the brilliancy of its dyes, and the beautiful harmony of its arrangement, the celebrated Gobelin tapestry. The floor was a tesselated pavement of porphyry and other beautiful stones. Numerous torches, supported in massive silver stands, delicately carved with fanciful figures of various kinds, blazed through the apartment, lighting up, with an almost noonday brilliancy, the gorgeous folds of the plumed hangings, and filling the whole palace with the sweet breath of the odoriferous gums of which they were composed.

The emperor leaned pensively on his hand, seemingly oppressed with some superstitious melancholy forebodings. Perhaps the shadow of that mysterious prophecy, which betokened the extinction of the Aztec dynasty, and the consequent ruin of his house, was passing athwart the troubled sky of his mind, veiling the always doubtful future in mists of tenfold dimness. Whatever it was that disturbed his royal serenity, his reverie was soon broken by the sound of an approaching footstep. For a moment, nothing was heard but the measured tread of the trembling messenger, pacing with unwilling step the long corridor, that led to the royal presence. With his head bowed upon his breast, his eyes fixed upon the pavement, his person veiled in the coarse nequen,[A] and his feet bare, he stood before the monarch, dumb as a statue.

"What response bring you," eagerly enquired the emperor, "from the burning oracles of heaven? How reads the destiny of my new-born infant?"

"The response be to the enemies of the great Montezuma," replied the messenger, without lifting his eyes from the floor, "and the destiny it foreshadows to the children of them that hate him."

"Speak," exclaimed the monarch, "What message do you bring from the priest of the stars?"

"Alas! my royal master, my message is full of wo-my heart faints, and my tongue refuses its office to give it utterance. The old prophet bade me say, that the celestial influences are all unpropitious; that the destiny of the infant princess is a life of sorrow, with a gleam of more than earthly brightness in its evening horizon. And then, prostrating himself upon the great altar, he groaned out one long, deep, heart-rending wail for the imperial House of Tenochtitlan, and the golden realm of Anahuac."

A deeper shade came over the brow of Montezuma, and heaving a sigh from the very depths of a soul that had long been agitated by melancholy forebodings of coming evil, he raised his eyes to heaven, and said, "the will of the gods be done." Then, waving his hand to his attendants, they bowed their heads, and retired in silence from the apartment.

"It has come at last," inwardly groaned the monarch, as soon as he found himself alone-"it has come at last-that fearful prophecy, that has so long hung, like the shadow of a great cloud, over my devoted house, is now to be fulfilled. The fates have willed it, and there is no escape from their dread decrees. I must make ready for the sacrifice."

Nerved by the stern influence of this dark fatalism, Montezuma brushed a tear from his eye, and putting a royal restraint upon the turbulent sorrows and fears of his paternal heart, hastened to the apartments of the queen, to break to her, with all the gentleness and caution which her delicate and precarious circumstances required, the mournful issue of their inquiries at the court of heaven, into the future destiny and prospects of their new-born babe.

A deep gloom hung over the palace and the city. Every heart, even the most humble and unobserved, sympathized in the disappointment, and shared the distress, of their sovereign. And the day, which should have been consecrated to loyal congratulations, and general festivities, became, as by common consent, a sort of national fast, a season of universal lamentation.

The little stranger was welcomed into life with that peculiar chastened tenderness, which is the natural offspring of love and pity-love, such as infant innocence wins spontaneously from every heart-pity, such as melancholy forebodings of coming years of sorrow to one beloved, cannot fail to awaken. She was regarded as the most beautiful and the most interesting of all her race. Every look and motion seemed to have its peculiar significance in indicating the victim of a remarkable destiny. And it is not to be wondered at, that a superstition so sad, and an affection so tender and solicitous, discovered an almost miraculous precocity in the first developments of the intellectual and moral qualities of its subject. She was the attractive centre of all the admiration and love of the royal household. Imagination fancied a peculiar sadness in her eye, and her merry laugh was supposed to mingle an element of sadness in its tones. Her mild and winning manners, and her affectionate disposition made her the idol of all whom she loved; and each one strove to do her service, as if hoping to avert, in some measure, the coming doom of their darling; while she clung to the fond and devoted hearts around her, as the ivy clings to the oak, which receives its embraces, and is necessary to its support.

When the young princess, who received the name of Tecuichpo, had arrived at the age of one year, she was given in charge to a young and beautiful slave, whom the Emperor had recently obtained from Azcapozalco. Karee was gifted with rare powers of minstrelsy. Her voice had the sweetness, power and compass of a mocking bird, and all day long she warbled her ever-changing lays, as if her natural breathing were music, and song the natural flow of her thoughts. She soon became passionately devoted to the little pet, and exerted all her uncommon gifts to amuse and instruct her. She taught her all the native songs of Azcapozalco and Mexitli, instructed her in dancing, embroidery and feather-work, and initiated her into the science of picture-writing and the fanciful language of flowers. Karee and her royal charge were never apart. Gentle and timid as the dove, Tecuichpo clung to her new nurse, as to the bosom of a mother. Even in her early infancy, she would so sweetly respond, like an echo, to the gentle lullaby, and mingle her little notes so symphoniously with those of Karee, that it excited the wonder and admiration of all. Karee was passionately fond of flowers. It was indeed an element in the national taste of this remarkable people. But Karee was unusually gifted in her preceptions of natural beauty, and seemed to have a soul most delicately attuned to the spirit and language of flowers, the painted hieroglyphics of nature. She loved to exercise her exuberant fancy in decorating her little mistress, and often contrived so to arrange them upon the various parts of her person and dress, as to make her at different times, the emblematic representation of every bright and beautiful spirit, that was supposed to people their celestial paradise, or to hover, on wings of love and gentle care, about the path of those whom the gods delighted to favor.

It was the daily custom for Karee to carry the young princess into the apartment of the Emperor, as soon as he rose from his siesta, to receive the affectionate caresses which her royal father was so fond of lavishing upon her. At such times, Tecuichpo would often take with her some rich chaplets of flowers which Karee had woven for her, and amuse herself and her father, by arranging them in a coronet on his brow, or twining them, in every fantastic form, about his person, to make, as she said, a flower-god of him, who was a sun to all the flowers of her earthly paradise.

One day, when the young princess was sleeping in her little arbor, the ever watchful nurse observed a viper among the flowers, which she had strown about her pillow, just ready to dart its venomous fang into the bosom of her darling. Quick as lightning she seized the reptile in her hand, and, before he had time to turn upon her, flung him upon the floor, and crushed him under her sandalled heel. Passionately embracing her dear charge, she hastened with her to the apartments of the queen, and related the story of her narrow escape, with so much of the eloquence of gratitude for being the favored instrument of her deliverance from so cruel a death, that it deeply affected the heart of the queen. She embraced her child and Karee, as if both were, for the moment, equally dear to her; and then, in return for the faithful service, rendered at the hazard of her own life, she promised to bestow upon the slave whatever she chose to ask. "Give me, O give me freedom, and a chinampa, and I ask no more," was the eager reply of Karee to this unexpected offer of the queen. The request was immediately granted; and the first sorrow that ever clouded the heart of the lovely Tecuichpo, was that of parting with her faithful and loving Karee.

