Calavar; or, The Knight of The Conquest, A Romance of Mexico

by Robert Montgomery Bird

"Fight ye, my dogs! and slay your own sheep! Be firm; wall yourselves with spears; and presently ye shall be lookers-on.—Sweep the square again, brave cavaliers! Goad flanks! couch spears! and, this time, let me see the red face of my lieutenant!"

Turning, and shouting with a louder cheer, (for the experience of the two first charges had warned the Mexicans of their destructive efficacy, and they now recoiled with a more visible alarm,) the cavaliers again rushed through their foes like a whirlwind; and brushing them aside, as the meteor brushes the fogs of evening, they dashed onwards, until their shouts were loudly re-echoed, and they found themselves confronted with Don Gonzalo and his party.

The greetings of the friends were brief and few, for the same myriads, attacking with the same frenzied desperation, invested them with a danger that did not seem to diminish.

"Bring thy foot in front," cried Cortes, "and, while they follow me, charge thou behind them. Be quick, and be brave. March fast, ye idle spearmen: and stare not, for these are not devils, but men!—God and Spain!—Santiago, and at them again, peerless cavaliers!—We fight for Christ and immortal honour!"

The valiant band of cavaliers again turned at the voice of their leader, and again they swept the corse-encumbered square, rushing to the relief of their own infantry. Following the counsel he had given to Sandoval, the wary general passed by his foot-soldiers, and bidding them march boldly forwards, and join themselves with the infantry of Don Gonzalo, he charged the infidels from their rear with a fury they could not resist; and then rushing backwards with equal resolution, discovered the foot-soldiers in the position in which it had been his aim to place them. The united infantry, full seven hundred men in number, were now protected, both in front and rear, by a band of cavalry; their flanks looking, on one side, to the temple, and, on the other, to a great street that opened opposite. Arranging them, at a word, in two lines, standing back to back, and seconding himself the manœuvre which he dictated to Sandoval, the general swept instantly to that flank which bordered on the Wall of Serpents, while Gonzalo rode to the other. Thus arranged, the little army presented the figure of a hollow square, or rather of a narrow parallelogram, the chief sides of which, were made by double rows of spearmen, and the smaller by bands of horsemen. Thus arranged, too, the Christians fought with greater resolution and success; for, parting at once from a common centre, the infantry drove the assailants from before them on two sides, while the cavalry carried death and horror to the others; until, at a given signal, all again fell back to their position, and presented a wall altogether inexpugnable to the weak though untiring savages.

It was the persuasion of Don Hernan, that, in this advantageous position, he could, in a short time, so punish his enemies, as to teach them the folly of contending with Christian men, and perhaps end the war in a day. But, for a full hour, he repeated his charges, now pinning his foes against the wall, or the steps of the House of Skulls, now falling back to breathe; and, at each charge, adding to the number of the dead, until their corses literally obstructed his path, and left it nearly impassable. At every charge, too, his cavaliers waxed more weary, and struck more faintly, while the horses obeyed the spur and voice with diminishing vigour; and it seemed that they must soon be left unable, from sheer fatigue, to continue the work of slaughter. The pagans perished in crowds at each charge, and at each volley of bow-shots; but neither their spirit, nor their numbers, seemed to decrease. Their yells were as loud, their countenances as bold, their assaults as violent as at first; and the Spaniards beheld the sun rising high in the heavens, without any termination to their labours, or their sufferings. Twenty Christians already lay dead on the square, or had been dragged, perhaps, while yet breathing, to be sacrificed on the pyramid. This was a suspicion that shocked the souls of many; for, twice or thrice, they heard, among the crowds, who still stood on the lofty terrace, shooting arrows down on the square, such shouts of triumphant delight as, they thought, could be caused by nothing but the immolation of a victim.

Grief and rage lay heavily on the heart of Cortes; but though the apprehension, that, if much longer over-worn by combat, his followers might be left unable even to fly, added its sting to the others, shame deterred him, for a time, from giving the mortifying order. Harassed, and even wounded, (for a defective link in his mail had yielded to an arrow-head, and the stone was buried in his shoulder,) he nevertheless preserved a good countenance; cheered his people with the assurance of victory; fought on, exposing himself like the meanest of his soldiers; and several times, at the imminent risk of his life, rescued certain foot-soldiers from the consequences of their foolhardiness.

There was among the infantry, a man of great courage and strength, by the name of Lezcano, whose only weapon was a huge two-handed sword, the valiant use of which had gained him among his companions, the title of Dos Manos, or Two-Hands. No spearman of his company advanced to the charge with more readiness than did this fellow with his gigantic weapon, and none retreated with more constant reluctance. Indeed, he commonly fell back so leisurely as to draw three or four foes upon him at once; and it seemed to be his pleasure, to meet these in such a way, as should call for the praises of his companions. His daring, that day, would have left him with the additional name of the bravest of the brave, had it been tempered with a little discretion. But inflamed by the encomiums of his comrades, and not less by the complimentary rebukes of his captain, his rashness knew no bounds; and twice or thrice he thrust himself into situations of peril, from which he was rescued with great difficulty. He had been saved once by Don Hernan. It was his fate, a second time, to draw the notice of the general; who, falling back on the infantry, beheld him beset by a dozen foes, surrounded, and using his great scimitar furiously, yet, as it seemed, in vain; for he was unhelmed.

"What ho, Don Amador!" cried Cortes to the cavalier, who was at his side, "let us rescue Dos Manos, the mad!"

In an instant of time, the two hidalgos had reached the group, and raised their voices in encouragement, while each struck down a savage. At that moment, and while Lezcano elevated his scimitar, to ward off the blow of a maquahuitl, the massive blade, shivered as if by a thunderbolt, fell to the earth; but, before it reached it, the sharp glass of the Indian sword had entered his brain. The cavaliers struck fast and hard, on either hand; the barbarians fled; but, Lezcano, the Two-handed, lay rolling his eyes to heaven, his head cloven to the mouth.