Sketches of Aboriginal Life / American Tableaux, No. 1

by V. V. Vide

Grief follows grief. The crowned head So late the nation’s hope, is laid Low in the dust.

———

Defeat and triumph, tears and smiles, Life, death, true glory and the depths of shame, The funeral pall and the pure bridal robe, In close proximity—

The sacred dust restored to its native earth, and the last hallowed rites performed over the sepulchre of the departed, the thoughts of the people were immediately turned to the succession. All eyes were fixed on Cuitlahua, the noble brother of Montezuma, whose intrepid spirit, and deadly hatred of the intruding Spaniards, accorded with the now universal sentiment of the nation. He was elected, without a dissenting voice, by the grand council of the nobles. Accepting, with alacrity, the post of responsibility and danger, he was immediately inaugurated and crowned, with all the gorgeous rites, and imposing ceremonies which a pagan priesthood delight to throw around every important event, in which their holy influence is necessarily involved.

During the progress of these mournful and exciting events, the rigors of the siege had not been materially relaxed, though all active hostilities had been suspended. They were now to be renewed with tenfold energy, under the lead of their warlike monarch, who had often led the armies of Anahuac to victory, and who had never known defeat.

When the Castilian general was informed that the heroic Cuitlahua had been placed on the throne of Montezuma, and was about to take the field in person, he perceived the necessity of adopting prompt and decided measures. The retreat had already been resolved on. It was now to be put in execution, and that, without delay. As it was the custom of the Aztec, to suspend all hostilities during the night, Cortez determined to avail himself of that season to make his escape. Accordingly, every thing being made ready for the departure, and the city being hushed in a seemingly profound repose, the gates were thrown open, and the little army, with its long train of Indian allies, sallied stealthily forth, not to the stirring notes of drum or trumpet, but with hushed breath and a cautious tread, ill accordant with the haughty bearing, and vaunting air, with which they had hitherto attempted to lord it over the proud metropolis of Anahuac.

But, though quiet, the sagacious and determined Aztec was wide awake. He had anticipated this stealthy movement of his pent up foe, and resolved that he should not thus escape the snare into which his own audacious insolence had drawn him. The last files of the retreating army had not yet passed out from their entrenchments, when a long loud blast from the horn of the great Teocalli, stirred the city to its utmost borders, calling out the mighty host, who had slept upon their arms, eager for the summons which should bring them once more to an engagement with their foe.

Confident as the Spaniard was in the overwhelming power of his cavalry and artillery, he preferred rather to make good his retreat, while he could, than to show his prowess in these perilous circumstances. The hoarse distant murmurs which fell upon their ears at every street as they passed, indicated too plainly the mustering of a mighty host, which soon came rushing in upon them from all quarters, like the swelling surges of a stormy sea, each higher and more terrible than that which preceded. They fell upon the flying foe with the ferocity of tigers, about to be disappointed of their prey. From every lane and alley, and from the roof of every house, they pelted them with ceaseless vollies of stones. They grappled with them, man to man, reckless of life or limb, so that they could maim or destroy an enemy.

Alvarado, with a portion of the cavalry, brought up the rear of the retreating army, in order to repel, with an occasional charge upon the enemy’s ranks, those furious onsets which might have overwhelmed the small body of Spanish infantry, or the unmailed and lightly armed Tlascalan allies. The cavalier and his horse, encased in armor of proof, could better cope with the weapons and missiles of their assailants, while they often turned upon them, with a fierce and irresistible charge, trampling hundreds in the dust, and mowing down whole ranks on this side and that, with their trenchant broadswords.

In this manner the fugitives defiled through the great southern avenue, and came out upon the grand causeway, by which they had twice entered the city. Here they were met by new and fresh squadrons of the enemy, thronging the sides of the dike in their light canoes, and showering down arrows thick as hail upon the advancing column. Sometimes keeping upon the causeway, they would grapple each with his man, and drag him off into the water, to be picked up by those in the canoes, and hurried off to a terrible and certain fate, on the great altar of their War-god. Their numbers increased every moment, till the lake was literally alive with them.

At length the advancing column was brought to stand; while a cry of despair from the van revealed the fearful position in which they stood in the midst of their implacable foes. The bridges which intersected the dike had been removed by order of the Emperor. They had now reached the first opening thus made in the causeway. A sudden shout from the myriads of Aztec warriors that hung about them on all sides, told at once their own wild triumph, and the awfully perilous position of their enemy. Crowded together on a narrow causeway, in ranks so close as to render their arms and their weapons almost entirely useless—arrested in front by a wide chasm which it was impossible to pass—their retreat cut off in the rear, by the living masses that blocked up every avenue, and pressed them forward upon the crowded ranks of their comrades—assailed on both sides from the water, through the whole length of the closely compacted column—while all these dangers were enhanced a hundred-fold by the darkness of the night—there seemed no possibility of escape for one of that brave host.

Cortez was with the principal part of the cavalry in the centre of the column, so wedged in by the compacted mass of his own forces, as to be quite unable either to advance or retreat, without trampling them under his feet, or crowding them off the causeway. He comprehended in a moment the perilous position he was in. But such was the utter confusion and dismay of the whole army, and such the horrid din of clashing arms, and the yet more horrid yells of the savage foe, that he in vain attempted either to direct or encourage his men. His voice was drowned in the uproar.