A chinampa was a floating island in the lake of Tezcuco, upon whose very bosom the imperial city was built. They were very numerous, and some of them were large, and extremely beautiful. They were formed by the alluvial deposit in the waters of the lake, and by occasional masses of earth detached from the shores, held together by the fibrous roots, with which they were penetrated, and which in that luxurious clime, put out their feelers in every direction, and gathered to their embrace whatever of nutriment and support the richly impregnated waters afforded. In the process of a few years accumulation, the floating mass increased in length, breadth and thickness, till it became an island, capable of sustaining not only shrubs and trees, but sometimes a human habitation. Some of these were from two to three hundred feet square, and could be moved about at pleasure, like a raft, from city to city, along the borders of the lake. The natives, who were skilful gardeners, and passionately devoted to the cultivation of flowers, improved upon this beautiful hint of nature, to enlarge their means of supplying the capital with fruits, vegetables and flowers. Constructing small rafts of reeds, anchoring them out in the lake, and then covering them with the sediment drawn up from the bottom, they soon found them covered with a thrifty vegetation, and a vigorous soil, from which they were able to produce a large supply of the various luxuries of their highly favored clime.

It was to one of these fairy gardens that the beautiful Karee retired, rich in the priceless jewel of freedom, and feeling that a chinampa all her own, and flowers to train and commune with, was the summit of human desire. Karee was no common character. Gifted by nature with unusual talents, she had, though in adverse circumstances, cultivated them by all the means in her power. Remarkably quick of perception, and shrewd and accurate of observation, with a memory that retained every thing that was committed to it, in its exact outlines and proportions, she was enabled to gather materials for improvement from every scene through which she passed. Her imagination was exceedingly powerful and active, sometimes wild and terrific, but kept in balance by a sound judgment and a discriminating taste. Her love of flowers was a passion, a part of her nature. For her they had a language, if not a soul. And there was not one of all the endless varieties of that luxuriant clime, that had not a definite and emphatic place in the vocabulary of her fancy. The history of her life she could have written in her floral dialect, and to her, though its lines might have faded rapidly, its pages would have been always legible and eloquent. Her attachments were strong and enduring, and there was that element of heroism in her soul, that she would unhesitatingly have sacrificed life for the object of her love.

It is not to be wondered at, that, with such qualities of mind and heart, Karee was deeply impressed with the solemn and imposing superstitions of the Aztec religion. The rites and ceremonies by which they were illustrated and sustained, were well calculated to stir to its very depths, a soul like hers, and give the fullest exercise to her wild imagination. That pompous ritual, those terrible orgies, repeated before her eyes almost daily from her infancy, had become blended with the thoughts and associations of her mind, and intimately related to every scene that interested her heart, or engaged her fancy. Yet her soul was not enslaved to that dark and dismal superstition. Though accustomed to an awful veneration of the priesthood, she did not regard them as a superior race of beings, or listen to their words, as if they had been audible voices from heaven. Her spirit shrunk from many of the darker revelations of the established mythology, and openly revolted from some of its inhuman exactions. Its chains hung loosely upon her; and she seemed fully prepared for the freedom of a purer and loftier faith. Her extreme beauty, her bewitching gaiety, and her varied talents, attracted many admirers, and some noble and worthy suitors. But Karee had another destiny to fulfil. She felt herself to be the guardian angel of the ill-fated Tecuichpo, and her love for the princess left no room for any other passion in her heart. She therefore refused all solicitations, and remained the solitary mistress of her floating island.

Karee's departure from the palace, did not in any degree lessen her interest in the welfare of the young princess. She was assiduous in her attention to every thing that could promote her happiness; and seemed to value the flowers she cultivated on her chinampa chiefly as they afforded her the means of daily correspondence with Tecuichpo. She managed her island like a canoe, and moved about from one part of the beautiful lake to another, visiting by turns the cities that glittered on its margin, and sometimes traversing the valleys in search of new flowers, or exploring the ravines and caverns of the mountains for whatever of rare and precious she might chance to find. The chivalry of the Aztecs rendered such adventures perfectly safe, their women being always regarded with the greatest tenderness and respect, and treated with a delicacy seldom surpassed in the most civilized countries of Christendom.

This chivalric sentiment was, not improbably heightened, in the case of Karee, in part by her extreme beauty, and in part by the power of her genius and the brilliancy of her wit. She commanded respect by the force of her intellect, and the purity of her heart; while the uncommon depth and splendor of her imagination, when excited by any favorite theme, and the seemingly inexhaustible fruitfulness of her mental resources, invested her, in the view of the multitude, with something of the dignity, and much of the superstitious charm of a prophetess.

[A] A mantle of coarse cotton fabric, which all who approached the emperor were compelled to put on, in token of humility and reverence.

* * *

Breathe not his noble name even to the winds,

Lest they my love reveal.

---

I have mystical lore,

And coming events cast their shadows before.

The childhood of the fair princess passed away without any event of importance, except the occasional recurrence of those dark prophecies which overshadowed her entrance into life. Her father, who had exercised the office of priest before he came to the throne, was thoroughly imbued with the superstitious reverence for astrology, which formed a part of the religion of the Aztecs. To all the predictions of this mystic science he yielded implicit belief, regarding whatever it foreshadowed as the fixed decrees of fate. He was, therefore, fully prepared, and always on the look-out, for new revelations to confirm and establish his faith. These were sometimes found in the trivial occurrences of every-day life, and sometimes in the sinister aspect of the heavenly bodies, at peculiar epochs in the life of his daughter. With this superstitious foreboding of evil, the pensive character of the princess harmonized so well, as to afford, to the mind of the too credulous monarch, another unquestionable indication of her destiny. It seemed to be written on her brow, that her life was a doomed one; and each returning year was counted as the last, and entered upon with gloomy forebodings of some terrible catastrophe.

As her life advanced, her charms, both of person and character matured and increased; and, at the age of fourteen, there was not a maiden in all the golden cities of Anahuac, who could compare with Tecuichpo. Her exceeding loveliness was the theme of many a song, and the fame of her beauty and her accomplishments was published in all the neighboring nations. While yet a child, her hand was eagerly sought by Cacamo, of the royal house of Tezcuco; but, with the true chivalry of an unselfish devotion, his suit was withdrawn, on discovering that her young affections were already engaged to another. The discovery was made in a manner too singular and striking to be suffered to pass unnoticed.

In the course of her wanderings in the forest, Karee had taken captive a beautiful parrot, of the most gorgeous plumage, and the most astonishing capacity. This chatterer, after due training and discipline, she had presented to her favorite princess, among a thousand other tokens of her unchangeable affection. Tecuichpo loved the beautiful mimic, to whom she gave the name of Karee-o-thán-the voice of Karee,-and often amused herself with teaching her to repeat the words which she loved best to hear. Without being aware of the publicity she was thus giving to her most treasured thoughts, she entrusted to the talkative bird the secret of her love, by associating with the most endearing epithets, the name of her favored cavalier. While strolling about the magnificent gardens attached to the palace of Montezuma, Cacamo was wont to breathe out, in impassioned song, his love for Tecuichpo, repeating her name, with every expression of passionate regard, which the language afforded. Karee-o-thán was often flying about in the gardens, and soliloquizing in the arbors, the favorite resorts of her beautiful mistress, and often attracted the notice of Cacamo.

