By Right of Conquest; Or, With Cortez in Mexico by G. A. Henty (color ebook reader TXT) 📗

Juan and Pedro had also been on guard, during the massacre. This was a great satisfaction to him, for he felt he could no longer have remained in intimate communion with them, had their hands been drenched with innocent blood. When, upon their being relieved at their posts, they joined each other in the chamber they shared in common, the old soldier held up his hand and said gruffly:

"Do you hold your tongue, Sancho. I know what you are thinking, lad, as well as if you said it; and maybe I do not disagree with you; but least said, soonest mended. These rooms without doors are not places for a man to relieve his mind by strong language, if he happens to differ from his superiors. It is a bad business, and a shameful one. At Cholula there was some excuse for it. Here there is none. I am an old soldier, and have taken many a life in my time, but never in cold blood like this. Say nothing, lad, at any rate until you get a chance of being outside this city; or on the lake, where none can get near you--then pour it out, as much as you like."

"It is like enough," Roger said, "that none of us will ever go out of the city alive; and it will serve us thoroughly right. If this is to be a Spaniard and a Catholic, let me be a Mexican and a heathen."

"There, there, that is enough," Juan interrupted. "Now let us have our supper."

"I can eat nothing," Roger said, throwing himself down on the couch, where he remained in silence until a sudden outburst of wild shouts and cries, followed instantly by the trumpet, calling every man to his allotted place on the walls, aroused him.

"The work of vengeance has begun," he said gravely, as he put on his thick padded jerkin and helmet, and took up his pike. "I only hope I may see Alvarado, the author of this massacre, killed before I am."

Juan shook his head as Roger left the room, and he followed with Pedro.

"In faith, I do not blame him. He has been brought up among these people."

"He is quite right," the young soldier said. "It is a shameful business. Had I known that we were coming here to be butchers, I would never have taken service under Cortez. What should we have said if, on our first arrival here, when Montezuma entertained Cortez and all the cavaliers, his people had slain them at the feast?"

"Hold your tongue, you young fool!" Juan muttered angrily. "The thing is done, and you cannot undo it. What we have to do now is to fight for our lives. Even if these poor devils have right on their side, it is not a matter to stop and discuss, now. So keep your breath for fighting. I doubt not that we shall soon scatter them like chaff."

But this was by no means the case, and it was only the intervention of Montezuma that saved the garrison from destruction.

The time until the arrival of Cortez had passed slowly. The soldiers, weakened by hunger and thirst, muttered angrily against the officer who had so rashly brought them into this strait. Few of them regretted the deed for its own sake, but simply because it had brought on them peril and misfortune.

Roger had borne his share of the fighting on the walls. He was defending his life, and although at first he had fought with little ardor, the pain given by two arrows which pierced his cotton armor heated his blood; and he afterwards fought as stoutly as the rest.

During the period of inaction he had, more than once, tried to obtain an interview with Cacama; but the prisoners were jealously watched, and no one was allowed access to them on any pretext, and two officers always accompanied the men who took in their daily rations. They were regarded as hostages, only less important than Montezuma himself; and as most of them were very rich and powerful caziques, they might offer bribes which might well shake the fidelity of any private soldier.

When the news arrived that Cortez, with the whole of the army of Narvaez, was at hand, the depression that had reigned gave way to exultation; and the soldiers believed that they would now take the offensive, and without loss of time put an end to the insurrection.

Marina had accompanied Cortez on his expedition, for she was still necessary to him as an interpreter, and her influence with the natives was great. Roger obtained an interview with her, a few hours after her return. She had evidently been crying passionately.

"My heart is broken, Roger," she said. "I had hoped that the white men would have done great things for my country. They know so much, and although I thought there might be trouble at first, for great changes can never be introduced without trouble, I never dreamed of anything like this. Cholula was bad enough, but there the people brought it on themselves; and the Spaniards would have been slain, had they not first begun to kill. But here it is altogether different. It was an unprovoked massacre, and after this, who can hope that the whites and Mexicans can ever be friendly together?

"I love Cortez. He is great and generous, and had he been here this would have never happened; but many of his people are cruel, and they are all greedy of wealth; and he, general though he is, has to give way to them.

"I remember that, in the old days at Tabasco, you told me how cruelly the Spaniards had treated the people of the islands; but when I saw them first, I thought that you, being of a different nation, had spoken too hardly of them. I see, now, that you were right. I have, all along, done what I could for my people; and though I am with the invaders, I am sure they recognize this, and that they feel no ill will against me. But now I fear that they will curse me, as they will curse them; and that, through all time, my name will be abhorred in Mexico," and she again burst into tears.

"I do not think so, Malinche. At Tezcuco it was always said that you stood between the natives and the whites, and it was owing to you that they were not more harsh than they were.

