Sketches of Aboriginal Life / American Tableaux, No. 1

by V. V. Vide

These sorties were several times repeated, but always with the same doubtful success. The loss of the Spaniards was always much less than that of their enemy. But the latter could better afford to lose a thousand, than the former to lose one. Their ranks were instantly replenished with fresh combatants, who crowded in upon the scene of conflict, like the countless thousands of the over-peopled North, that swarmed upon the fair fields of Italy, as if some used-up world had been suddenly emptied of its inhabitants. Their numbers seemed rather to increase than to diminish with every new onset. In the same proportion their fierce resolution increased.

The haughty Spaniard was now convinced that he had wholly mistaken the character of the people, whom he had thought to trample down at his pleasure. A spirit was raised which could not be laid, either by persuasion or by force. He saw and felt his danger, without the power to avert it. At length, either by threats or entreaties, or both, he prevailed on the captive Montezuma once more to interpose in his behalf, by employing what authority remained to him against his own best friends and faithful subjects.

The Aztecs, forsaken of their monarch, had bold and talented leaders, who were competent both to devise and to execute the measures deemed necessary for the public good, and to lead on their marshalled hosts, to battle and to victory. Cacama, the young Prince of Tezcuco, burning to retrieve his fatal error in counselling and aiding the friendly reception of the Spaniards, now joined all his resources with those of Cuitlahua and Guatimozin, in endeavoring to recover the ground they had lost. Their first object was, to rescue the Emperor from his inglorious imprisonment, never doubting that, with his sacred person at their head, they would be able to annihilate the treacherous intruders at a blow.

Not far from the city of Tezcuco, and standing out on the bosom of the lake, several hundred yards from the shore, was a solitary castle of a heavy and sombre architecture, built upon piles, at such an elevation as to be above the influence of any extraordinary swell in the waters of the lake. Consequently, when at its ordinary level, boats could pass freely under. At this place the princes were accustomed to meet for private deliberation.

Cortez was informed of these meetings, and knew too well the effect of the counsels there matured, not to wish them broken up. With a boldness of design peculiar to himself, he resolved to make Montezuma the instrument of their destruction. He represented to that monarch the danger to his own interests, of allowing such a junto of able and ambitious men to assume the guidance of the public affairs, and undertake to direct the movements of the people. “What can they do more,” he craftily exclaimed, “but assume the reins of government, under the specious pretence, which they now falsely set up, that their king is deprived of his freedom to act, and therefore no longer a king. If, now, you would save your sceptre and your crown, assert at once your imperial prerogative—show them you have still the power to speak and to act—command them, on pain of your royal displeasure, to lay down their arms, desist from their treasonable assemblages, and repair at once to your court, to answer for their unloyal designs.”

Misled by false representations of the facts, and deceived by the specious arguments of the Spaniard, Montezuma despatched a message to the lord of Tezcuco, under the great seal of the empire, which it was high treason to disregard, commanding him instantly to appear before his master, to answer for his irregular and ill-advised proceedings. Cacama was too well aware of the real position of Montezuma, and of the constraint under which he acted, to give any heed to his mandate.

“Tell my royal master,” he replied, “that I am too much his friend to obey him in this instance. Let him banish the false-hearted Spaniards from his capital, the vipers whom he has taken to his bosom—let him ascend once more his imperial throne, not as a vassal, but as the rightful lord of all these realms, and Cacama will joyfully lay his crown, his life, his all, at his feet. Montezuma is my master when he is master of himself. To that dignity we intend to restore him, or perish in the attempt.”

On the evening of the fourth day after the return of the royal messenger, with this spirited reply of Cacama, a light pirogue, guided by a single hand, its sole occupant, might have been seen gliding silently over the Lake to the water-palace, the chosen rendezvous of the patriot princes. By the proud and majestic bearing of the boatman, it could be no other than Guatimozin. Securing his skiff by a cord passed through the fingers of a gigantic hand, curiously carved from the jutting rafters on which the floor of the palace was laid, he ascended the steps to the hall, which he found unoccupied and still. He was presently joined by Cuitlahua and Cacama, arriving from different directions, in the same stealthy manner. Their number was soon increased by the arrival of four Tezcucan lords, from whom some important communications were expected. Scarcely had they entered the hall, and seated themselves, when, a slight noise from without attracting his attention, Guatimozin rose, and went towards the door, to ascertain the cause.

“It is only the chafing of our pirogues against the piles,” said one of the new comers—“let us proceed to business.”

Guatimozin, true to his own impulses, heeded not the remark. Stepping upon the outer battlement, he discerned a slight figure in a canoe, moving in the shadow of the building, and apparently seeking concealment. Supposing it might be a servant, left by the Tezcucans in charge of their boats, he was about returning, when a gentle voice whispered his name.