One evening, as the prince was more than usually eloquent in pouring into the ear of Zephyr the tale of his love, the mimic bird, perched upon a flowering orange tree, that filled the garden with its delicious perfume, repeated the name of his mistress, as often as her lover uttered it, occasionally connecting with it the name of Guatimozin, and then adding some endearing epithet, expressive of the most ardent admiration. The prince was first amused, and then vexed, at the frequent repetition of the name of his rival. In vain did he endeavor to induce the mischievous bird to substitute his own name for that of Guatimozin. As often as he uttered the name of the princess, the echo in the orange tree gave back "noble Guatimozin," or "sweet Guatimozin," or some other similar response, which left no doubt on the mind of Cacamo, that the heart of his mistress was pre-occupied, and that the nephew of Montezuma was the favored object of her love. The next day, he bade adieu to Tenochtitlan, placed himself at the head of the army of Tezcuco, and plunged into a war then raging with a distant tribe on the west, hoping to bury his disappointment in the exciting scenes of conquest.

Guatimozin was of the royal blood, and, as his after history will show, of a right royal and heroic spirit. From his childhood, he had exhibited an unusual maturity of judgment, coupled with an energy, activity, and fearlessness of spirit, which gave early assurance of a heroism worthy of the supreme command, and an intellectual superiority that might claim succession to the throne. His training was in the court and the camp, and he seemed equally at home and in his element, amid the refined gaieties of the palace, the grave deliberations of the royal council, and the mad revelry of the battle-field. His figure was of the most perfect manly proportions, tall, commanding, graceful-his countenance was marked with that peculiar blending of benignity and majesty, which made it unspeakably beautiful and winning to those whom he loved, and terrible to those on whom he frowned. He was mild, humane, generous, confiding; yet sternly and heroically just. His country was his idol. The one great passion of his soul, to which all other thoughts and affections were subordinate and tributary, was patriotism. On that altar, if he had possessed a thousand lives, he would freely have laid them all. Such was the noble prince who had won the heart of Tecuichpo.

Meanwhile, to the anxious eye of her imperial father, the clouds of fate seemed to hang deep and dark over the realm of Anahuac. Long before the prophetic wail, which welcomed the lovely Tecuichpo to a life of sorrow, Montezuma had imbibed from the dark legends of ancient prophecies, and the faint outgivings of his own priestly oracles, a deep and ineradicable impression that some terrible calamity was impending over the realm, and that he was to be the last of its native monarchs. It was dimly foreshadowed, in these prophetic revelations, that the descendants of a noble and powerful race of men, who had many ages before occupied that beautiful region, and filled it with the works of their genius, but who had been driven out by the cruelty and perfidy of the Toltecs, would return, invested with supernatural power from heaven, to re-possess their ancient inheritance.[B] To this leading and long established faith, every dark and doubtful omen contributed its appropriate share of confirmation. To this, every significant event was deemed to have a more or less intimate relation. So that, at this particular epoch, not only the superstitious monarch, and his priestly astrologers, but the whole nation of Azteca were prepared, as were the ancient Jews at the advent of the Messiah, for great events, though utterly unable to imagine what might be the nature of the expected change.

These gloomy forebodings of coming evil so thoroughly possessed the mind of Montezuma, that the commanding dignity and pride of the monarch gave way before the absorbing anxiety of the man and the father, and, in a manner, unfitted him for the duties of the lofty place he had so nobly filled. He yielded, as will be seen in the sequel, not without grief, but without resistance, to the fixed decrees of fate, and awaited the issue, as a victim for the heaven-appointed sacrifice.

It was about fifteen years after the prophetic announcement of the doom of the young princess of the empire, that Montezuma was reclining in his summer saloon, where he had been gloomily brooding over his darkening prospects, till his soul was filled with sadness. His beautiful daughter was with him, striving to cheer his heart with the always welcome music of her songs, and the affectionate expression of a love as pure and deep as ever warmed the heart of a devoted child. She had gone that day into the royal presence to ask a boon for her early and faithful friend, Karee. This lovely and gifted creature, now in the full maturity of all her wonderful powers of mind, and personal attractions, had often been admitted, as a special favorite, into the royal presence, to exhibit her remarkable powers of minstrelsy, and her almost supernatural gifts as an improvisatrice of the wild melodies of Anahuac. Some of her chants were of rare pathos and sublimity, and sometimes she was so carried away with the impassioned vehemence of her inspiration, that she seemed an inspired messenger from the skies, uttering in their language the oracles of the gods. On this occasion, she had requested permission to sing a new chant in the palace, that she might seize the opportunity to breathe a prophetic warning in the ear of the emperor. She had thrice dreamed that the dark cloud which had so long hung over that devoted land, had burst in an overwhelming storm, upon the capital, and buried Montezuma and all his house in indiscriminate ruin. She had seen the demon of destruction, in the guize of a snow white angel, clad in burnished silver, borne on a fiery animal, of great power, and fleet as the wind, having under him a small band of warriors, guarded and mounted like himself, armed with thunderbolts which they hurled at will against all who opposed their progress. She had seen the monarch of Tenochtitlan, with his hosts of armed Mexicans, and the tributary armies of Tezcuco, Islacapan, Chalco, and all the cities of that glorious valley, tremble and cower before this small band of invaders, and yield himself without a blow to their hands. She had seen the thousands and tens of thousands of her beloved land fall before this handful of strangers, and melt away, like the mists of the morning before the rising sun. And she had heard a voice from the dark cloud as it broke, saying, sternly, as the forked lightning leaped into the heart of the imperial palace, "The gods help only those who help themselves."

Filled and agitated with the stirring influence of this prophetic vision, Karee, who had always regarded herself as the guardian genius of Tecuichpo, now imagined the sphere of her duty greatly enlarged, and deemed herself specially commissioned to save the empire from impending destruction. Weaving her vision, and the warning it uttered, into one of her most impassioned chants, and arraying herself as the priestess of nature, she followed Tecuichpo, with a firm step into the royal presence, and, with the boldness and eloquence of a prophetess, warned him of the coming danger, and urged him to arouse from his apathy, unbecoming the monarch of a proud and powerful nation, cast off the slavery of his superstitious fears, and prepare to meet, with the power of a man, and the wisdom of a king, whatever evil might come upon him. Rising with the kindling inspiration of her theme, she ventured gently to reproach the awe-struck monarch with his unmanly fears, and to remind him that on his single will, and the firmness of his soul, hung not only his own destiny but that of wife and children; and more than that, of a whole nation, whose myriads of households looked up to him, as the common father of them all, the heaven-appointed guardian of their lives, liberty and happiness. At length, alarmed at her own energy and boldness, so unwonted even to the proudest noble of the realm, in that royal presence, she bent her knee, and baring her bosom, she lowered her voice almost to a whisper, and said imploringly-

Strike, monarch! strike, this heart is thine,

To live or die for thee;

Strike, but heed this voice of mine

It comes from heaven, through me;

It comes to save this blessed land,

It comes thy soul to free

From those dark fears, and bid thee stand

The monarch father of thy land,

That only lives in thee.

Strike, father! if my words too bold

Thy royal ears offend;

The visions of the night are told,

Thy destiny the gods unfold-

Oh! be thy people's friend,

True to thyself, to them, to heaven-

So shall this lowering cloud be riven

And light and peace descend,

To bless this golden realm, and save

Tecuichpo from an early grave.

The vision of the beautiful pythoness had deeply and powerfully affected the soul of Montezuma; and her closing appeal moved him even to tears. Though accustomed to the most obsequious deference from all his subjects, even from the proudest of his nobles, he had listened to every word of Karee with the profoundest attention and interest, as if it had been from the acknowledged oracle of heaven. When she ceased, there was a breathless silence in the hall. The monarch drew his lovely daughter to his bosom in a passionate embrace. Karee remained prostrate, with her face to the ground, her heart throbbing almost audibly with the violence of her emotions. Suddenly, a deep long blast from a distant trumpet announced the arrival of a courier at the capital. It was a signal for all the attendants to retire. Tecuichpo tenderly kissing her father, took Karee by the hand, raised her up and led her out, and the monarch was left alone.