"As to this massacre, God forbid that I should say a single word in defense of it! As a white man and a Christian, I feel it is an act of horrible atrocity; but it should not make such an impression upon your people, who make wars solely to obtain victims, whom they may sacrifice at the altars of their gods; and who, every year, slay in cold blood fully twenty-five thousand people who have done them no wrong. By the side of such horrible slaughter as this, the murder of six hundred, the other day, was but a drop in the ocean of blood annually shed here."

"Had it been in battle, it would have been nothing," Malinche said. "Had they offered them up at the altars of the gods, the people would have understood it, for they do it themselves; but this was a foul act of treachery. Who, after this, can believe in the promises of the whites?

"I know the people. You whites despise them, because they have hitherto allowed themselves to be subdued without resistance; but now that their first awe of the Spaniards has died away, and they have nerved themselves to take up arms, you will find that they are brave. I see nothing but trouble before us. Cortez feels confident that he can easily repulse any attack, and subdue the city and the country round; but I do not think so."

"Nor do I, Malinche. No men could have fought more bravely than the Mexicans, the other day. It is true that we were but in small numbers, and that we are now many times stronger, and have Cortez to command us; but on the other hand, the attack was but a hasty one, and the next time we shall have the whole Mexican force upon us."

"What will you do, Roger?"

"I must fight for the Spaniards," Roger said gloomily. "They are not my countrymen, but they are white men as I am, and surrounded by foes. Besides, I have no option. The Mexicans cannot distinguish between Spaniards and Englishmen, and I should be seized and sacrificed, were I to set foot beyond the walls. Were it not for that I would leave the city, join Amenche, and leave the Spaniards and Mexicans to fight out their quarrel as they might; but now, whichever won, the result would be fatal to me. If the Mexicans were victorious, I, like all other whites, would be sacrificed to their gods. If the Spaniards won, I should be executed as a traitor. Therefore, there is nothing for me to do but to remain with the Spaniards, and share their fate, whatever it may be."

The next morning silence reigned over the city. Not a Mexican was to be seen anywhere near the palace, within which the Spaniards were virtually prisoners. Cortez hoped, however, that Cuitlahua would soon persuade the people to return to their usual habits, and to open the markets for provisions; but in any case, he felt so confident of his power to overawe the city, that he sent off a messenger with dispatches to the coast, saying that he had arrived safely, and should soon overcome all opposition.

In half an hour, however, the messenger returned at a gallop, wounded in a score of places. He reported that the city was up in arms, the drawbridges were raised, and the Mexicans were marching towards the palace. Scarcely had he arrived, when the sentinels on the towers shouted that masses of men were approaching, by all the streets leading to the palace; and immediately afterwards the terraces and flat roofs of the houses near were darkened by throngs of natives, shouting and brandishing their weapons.

The trumpet instantly sounded to arms, and so strict was the discipline that prevailed that, in an incredibly short time, every soldier was at his post. The position was capable of being defended against a very numerous enemy, unprovided with artillery; for the wall round the great one-storied building, though low, was strong; and the turrets, placed at intervals upon it, enabled the defenders to command its face, and to pour missiles upon any who might be bold enough to endeavor to effect a breach, by undermining it with crowbars and levers. The garrison, too, were sufficient for its defense; for there were not only some twelve hundred Spaniards, but the eight thousand Tlascalan allies.

The Aztecs rushed forward, with the shrill whistle used as a battle cry by the people of Anahuac; and, as they advanced, poured a rain of missiles of all kinds upon the palace, to which were added those shot from the terraces and flat roofs.

The Spaniards had pierced the walls with embrasures for their cannon, and these commanded all the avenues. The gunners waited until the columns were close at hand, and then their terrible discharge swept lanes through the crowded masses in the streets. For a moment the Mexicans paused, paralyzed by the terrible slaughter; and then, rallying, rushed forward again. Three times the cannon were discharged into their midst; but though broken and disordered, they still pressed on until they swept up to the very foot of the walls, pouring in a hail of arrows.

They were well seconded by those on the housetops who, from their elevated position, were on a level with the Spaniards; and whose missiles, arrows, javelins, and stones thrown with great force from slings, galled the defenders greatly, and wounded great numbers of them.

In vain did the Aztecs strive to climb the walls. These were of no great height but, as they showed their heads above the parapet, they were shot down by the Spanish arquebus men, or struck backwards by the weapons of the Tlascalans. Failing to scale the walls, they tried to batter down the parapet with heavy pieces of timber. But the stonework was too strong, and they then shot burning arrows into the palace, and hurled blazing torches over the wall.

The palace itself was of stone, but some of the exterior works which had been constructed were of wood, and these were soon on fire. The defenders had no water with which to extinguish the flames and, at the point where the new works joined the wall, the fire was so fierce that they were afraid it would spread to the palace; and, to extinguish it, were forced to adopt the desperate expedient of overthrowing the wall upon the burning mass. The breach thus made was guarded by a battery of heavy guns