The battle.
The moment the Spaniards appeared, the Tlascalans, uttering hideous yells, and filling the air with all the inconceivable clamor of their military bands, rushed upon them like the on-rolling surges of the ocean. The first discharge from the native army of stones, arrows, and darts was so tremendous as to darken the sky like a thick cloud. Notwithstanding the armor worn by the Spaniards was impervious to arrow or javelin, many were wounded.
Courage of the enemy.
But soon the cannon was unmasked, and opened its terrific roar. Ball and grape-shot swept through the dense ranks of the natives, mowing down, in hideous mutilation, whole platoons at a discharge. The courage displayed by the Tlascalans was amazing. It has never been surpassed. Though hardly able, with their feeble weapons, to injure their adversaries, regardless of death, they filled up the gaps which the cannon opened in their ranks, and all the day long continued the unequal fight.
The natives vanquished.
Immense multitudes of the dead now covered the field, and many of the chiefs were slain. Every horse was wounded; seventy Spaniards were severely injured; one was dead, and nearly all were more or less bruised. But the artillery and the musketry were still plied with awful carnage. The commander-in-chief of the native army, finding it in vain to contend against these new and apparently unearthly weapons, at last ordered a retreat. The natives retired in as highly disciplined array as would have been displayed by French or Austrian troops. The victors, exhausted and bleeding, were glad to throw themselves upon the gory grass of the battle-field for repose. The cold wind at night, from the mountain glaciers, swept the bleak plain, and the soldiers shivered in their houseless beds. They did not sleep, however, until, in a body, they had returned thanks to the God of peace and love for their glorious victory. "It truly seemed," said Cortez, devoutly, "that God fought on our side."
Surprise at the small losses of the Spaniards.
Courage of the Spaniards accounted for.
It appears almost incredible that, in such a conflict, the Spanish army should have received so little injury. But Cortez made no account of any amount of loss on the part of his native allies. The Spaniards only he thought of, and they were protected with the utmost care. Their artillery and musketry kept the natives at a distance, and their helmets and coats of mail no native weapon could easily penetrate. Their danger was consequently so small that we can not give them credit for quite so much heroism as they have claimed. The enterprise, in its commencement, was bold in the extreme; but it is easy to be fearless when experience proves that there is but little peril to be encountered. They fought one hundred thousand men for a whole day, and lost one man!
The midnight foray.
As night enveloped in its folds the bloodstained hosts, the untiring Cortez, having buried his dead, that his loss might not be perceived by the enemy, sallied forth with the horse and a hundred foot, and four hundred of the native allies, and with fire and sword devastated six villages of a hundred houses each, taking four hundred prisoners, including men and women. Before daybreak he returned from this wild foray to the camp.