In a few moments, the courier arrived and entering, barefoot and veiled, into the royal presence, bowed to the very ground, handed a scroll to the king, and departed. When Montezuma had unrolled the scroll, he seemed for a moment, as if struck with instant paralysis. Fear, astonishment, dismay, seized upon his soul. The vision of Karee was already fulfilled. The pictured tablet was the very counterpart of her oracular chant-the literal interpretation of her prophetic vision. It announced the arrival within the realms of Montezuma, of a band of pale faced strangers, clad in burnished armor, each having at his command a beautiful animal of great power, hitherto unknown in that country, that bore him with the speed of the wind wherever he would go, and seemed, while he was mounted, to be a part of himself. It described their weapons, representing them as having the lightning and thunder at their disposal, which they caused to issue sometimes from dark heavy engines, which they dragged along the ground, and sometimes from smaller ones which they carried in their hands. It delineated, faithfully and skilfully their "water houses," or ships, in which they traversed the great waters, from a far distant country. The peculiar costume and bearing of their commander, and of his chiefs, were also happily represented in the rich coloring for which the Aztecs were distinguished. Nothing was omitted in their entire array, which could serve to convey to the eye of the emperor a correct and complete impression of the appearance, numbers and power of the strangers. It was all before him, at a glance, a living speaking picture, and told the story of the invasion as graphically and eloquently, as if he had been himself a witness of their debarkation, and of their feats of horsemanship. It was all before him, a terrible living reality. The gods whom he worshipped had sent these strangers to fulfil their own irresistible purposes-if, indeed, these were not the gods themselves, in human form.

The mind of Montezuma was overwhelmed. Like Belshazzar, when the divine hand appeared writing his doom on the wall, his soul fainted in him, his knees smote together, and he sat, in blank astonishment, gazing on the picture before him, as if the very tablet possessed a supernatural power of destruction.

Paralyzed with the influence of his long indulged fears so singularly and strikingly realized, the monarch sat alone, neither seeking comfort, nor asking counsel of any one, till the hour of the evening repast. The summons aroused him from his reverie; but he regarded it not. He remained alone, in his own private apartments, during the whole night, fasting and sleepless, traversing the marble halls in an agony of agitation.

With the first light of the morning, the shrill notes of the trumpet, reverberating along the shadowy slopes of the cordilleras, announced the approach of another courier from the camp of the strangers. It rung in the ears of the dejected monarch, like an alarum. He awoke at once from his stupor, and began to consider what was to be done. The warning of Karee rushed upon his recollection. Her bold and timely appeal struck him to the heart. He resolved to be once more the monarch, and the father of his people. Uttering an earnest prayer to all his gods, he awaited the arrival of the courier.

Swift of foot as the mountain deer, the steps of the messenger were soon heard, measuring with solemn pace, the long corridor of the royal mansion, as one who felt that he was approaching the presence of majesty, and bearing a message pregnant with the most important issues to the common weal. Bowing low, with that profound reverence, which was rigorously exacted of all who approached the presence of Montezuma, he touched the ground with his right hand, and then, his eyes bent to the earth, delivered his pictured scroll, and retired. It was a courteous and complimentary message from the strangers he so much dreaded, requesting that they might be permitted to pay their respects to his imperial majesty, in his own capital. The quick-sighted monarch perceived at once that prudence and policy required that this interview should be prevented.

A council of the wisest and most experienced of the Aztec nobles was immediately called. The opinions of the royal advisers were variously expressed, but all, with one accord, agreed that the request of the strangers could not be granted. Some counselled a bold and warlike message, commanding the intruders to depart instantly, on pain of the royal displeasure. Some recommended their forcible expulsion by the army of the empire. The more aged and experienced, who had learned how much easier it is to avoid, than to escape, a danger, proposed a more courteous and peaceable reply to the message of the strangers. They deemed it unworthy of a great and powerful monarch, to be angry, when the people of another nation visited his territories, or requested permission to see his capital. To manifest, or feel any thing like fear, in such a case, would be a reproach alike upon his courage and his patriotism. So long, therefore, as the strangers conducted themselves peaceably, and with becoming deference to the will of the emperor, and the laws of the realm, they should be treated civilly, and hospitably entertained.

To this wise and prudent counsel, the monarch was already fully prepared to yield. It was strongly seconded by his superstitious reverence for the heaven-sent strangers, and his mortal dread of their superhuman power. He, therefore, selected the noblest and wisest of his chiefs as ambassadors, to bear his message, which was kindly and courteously expressed; at the same time conveying a firm but respectful refusal to admit the foreigners to an interview in the capital, or to extend to them the protection of the court, after a reasonable time had elapsed for their re-embarkation. This message was accompanied with a munificent royal present, consisting of the richest and most beautiful suits of apparel for the chief and all his men, with gorgeous capes and robes of feather-work, glittering with jewels-precious stones richly set in gold, and many magnificent ornaments of pure gold.

At the head of this embassy were princes of high estate, and most noble bearing, commanding in person, and of great distinction, both at the court and in the camp. When they arrived near the encampment of the strangers, which was the spot where the city of Vera Cruz now stands, they sent a courier forward, to announce their approach, and prepare for their reception.

The meeting of the parties was one of no little pomp and ceremony, for the courtly manners and chivalric bearing of the European cavaliers were scarcely superior, in impressiveness and effect, to the barbaric splendor, and graceful consciousness of power, which characterized the flower of the Aztec nobility. The chief, advancing towards the invaders, bowed low to earth, touching the ground with his right hand, then raising it to his head, and presenting it to his guest, announced himself as the envoy and servant of the great Montezuma, sole monarch and master of all the realms of Anahuac; and demanded the name of the stranger, the country from which he came, and the motives which induced him to trespass upon the sacred territories of his royal master, and to presume to ask an interview with the emperor, in his capital. The Castilian chieftain, with a courteous and knightly bearing replied, that his name was Hernando Cortez-that he was one of the humblest of the servants of the great Charles, the mighty monarch of Spain, and sovereign ruler of the Indies, and that he had come, with his little band of followers, to pay his court to the great Montezuma, and to bear to him the fraternal salutation of his master, which he could only deliver in person.

The reply of the Mexican was dignified, courteous, and pointed, and left no hope to the Spaniard, that he would then be able to effect his purpose, of visiting in person the golden city. "If," said the prince, "your monarch had come himself to our shores, he might well demand a personal meeting with our lord, the emperor, but when he sends his servant to represent him, he surely cannot presume to do more than communicate with the servants of the great Montezuma. If it were possible that another sun should visit yonder sky, he might look upon our sun, in his march, and move and shine in his presence. But the moon and the stars cannot shine when he is abroad. They can look upon each other only when he withdraws his light."

The royal message having been delivered, the presents which accompanied it were brought forward, and spread out upon mats, in front of the general's tent. The Spaniards were struck, with surprise and admiration at the fineness of the texture of the cloths, the richness of their dyes, the gorgeous coloring and tasteful arrangement of the feather-work, the masterly workmanship and exquisite finish of the jewelry, and, above all, the immense value, and magnificent size of the golden toys which were presented them. They conceived, at once, the most exalted ideas of the riches of the country, and the munificence and splendor of the monarch that ruled over it. Their avarice and cupidity were strongly excited, and more than one of the inferior officers, as well as their general, formed the immediate resolution, that, in despite of the imperial interdict, they would endeavor, either by diplomacy or by force, to win their way to the capital, which they supposed must of necessity be the grand depository of all the treasures in the empire. Their intentions were kept secret, even from each other, and, under cover of a specious submission to the expressed will of the monarch, Cortez requested permission to delay his departure, till his men should be recruited, and his stores replenished for his long voyage.

Meanwhile, taking advantage of this unauthorized reprieve, the artful and indefatigable Castilian contrived to draw off from their unwilling and burdensome allegiance to Montezuma, the Totonacs, a considerable tribe, residing in that part of the country where he had effected his landing; and so to impress them with a sense of his own power and the lenity of his government, as to bind them to him in a solemn treaty of alliance. He also sent an embassy to the Tlascalans, a nation that had long maintained its independence against the ambitious encroachments of Mexico, and held Montezuma their natural and only foe. They were a brave and warlike people, and nearly as far advanced in the arts of civilization as their enemies. Their government was a kind of republic. Cortez, with magniloquent pretensions of invincible power, and inexhaustible resources, proposed to assist the Tlascalans in reducing the power of Mexico, and putting an end to the oppressions and exactions of Montezuma. For this purpose, he asked leave to pass through their country, on his march to the great capital.

Distrusting the intentions of the strangers, and fearing that, instead of a disinterested friend and ally, they should find in them only a new enemy, whom, once admitted, they could never expel from their dominions, and whose yoke might be even harder to bear than that which the Aztec monarch had in vain attempted to fasten upon them-the proposed alliance of the Spaniards was rejected, with such bold and ample demonstrations of hostility, as left no room for doubt, that any attempt to force a passage through their territories, would be fiercely and ably contested.

Never daunted by obstacles, though somewhat perplexed, the brave Cortez rushed forward, encountered the almost countless hosts of the Tlascalan army, and, after several severe and deadly contests, in which the skill and prowess of his handful of men, with their terrible horses and yet more terrible fire-arms, were nearly overpowered by the immense numbers, astonishing bravery, and comparative skill of the enemy, he succeeded in terrifying them into submission, and winning them to a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, against the tyrant Montezuma, the common enemy of all the nations of Anahuac. By these singular and unparalleled successes, the little band of Castilian adventurers found themselves fortified, in the heart of the country, in close alliance with two powerful tribes, who swelled their army to ten times its original number, besides supplying them liberally with all the provisions that were needed for themselves and horses.

Never was adventure so rashly undertaken, or so boldly pushed, as this singular expedition of the Spanish cavaliers. And never, probably, were there associated, in one little band, so many of the master spirits of chivalry, the true material of a conquering army. The compeers of Cortez, who submitted to his authority, and acted in perfect harmony with him, as if they were but subordinate parts of himself, were each competent to command a host, and lead it on to certain victory. The impetuous, daring Alvarado, the cool, courageous, trusty Sandoval, the high-spirited, chivalrous Olid, the rash, head-long, cruel Velasquez de Leon, and others, worthy to be the comrades of these, and of Cortez-when have the ranks of the war-god assigned so many master spirits to one enterprize? And the brave, the gifted, the indomitable Xicotencatl, the mountain chief of Tlascala, whom the Spaniards, with so much difficulty, first subdued and then won to their cause, as an ally-what a noble personification of the soul and spirit of heroism, realizing in personal bravery, martial skill and prowess, and in all the commanding qualities of person and of character, which go to constitute the victorious warrior, the best pictures of the type-heroes of epic poetry and history.

In all their previous discoveries in the New World, the progress of the Spaniards to victory was easy, and almost unresisted. The invaders of Mexico, however, found themselves suddenly introduced to a new people, and new scenes-to nations of warriors, to races intelligent, civilized, and competent to self-government and self-defence. And all the skill, courage, and energy of their ablest commanders, and their bravest men, would have availed them nothing in their herculean enterprize, if they had not craftily and skilfully worked upon the jealousies and differences existing between the various tribes and nations of Anahuac, and fomented the long smothered discontents, and unwritten complaints of an over-taxed and sternly-governed people, into open and clamorous resistance to the despotic sway of Montezuma. It is curious and melancholy to observe, how eagerly they shook off the golden yoke of their hereditary monarch, for the iron one of a new master, and exchanged their long-established servitude to their legitimate king and their pagan gods, for a more galling, hopeless, and wasting slavery to the cruel and rapacious invader, under the life-promising Sign of the Cross, the desecrated banner of the Prince of Peace.

[B] One version of this singular prophetic legend represented the expected invaders, as the descendants of the ancient god Quetzalcoatl, who, ages agone, had voluntarily abdicated the throne of Anahuac, and departed to a far country in the East, with a promise to his afflicted people, that his children would ultimately return, and claim their ancient country and crown.

* * *

The land was ours-this glorious land-

With all its wealth of woods and streams-

Our warriors, strong in heart and hand,

Our daughters, beautiful as dreams.

---

And then we heard the omens say,

That God had sent his angels forth

To sweep our ancient tribes away-

While these events were transpiring in the ever moving camp of the victorious invaders, the imperial court of Tenochtitlan was agitated and distracted by the divided counsels and wavering policy of the superstitious, fear-stricken monarch, and his various advisers. At one time, deeply offended by their audacious disregard of his positive prohibitions, and roused to a sense of his duty as a king, by the prophetic warning of Karee, which never ceased to ring in his ears, Montezuma was almost persuaded to give in to the war-party, and send out an army that should overwhelm the strangers at a blow. But, before this noble purpose had time to mature itself into action, all his superstitious fears would revive, and, without coming to any decision either to move or stand still, he would pause in timid inaction, till some new success had made the invaders more formidable than before, and invested their mission with something more of that preternatural sacredness, which alone had power to unman the monarch, and disarm his craving ambition. At each advance of the conquering Castilians, he realized the growing necessity of prompt and efficient measures of defence, while at the same time he felt a greater reluctance to contend with fate. The result was, that he only dallied with the foe, by continually sending new embassies, each, with larger and richer presents than the preceding, having no effect but to add fuel to their already burning thirst for gold, and strengthen their determination to accomplish their original purpose.

These royal embassies were less and less firm and peremptory in their terms, until they assumed the tone of expostulation, and assigning various and often conflicting reasons why the Spaniards should not pursue their route any farther towards the imperial city. At length, when the courier announced the arrival of the mysterious band at Tlascala, and the consummation of the alliance between them and his old and bitter enemies, together with the defection of many cities and districts, he felt it impossible to remain any longer undecided. His throne trembled under him. He must act, or it would fall, and involve him and his house in inevitable ruin. Instead, however, of a bold and masterly activity in the defence of his capital and crown, he changed his policy altogether, and sending a new embassy with more splendid gifts than ever, invited the strangers to his court, and promised them all the hospitalities of his empire. He designated the route they should pursue, and gave orders for their reception in all the towns and cities through which they should pass.

Montezuma was politic and wise in some things; and the purpose he had now in view, if it had not been frustrated, would have been deemed a master-stroke of policy, worthy of the ablest disciples of the Macchiavellian school. Perceiving the necessity of breaking up this combination of new and old enemies, he had recourse to stratagem to effect it, intending that the strangers, whom he dared not to oppose with direct violence, should fall into the snare they had laid for themselves, in thrusting themselves forward, in despite of his repeated remonstrances, into the heart of his empire. He feared to raise his own hand to destroy them, because they were, in his view, commissioned of heaven to overturn his throne; but he deemed it perfectly consistent with this reverence for the decrees of fate, to lay a snare into which they should fall, and so destroy themselves. He little understood the watchfulness and circumspection of the man he had to deal with, or the tremendous advantage which their armor of proof and their engines of destruction gave the Europeans over the almost naked Mexicans, with their primitive weapons of offence. It was his plan to separate the foreigners from their new Indian allies, and invite them to come alone to the capital, as was first proposed. And he designed to assign them accommodations in one of the ancient palaces, in the heart of the city, where, surrounded by high walls, on every side, they should be shut up from all intercourse with the people, and left to perish of famine.

When this purpose was formed, the monarch kept it a profound secret in his own breast. The ambassadors whom he sent to the Castilian camp, were of the highest ranks of the nobility, and were accompanied by a long train of slaves, bearing the rich presents, by which the wily monarch hoped at the same time to display his own royal munificence, and to propitiate the favor of the dreaded strangers. Every new display of this kind only served more effectually to defeat his own hopes; for the avarice of the Spaniards, whose lust of gold was absolutely insatiable, was so far from being satisfied with this profusion of royal gifts, that it was only the more inflamed with every new accession to their treasures. The only effect, therefore, of these repeated embassies was to confirm the Spaniards in their convictions of the conscious weakness of the Mexicans, and make them the more resolute in pushing forward to complete the subjugation of the whole country, and possess themselves of all its seemingly inexhaustible treasures of gold.

Montezuma had now another difficulty to contend with, in his endeavor to rid himself of the intruders. The Tlascalans represented him to Cortez as false and deceitful as he was ambitious and rapacious, and used every argument in their power to dissuade him from committing himself to his hands. But the bold adventurer, always confident in his own resources, seemed never to think of danger when an object was to be accomplished, or to regard any thing as impossible which he desired to attain. As soon as the door was thrown open to his amicable approach to the capital, he set himself to prepare for the march. The expostulations and suspicions of the Tlascalans made him, perhaps, more careful in his preparations against a surprise, and more rigorous in the discipline of his little corps, than he might otherwise have been. Wherever he was, his camp was as cautiously posted, as fully and rigidly guarded as if, on the eve of battle, he was hourly expecting an assault. This watchfulness was maintained throughout the whole adventurous campaign, as well when in the midst of friends and allies, as when surrounded by hostile legions.

After the royal ambassadors had departed with their pacific message, the mind of Montezuma was harassed and agitated with many doubts of the propriety of the course he had adopted. His nobles, and the tributary princes of the neighboring cities of Tezcuco, Tlacopan, and Iztapalapan, were divided in their opinions. Some complained, though not loudly, of the weak and vacillating policy of the king. Some, even of the common people, feared the consequences, anticipating the most disastrous results, in accordance with their superstitious veneration for the oracles of their faith. The third day after the departure of the envoys, the king was pacing up and down one of the beautifully shaded walks of the royal gardens, listening with a disturbed mind to the powerful expostulations of his brother, Cuitlahua, who, from the beginning, had vehemently opposed every concession to the invaders, and urgently solicited permission to lead the army against them, and drive them from the land. Suddenly, a voice as of a distant choir of chanters arrested his ear. The melody was solemn, sweet and soothing. It seemed to come sometimes from the upper regions of the air, in tones of silvery clearness and power, sometimes from beneath, in suppressed and muffled harmony, as when the swell organ soliloquises with all its valves closed,-sometimes it retreated, as if dying into an echo along the distant avenues of royal palms and aged cypresses, or the citron and orange groves that skirted the farther end of the garden, and then, suddenly, and with great power, it burst in the full tide of impassioned song, from every tree and bower in that vast paradise of terrestrial sweets. Enchanted by the more than Circean melody, the brothers paused in their animated discourse, and stood, for a few moments, in silent wonder and fixed attention. Presently the chanting ceased, and one solitary voice broke forth in plaintive but emphatic recitative as from the midst of the sparkling jet that played its ceaseless tune in the grand porphyritic basin near which they stood. The words, which were simple and oracular, struck deep into the heart of Montezuma, and found a ready response in that of his royal brother.

The lion[C] walks forth in his power and pride,

The terror and lord of the forest wide-

When the fox appears, shall he flee and hide?

---

The eagle's nest is strong and high,

Unquestioned monarch of the sky-

Should he quail before the falcon's eye?

---

The sun rides forth through the heavens afar,

Dispensing light from his flaming car-

Should he veil his glory, or turn him back,

When the meteor flashes athwart his track?

---

Shall the eagle invite the hawk to his nest?

Shall the fox with the lion sit down as a guest?

Shall the meteor look out from the noonday sky,

When the sun in his power is flaming by?

The pauses in this significant chant were followed by choral symphonies, expressing, as eloquently as inarticulate sounds could do, the most earnest remonstrance, the most moving expostulation. When this was concluded, the same sweet voice broke forth again, in tones of solemn tenderness and majestic power, in a prophetic warning to Montezuma.

Beware, mighty monarch! beware of the hour,

When the pale-faced intruder shall come to this bower!

Beware of the weakness that whispers of fear,

When the all-grasping, gold-seeking Spaniard is near!

Beware how thou readest the dark scroll of fate!

Its mystic revealings may warn thee too late,

That the power to command, and the strength to oppose,

Are gone, when thou openest the gate to thy foes.

The white men are mortal-frail sons of the earth,

They know not, they claim not, a heavenly birth;

They bow to disease, and they fall by the sword,

Pale fear can disarm them, grim death is their lord;

And those terrible coursers, so fiery and strong,

That bear them like ravenous tigers along,

The fleet winged arrow shall pierce them, and slay,

And leave them to eagles and vultures a prey.

Up, monarch! arouse thee-the hour is at hand

When the dark howling tempest shall sweep o'er thy land.

Thy doubts and thy fears, ever changing, are rife

With peril to liberty, honor and life;

And this timid inaction shall surely bring down

To the dust, in dishonor, thy glorious crown;

And leave, to all time, on thy once-honored head,

The curse of a nation forsaken, betrayed.

Oh! rouse thee, brave monarch! there's power in thy hand

To scatter the clouds that hang over thy land.

Speak, speak but the word, there is magic in thee,

Before which the ruthless invader shall flee,

And myriads of braves, all equipped for defence,

Shall leap at thy bidding, and banish him hence;

And the gods, who would frown on the recreant slave,

Will stand by their altars, and fight for the brave.

The effect of this mysterious warning upon the mind of Montezuma was exceedingly powerful, and seemed, for a time, to change his purpose and fix his resolution. With an energy and decision to which he had long been a stranger, he turned to his brother, and said, "Cuitlahua, you are right. This realm is mine. The gods have made me the father of this people. I must and will defend them. The strangers shall be driven back, or die. They shall never profane the temples and altars of Tenochtitlan, by entering within its gates, or looking upon its walls. Go, marshall your host, and prepare to meet them, before they advance a step further."

Exulting in this sudden demonstration of his ancient martial spirit in his royal brother, and fired with a double zeal in the cause he had so much at heart, by the thrilling influence upon his soul of the mysterious oracle, whose message had been uttered in his hearing, Cuitlahua scarcely waited for the ordinary courtesy of bidding farewell to the king, but flew with the speed of the wind, to execute the grateful trust committed to him. Despatching his messengers in every direction, only a few hours elapsed before his army was drawn up in the great square of the city; and, ere the sun had gone down, they had passed the gates, traversed the grand causeway that linked the amphibious city with the main land, and pitched their camp in a favorable position, several leagues on the way to Cholula.

The ardent imagination of the prince of Iztapalapan kindled at the prospect now opened before. The clouds, so long hanging over his beloved country, were dissipated as by magic, and the clear light of heaven streamed in upon his path, promising a quick and easy conquest, a glorious triumph, and a permanent peace. He had been in many battles, but had never been defeated. He believed the Mexican army invincible any where, but especially on their own soil, and fighting for their altars and their hearths. Terrible as the invading strangers had been hitherto, he had no fear of the coming encounter. He confidently expected to annihilate them at a blow. Happily his soldiers were all animated with the same spirit, and they took to their rest that night, eager for the morning to come, that should light them on their way to a certain and glorious victory.

No sooner had the army departed, than a change came over the spirit of the ill-fated Montezuma. The demons of doubt and fear returned to perplex and harass his soul, and to incline him again to that vacillating policy, those half way measures, by which his doom was to be sealed. In an agony of distrust and suspense, he recounted to himself the history of the past, reviewing all those dark and fearful prophecies, those oft-repeated and mysteriously significant omens, which, for so many years, had foreshadowed the events of the present day, and revealed the inevitable doom of the empire, sealed with the signet of heaven. The impressions produced by the recent warnings of Karee faded and disappeared before the deep and indelible traces of those ancient oracles, on which he had been accustomed from his youth sacredly to rely. He was once more adrift in a tempest of contending impulses, at one moment abandoning all in a paroxism of despair, at another, vainly flattering himself with the hope of deliverance in some ill-formed stratagem, but never nerving himself to a tone of resolute defiance, or venturing to rest a hope on the issue of an open encounter.

The result of all this agitation was, another abandonment of his noble purpose of defence, and a new resort to stratagem. But the plan of operations, and the scene of execution, were changed. Cholula was selected as the theatre of destruction. The Spaniards had already been invited to take that city in their route, and orders had been given, and preparations made, for their hospitable reception. It was now resolved to make their acceptance of that invitation the signal and seal of their destruction. They were to be drawn into the city, alone, under the pretence that the presence of their Tlascalan allies, who were the ancient and bitter enemies of the Cholulans, would be likely to create disturbance in the city, and lead to collision if not to bloodshed. The Cholulans were instructed to provide them with a place of encampment, in the heart of their city, where they could easily be surrounded, and cut to pieces. The streets of the city were then to be broken up by deep pits in some places, and barricades in others, to impede the movements of the horses, more dreaded than even the thunder and lightning of their riders. This being completed under cover of the night, the city was to be filled with soldiers ready to do the work of execution, while the brave Cuitlahua, with the flower of the army of Tenochtitlan, was to encamp at a convenient distance without the walls, to render prompt assistance, in case it should be needed.

This plan being fully arranged in the mind of the Emperor, messengers were despatched with the light of the morning, to arrest the movements of Cuitlahua, and convey the necessary orders to the governor of Cholula. The warlike chieftain was deeply chagrined, and bitterly disappointed, in finding his orders so suddenly countermanded. He saw only certain ruin in the ever-wavering policy of the king, and was unable to conceive of any hope, except in striking a bold and decisive blow. He was willing to stake all upon a single cast, and drive back the insolent invader, or perish in the attempt. But Montezuma was the absolute monarch. His word was law; and, though not irreversible like that of the Medo-Persian, it was never to be questioned by any of his subjects. The hero must therefore rest on his arms, and await the issue of a doubtful stratagem.

Meanwhile, the eager and self sufficient Castilians had pushed forward to Cholula, and entered its gates, under a royal escort, that came out to meet them, and amid the constrained shouts and half hearted congratulations of a countless multitude of natives, who with mingled fear, hatred and curiosity, gazed on the conquerors as a superior race of beings, and made way for them on every side, to take possession of their city. They were received with the greatest deference and consideration by the chiefs of the little republic, and the ambassadors of Montezuma, who had halted on their way, to prepare a more honorable reception for their guests, and further to ingratiate them with their master, by doing away, as far they could, the unfavorable impressions of him and his people, which might have made on their minds, by their intercourse with their old and implacable enemies of the republic of Tlascala.

Such was the mutual jealousy and hatred of these neighboring nations, that, while the Cholulans could, in no wise agree to admit the Tlascalans to accompany Cortez into their city, they, on their part, were extremely reluctant to allow him to go in alone, assuring him in the strongest terms, that they were the most treacherous and deceitful of men, and their promises and professions utterly unworthy of confidence. Scorning danger, however, and determined at all hazards, to embrace every opening that seemed to facilitate his approach to the Mexican capital, he marched fearlessly in, and took up his quarters in the great square, or market place. Here, ample accommodations were provided for him and his band. Every courtesy was extended to them by the citizens and their rulers. Their table was amply supplied with all the necessaries and luxuries of the place. They were regarded with a kind of superstitious awe by the multitude, as a race of beings belonging to another world, of ethereal mould, and supernatural powers; and their camp was visited by those of all ranks, and all ages, eager to catch a view of the terrible strangers.

A few days after their arrival, a new embassy from the imperial palace was announced. They held no communication with Cortez, but had a long consultation with the previous envoys still remaining there, and with the authorities of the city. From this time, there was a striking change in the aspect of the Cholulans towards their guests. They were soon made to perceive and feel that, though invited, they were not welcome guests. The daily supplies for their table were greatly diminished. They received but few and formal visits from the chiefs, and but cold attention from any of the nobles. Cortez was quick to perceive the change, but unable to divine its meaning. It caused him many an anxious hour, especially when he remembered the serious and urgent representations of his Tlascalan allies of the deceitful and treacherous character of the Cholulans. His apprehensions were by no means diminished, when he learned from the morning report of the night guards, that through the entire night, which had hitherto been a season of perfect silence and repose in the city, sounds were heard on every side, as of people earnestly engaged in some works of fortification, sometimes digging in the earth, sometimes laying up stones in heaps, and in various other ways, "vexing the dull ear of night with uncouth noise." It was found, on examination, that the streets in many places were barricaded, and holes, in others, were lightly covered with branches of trees. Unable to explain these matters, and not wishing to give offence to his entertainers by enquiring too curiously into what might be no more than the ordinary preparation for a national festival, he sent one of his chief officers to report to the Tlascalan commander, without the gates of the city, and enquire what might be the meaning of these singular movements. Having learned in reply, that a hostile attack was undoubtedly contemplated, and that a large force of Mexicans, under command of the brave Cuitlahua, brother of Montezuma, was encamped at no great distance, ready to co-operate with the Cholulans at a moment's warning, and that a great number of victims had been offered in sacrifice, to propitiate the favor of their gods, the haughty Spaniard found his position any thing but agreeable. He was a stranger to fear, but he was certainly most sadly perplexed. And, when, in addition to the information already received, he learned from Marina, his female interpreter, that she had been warned by a friend in the city to abandon the Spaniards, that she might not be involved in their ruin, he was, for a time, quite at a loss what to do. To retreat, would be to manifest fear, and a distrust of his own resources, which might be fatal to his future influence with the natives. To remain where he was-inactive, would be to stand still in the yawning crater of a volcano, when the overcharged cauldron below had already begun to belch forth sulphureous flames and smoke.

The character of the conqueror was one precisely adapted to such exigencies as this. Through the whole course of his wonderful career, he seems to have rushed into difficulty, for the mere pleasure of fighting his way out. In order to extricate himself, he never lost a moment in parleying or diplomacy. His measures were bold, decided, and direct, indicating a self-reliance, and a confidence in his men and means, which is the surest guaranty of success. In this case, having satisfied himself of the actual existence of a conspiracy, he sent for the chief rulers, upbraided them with their want of hospitality, informed them that he should leave the place at break of day the next morning, and demanded a large number of men, to assist in removing his baggage. Promising to comply with this demand, which favored the execution of their own designs, the chiefs departed, and Cortez and his band, sleeping on their arms, prepared for the coming conflict.

Punctually, at the peep of dawn, the princes of Cholula marched into the court, accompanied by a much larger number of men than Cortez had required. With a calm bold air, the haughty Castilian confronted them, charging them with treachery, and detailing all the circumstances of the concerted massacre. He upbraided them with their duplicity and baseness, and gave them to understand that they should pay dear for their false-hearted and cruel designs against those, who, confiding in their hospitality and promises of friendship, had come to their city, and slept quietly within their gates.

Thunderstruck at this unexpected turn of affairs, and fearing more than ever the strange beings, who could read their very thoughts, and fathom the designs which were yet scarcely matured in their own bosoms, the disconcerted magnates tremblingly pleaded guilty to the charge, and attempted to excuse themselves, by urging their allegiance to Montezuma, and the duty and necessity of obeying his commands, however repugnant to their own feelings.

It was not the policy of Cortez to admit this plea, in extenuation of their treachery. He preferred to cast the whole burden upon them alone, and leave the way open for an easy disclaimer on the part of the emperor, hoping thereby the more readily to gain a peaceable entry into the capital. Without waiting, therefore, for any further explanations, or instituting any inquiry into the comparative guilt of the parties, he gave the signal to his soldiers, who, with a general discharge of their artillery and fire arms, rushed upon the unprepared multitude, mowing them down like grass, and trampling them under the hoofs of their horses. A general massacre ensued. Not one of the chiefs escaped, and only so many of their panic-struck followers, as could feign themselves dead, or bury themselves, till the tempest was past, under the heaps of their slain comrades.

Thus taken by surprise, and driven, before they were ready, into an unequal conflict with enemies who had, by some miracle, as they supposed, anticipated their movements, and struck the first blow, the Cholulans rushed in from all parts of their city, hoping to retrieve, by their numbers and prowess, the disadvantage of the lost onset. Cortez had prepared for this. He had ordered his artillery to be stationed at the main entrances to the square, where they poured in a raking fire upon the assailants, rushing in from all the avenues. The surprise being so sudden, and the leaders having been shot down at the first charge, confusion and consternation prevailed among the discomfited Cholulans, who alternately fled, like affrighted sheep, from the scene of slaughter, and then rushed back, like exasperated wolves, to the work of death.

In anticipation of this conflict, the Spanish general had concerted a signal with his Tlascalan allies, without the gates, who now came rushing in, like hungry tigers, revelling in the opportunity to inflict a terrible vengeance upon their ancient enemies. Falling upon their rear, as they crowded in from the remoter quarters of the city towards the field of carnage, they drove them in upon the weapons of the Spaniards, from which there was now no escape. Turning upon this new enemy, they fought with desperate bravery, to win a retreat. But they were cut down on this side and that, till the streets were scarcely passable for the heaps of the dead and dying that cumbered them. Those who took refuge in their houses and temples, found no safety in such retreats, for they were instantly fired by the Tlascalans, and their defenders perished miserably in the flames.

There was one scene in the midst of this desolating conflict, that was truly sublime,-one of those strange combinations of moral and physical grandeur, which sometimes occur in the dark annals of human warfare, investing with a kind of hallowed interest, which the lapse of ages serves only to soften, but never destroys, those spectacles of savage but heroic cruelty, where every death is elevated into a martyrdom, and the very ground saturated with human blood becomes a consecrated field, clothed with laurels of never-fading green. It was the last act in that bloody drama, enacted on the lofty summit of the great Teocalli, the principal temple of Cholula, and the centre of attraction to all the votaries of the Aztec religion, throughout the wide realms of Anahuac. Driven from street to street, and from quarter to quarter, and falling back, as a forlorn hope, upon the sanctuary, and the support and encouragement of the hoary men, who presided over the mysteries of their faith, they made a bold and desperate stand, in defence of all that was dear and holy in their homes and their altars. Step by step, they contested this hallowed ground, till they reached the upper terrace, where the great temple stood. This was an area of four hundred feet square, at an elevation of two hundred feet from the level of the surrounding streets. On this elevated platform, the furious combatants fought hand to hand; the priest, in his sacred garments, mingling in the savage conflict with the humblest of his followers-the steel-clad Castilian, the Tlascalan and the Cholulan, of every rank and grade, each eager only to slay his man, grappled in the mortal conflict, till one or the other fell in the death struggle, or tumbled over the side of the mound, to be dashed in pieces below. As the half-armed, half-naked natives melted away before the heavy and destructive weapons of the invulnerable Spaniards, they were repeatedly offered quarter, but scorned to accept it. One only submitted, when, pierced with countless wounds, he could stand no longer. All the rest, to a man, fought desperately till he fell, and many, even then, in the agonies of the last struggle, seized their antagonists by the legs, and rolled with them over the parapet, to the certain death of both.

At length the conflict ceased for want of a victim, and the conquering Castilian, with a few of his Tlascalan allies, stood alone, in undisputed possession of this lofty vantage ground. The disheartened Cholulans, without leaders, without counsellors, seeing their sacred temple in the hands of their enemies, felt that all was lost. Not another blow was struck, but every where they bowed in submission to the irresistible conqueror.

The thunder of the artillery, and the smoke of the burning buildings, rising in a heavy column to the skies, announced to the Mexican army the conflict that was raging within the city. But, having orders not to engage in the fray, unless notified by the Cholulan chiefs that his assistance was necessary, the brave Cuitlahua was compelled to wait the summons. Burning to vindicate the honor of the Mexican arms, the hero chafed under this cruel restraint, like a tiger chained in full view of his prey. He little doubted that the Castilians would fall by the hands of the Cholulans, encompassed as they were on every side, with no room for escape, or for the action of their horses. But he longed to have a share in the victory. Drawing up his forces in the order of march, he stood, the whole day, in readiness to move at a moment's warning; and in this attitude, he was still standing, when the tidings of the terrible disaster in the city reached him.

His veteran legions were with difficulty restrained from rushing to the rescue. The army was almost in a state of mutiny, from their eagerness to avenge their slaughtered brethren in Cholula; and all the military authority, and unbounded influence of Cuitlahua were required to keep them in a state of due subordination.

The influence and authority of Cortez, on the other hand, were scarcely sufficient to restrain his victorious allies from ravaging the city, and putting men, women, and children to an indiscriminate slaughter. So bitter and pervading was the old national animosity, that life was scarcely worth possessing to a Tlascalan, if he must share its daily blessings side by side with the Aztec. He hated the whole nation with a perfect implacable hatred. He execrated the very name, and never uttered it without a curse. Of this universal malediction, the Cholulan was honored with more than his appropriate share. The other subjects and tributaries of Montezuma they feared as well as hated. The Cholulans they affected also to despise, though their contempt was not so thorough as to mitigate in the least their fierce and uncontrollable hatred.

[C] As Americus Vespucius, in his letter to Lorenzo Di Pier-Francesco De Medici, reports having met with the lion in South America, I have taken the liberty to introduce him as a native in our forests, notwithstanding the prevalent opinion of naturalists to the contrary.

* * *